Saffron Goes Ballistic

THE temperature in Ahmedabad has touched new highs. It's erupted in the form of a saffron-supported 'swadeshi movement' and has amassed a wreck-record of these proportions: On May 20, delivery trucks—one of Coke and the other of Pepsi—were looted and set alight, allegedly by VHP volunteers. Then on May 22, a dampened Pepsi had to pull out of the Rain Dance, an event co-sponsored by Four Square in Ahmedabad. A day later, the fizz flickered out of the star-shows of Alisha Chinai and Usha Uthup, as the two rival cola sponsors beat a hasty retreat. On May 24, another Pepsi truck was burnt in the city, while in the wee hours of May 27, it was the turn of a Baskin Robb-ins ice-cream parlour to feel the heat.

It finally acquired religious hues. On May 28, a Christian-managed educational establishment was taught a stern lesson: miscreants, allegedly from the VHP, ran amuck breaking windows and a portrait of Mother Mary. "Sometime in April, mass was disrupted by the VHP in the nearby St Anthony's Church and Bibles were burnt," claims Matthew Kutty, secretary, St Mary's Charitable Trust. The ransacking, he said, was once again the handiwork of the saffron brigade.

 The build-up had begun even before nuclear blasts and the retaliatory international sanctions reared their heads. Hindutva's henchmen—who had gone berserk two years ago, and again recently, over M.F. Husain's depiction of Hindu goddesses—also surfaced late last year with a warning to eminent artist Bhupen Khakar. "Do not mention Husain's name," they waggled at the opening of Khakar's exhibition.

Unfortunately, this time the raging anti-US fever and its accompanying "indigenous infection" has spread to the rest of the state too. Like wild fire, literally. Rajkot and Surat witnessed a bonfire of Calvin Klein and Levi products and perfumes. VHP's city unit presidents of Baroda and Surat joined the cola war by announcing in no uncertain terms that they would "teach the MNCs a lesson on account of US trade sanctions on India". Meanwhile, the VHP, Bajrang Dal and Durgavahini units of Saurashtra went ballistic and passed a diktat prohibiting the Mr and Miss Saurashtra beauty contest.

The ugly side of swadeshi was showing. And putting up appearances for it, was none other than the state's BJP government. Says a defensive Haren Pandya, state home minister: "This is not the clarion call of one particular organisation but the in-built feelings that one should try and understand. In a democracy, one can express one's own feelings, even aggressively, provided the forum is right. But there's no support for this kind of violence."

 Mere words, as the actions of the miscreants scream through the charred remains of the Baskin Robbins outlet. "I have suffered a loss of Rs 26 lakh," fumes proprietor Baldev Desai. "I am a BJP supporter. If this can happen to me, it can happen to anyone else." It has. The city's elite, vibrant C.G. Road now wears a sullen look. Shops that flaunted foreign brands earlier now seem hunted. Says a spokesperson from the Nike showroom, a stone's throw away from the creamed parlour: "We have not received any threats so far but there is a fear psychosis. Glow signs have been dimmed, hoardings have been painted over." With only the colour of saffron peeking through.

ALREADY incensed over the government's bid to rename the city Karnavati, the posturing over swadeshi is now brewing discontent among Amdavadis. While the Congress and the RJP have been making political hay as the swadeshi sun shines, the citizens of Ahmedabad are in turbulence. Says renowned danseuse Mrinalini Sarabhai: "During the fight for freedom, burning British goods symbolised the beginning of a movement. But this is a display of anger." Equally stirred by the saffron brigade's swadeshi stance, SEWA (self-employed women's association) founder Ila Bhatt agrees: "Intolerance under any name is unacceptable. This kind of nationalism is destructive. One respects the idea of swadeshi, but it should start from one's lifestyle. That is the purest form of non-violence."

In a curious turn of events, the VHP, while still going strong on the swadeshi spiel, is going easy on the support. Condemning "any kind of violence in a cultured, civilised society" Dr Pravin Togadia, VHP chief, offers a placatory line: "Right now we have no programme to tackle MNCs. When it is done, it will be done in a democratic method—that is, through public education."

 Meanwhile, the Pepsi Dance Connection has been temporarily short-circuited. Despatches from Whirlpool dealers have apparently ground to a halt. A spokesperson from the cola industry ventured that the police were indulging in blind-men's bluff. "When the CM is condoning the action, what can they do?" Stocks of the "real thing" and the "voice of a new generation" are down to whimpers as even rave eat-outs like Mirch Masala have stripped obvious displays of the quenchers. "The total foreign investment in the state—from proposal level to implementation—is Rs 1,33,000 crore. Swadeshi means putting the interests of the nation first. It does not mean shutting the others out." For the moment, two words have become synonymous with Ahmedabad. Saffron and Swadeshi. As for the Nike-sporting chief minister Keshubhai, he is increasingly being referred to as the S-minister!