Faizabad saw a brazen attack on Muslims on 24 October. From what led to this carnage, it is clear that it was not spontaneous but orchestrated

The communal eruption on 24 October in Faizabad, Uttar Pradesh, needs no detectives. The perpetrators did not care to maintain their anonymity. In fact, they appeared anxious that their objective would be defeated if it was not clear to their intended audience who had stirred it up. For such violence to have an impact beyond the district borders, the rioters seem to think, every stone pelted, every fire-bomb hurled and every act of mob vandalism must bear a signature that is legible to people across the Hindu-Muslim divide, even if the state’s law-and-order apparatus feigns ignorance of it.

The violence in question broke out during the course of a Hindu procession carrying idols of Goddess Durga for immersion in the River Saryu. The violence was undertaken by a ‘flash mob’ of rioters who had mingled with the crowd before they got into the act. As if still unsure whether they had left enough imprints, the rioters broke open the locks of a mosque at Chowk, the heart of Faizabad’s business area, and left it thoroughly ransacked. Built in 1780 by Nawab Hassan Raza Khan of Awadh, the mosque has long been a symbol of communal harmony in the town—every year, Hindu women would go up the stairs of the mosque and shower flower petals on Durga processions passing by it. “This year, though, no Hindu woman came into the mosque to welcome the procession,” says Dr Mirza Shahab Shah, who looks after the mosque, “It was unprecedented, and raises the suspicion whether the attack was planned in advance… those who did it also saw to it that the mosque was vacant so that it could be vandalised without interruption.”

The local administration and much of the media lost little time in calling the outrage yet another example of mutual hostility between Hindus and Muslims, a supposedly regular feature of life in UP. This, however, is not the truth. What happened at Faizabad’s Chowk in the hours between roughly 5.30 and 10.30 pm on 24 October—as the state machinery looked the other way while mobs looted, ransacked and burnt shops owned by Muslims and then vandalised the 18th century mosque—was not a ‘Hindu-Muslim riot’. It was a calculated and cold-blooded attack on minorities by those who have a political stake in such violence, who see something to gain in setting the two communities against each other.

Locals at large seem to have seen through it. The restraint displayed by most residents of the town was notable; the mobs did not swell, and participation was restricted to the bunch that began it. This is more than can be said of the administration and some sections of the media. The very next day, Subhash Chandra, Inspector General of Police, Lucknow Range, had this to tell mediapersons in the state capital: “The exact reason behind the violence is not yet known and efforts are on to identify those who incited the mobs on both sides.” This two-side theory was echoed by statements of other officials as well, and newspapers went along for the ride. Local news channels chose to ignore the event (why they did so is unclear).

Suppressed was the fact of how the violence began. It had nothing to do with a communal divide. A few louts in the procession are said to have molested a girl, who, like hundreds of other devout Hindus lining the roadside, was watching it go past. The policemen on duty stood aloof, as the incident resulted in angry words being exchanged by two groups in apparent confrontation. Soon, the two groups—both Hindu—were seen pelting stones at each other. “Then suddenly some people in the procession started shouting, asking all vehicles to stop because [they said] Muslims had thrown some stones and one of them had fallen on the idol,” says Nirmal Kumar, a local who was part of the procession.

The procession came to a halt, people started running helter-skelter, and in the commotion that ensued a mob began torching Muslim shops. It was done with military precision and went on for hours. The police did not intervene beyond a token effort to maintain order; of the seven left injured that day, by police claims, two were policemen. No lives were reported lost, but then, a death toll is no measure of such an event’s significance.

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