Frogmen At The Gate

• Nov 26, 2008: Armed terrorists attack several spots in Mumbai frequented by foreigners. 101 died
• Jul 11, 2006: 7 blasts at 7 locations in local trains across the city. 209 killed
• Aug 25, 2003: Two blasts at Gateway of India and Jhaveri Bazaar. 52 died
• Jul 29, 2003: Blast aboard a bus in Ghatkopar. 4 died
• Mar 13, 2003: Blast on a train pulling in at Mulund Railway Station. 12 dead
• Dec 2, 2002: Explosion on a bus in Ghatkopar. 2 killed
• Mar 12, 1993: 13 blasts across the city. Death toll 257

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Terror first called on Cafe Leopold, though in some tellings it was the Chhatrapati Shivaji Terminus. But it unfolded in 10 other sites—two of them iconic five-star hotels—continuing well into the next day and beyond. "It is a very dastardly attack," Maharashtra DGP A.N. Roy declared. That was an understatement. At last count, the attacks had left 126 people—98 civilians, 14 policemen and 14 foreigners—dead and 327 injured. The city's 18 million citizens struggled to make sense of the madness erupting all around them even as the world watched the horror transmitted in all its gruesome detail on their television screens.

This attack reminded many of the serial blasts of March 1993. Mumbai has been on the terror radar ever since, be it the Jhaveri Bazaar-BSE-Gateway of India blasts in August 2003 or the suburban train blasts of July 2006. But never had a terror attack been so concerted, so well-executed or synchronised to such macabre perfection. This was no tiffin box or scooter bomb attack. Instead, the terrorists unleashed a deadly cocktail of indiscriminate gunfire, grenade explosions and hostage-taking. By all evidence, they came in via the sea, in a Gujarat-registered vessel that had been hijacked mid-sea, and reached the Gateway of India in inflatable rubber dinghies.

The commando-style execution bespoke a global rather than a local hand (see Marks on the Water). As Ajit Doval, former IB director, put it, "Terrorism has taken a quantum leap in India with this attack. It is definitely an attack meant to weaken us, and has been conducted by a strategic adversary, not a local group." South Asia strategists too joined Mumbai police chief Hasan Gaffoor and dgp Roy in suggesting the attack had to be the handiwork of an international terror group.

Indication of this being a possibly anti-Semitic, anti-US terror group also came from developments at Nariman House in downtown Colaba on Wednesday night itself. Most residents or tenants of this old building in a narrow bylane are Jews, whom the terrorists held hostage. Even at the Taj and the Trident, terrorists asked for those with British, American or Israeli passports. Sources, in fact, said many of the hostages at the Trident were Israelis, though this is not confirmed.

The theatre of the latest strikes was the plush south Mumbai, within a five-kilometre radius of the Gateway of India. This is where the well-heeled tourist, the jetsetting corporate and the top business executive come out to unwind, whether at its many elite dining houses or at its pulsating pubs. This is where Mumbaikars whet their appetite for street food and tourists gather to soak in the sights and sounds of India on the Colaba Causeway. This is Mumbai's Heritage Mile, the area where the state police are headquartered. On Black Wednesday, this slice of Mumbai changed forever. Never again will Cafe Leopold be spoken of without an accompanying footnote on its tryst with terror.

Standing on the steps of the Taj late on November 27 evening, a distraught Ratan Tata, chairman of Indian Hotels, could only bemoan the loss—of his guests, brave staffers, and property, indeed a symbol of Mumbai itself. That all-too-familiar red-and-white dome of the Taj Mahal Hotel stood enveloped in flames, smoke and fire raging out of its windows as commandos flushed out the handful of terrorists who had wreaked havoc inside. Nearly 400 scared people were evacuated by that evening. Though no one was giving out figures of the numbers killed at the hotel, there were reports that the wife and three children of one of the managers had died in the attack.

At the northern end of south Mumbai, terrorists attacked another enduring symbol of Mumbai: CST. Hundreds of late-night commuters, on their way home after a hard day's work, stood stunned as two armed terrorists stormed it and freely opened fire. Firing over, the terrorists coolly walked across to their next target with only a closed circuit TV camera recording their movement. "I haven't seen such a sight at VT all my life," remarked a badly-shaken Ram Narayan, an odds-and-ends hawker who has sold his wares from the edge of this terminal building for nearly two decades. Scared to the bone, he still helped transfer the injured to hospital. By Thursday evening, scores of bodies lay unclaimed, some unrecognised in the hospital morgue.

So massive and audacious were these attacks that it wasn't just the Mumbaikar who was taken aback. The strikes proved to be beyond the pale of the Mumbai Police; even Maharashtra's elite, well-trained Anti-Terror Squad found itself out of depth. It was evident in their response to the strike at Trident, located in the central business district of Nariman Point. For close to 20 hours, no one was clear on how many terrorists had stormed into the hotel, or how many hundreds of guests and staffers were held hostage. Here, as at the Taj, eyewitnesses say the terrorists opened fire at will, then spread to different areas of the multi-storey hotel complex, eventually lodging themselves on the 19th floor.

The Mumbai police, ATS teams and Rapid Action Force men attempted an initial foray into the complex; it did not work. By the early hours of Thursday,NSG teams had flown in from Delhi, and were joined by army and navy personnel to flush out terrorists and rescue guests and staff trapped inside. The operation was still under way late on Thursday evening, with the terrorists holding hostages inside.

Then, the force lost its chief, joint commissioner Hemant Karkare, and several men including trained marksman Vijay Salaskar. Karkare, just back from a briefing at the state headquarters, reached the area between CST and Cama & Albless Hospital which too had been stormed by terrorists who were threatening to blow up the women's and children hospital. Karkare made a quick assessment of the situation, donned a makeshift bullet-proof jacket and helmet, grabbed his revolver and drove towards the entrance of the hospital. He was accompanied by Salaskar, who had just a helmet for protection. They had got out of the police jeep and were standing with additional commissioner of police Ashok Kamte to work out the best strategy when all three senior cops were shot dead. The terrorists had used the cover of dark to fire upon them, fling the police jeep driver out, hijack the vehicle, put on its siren, and drive down the main road near Metro Cinema opening fire at random on people still on the street.

A hot pursuit of the jeep and a chase down Marine Drive ended in the two terrorists being shot dead. Meanwhile, Karkare, Salaskar and Kamte were declared brought dead. "We have lost 14 officers and men, many of them badly injured. It's a big blow indeed," said Roy.

Retired officers like M.N. Singh, who was joint commissioner during the March '93 blasts, say the force is sorely lacking in both technical and financial armoury. The new matrix of terror demands a revised approach, say government and police sources. Ratan Tata pointed out that similar despair prevailed in the aftermath of the '93 blasts, but the intervening 15 years and regular terror strikes have not resulted in a competent crisis mechanism that can instil confidence in Mumbaikars. In fact, they saw their fear quotient only rise. Schools and colleges remained shut on Thursday, government and private offices recorded low attendance though road and rail commuter systems worked like clockwork, flights into and out of Mumbai were cancelled or rescheduled, plush hotels were asked not to take fresh bookings, the Bombay Stock Exchange and nifty suspended trading, and malls and shopping areas were empty.

Of course, Mumbaikars will resume their routine and the city will return to its rhythm in a few days. The indefatigable 'Mumbai spirit' would have won one more round of applause. Many, however, say it is this very spirit that enables state and central authorities to mumble inanities after an attack and return to their stupor thereafter. Points out Julio Ribeiro, former police commissioner and Punjab dgp: "We thought the '93 blasts were the worst, then we thought the 2002-'03 series were really bad, then we thought the July train blasts were the worst, now we think November 2008 attack is the worst. We lull ourselves into a false assurance. We pretend another attack will not happen. We demand nothing concrete from our authorities."

As Thursday evening wore on, franticSMSes passed around asking people to light a candle outside their window at 9 pm, as a subliminal message to the terrorists that Mumbai hadn't accepted defeat. Some did, many didn't. Candles make an important statement, but they don't prevent terror attacks.