The Bhopal Movement as a school
Eurig Scandrett concludes our series on 25 years of the Bhopal gas survivors’ movement with a reflection on how poor and ignorant people learnt everyday forms of resilience in the face of oppression and how that resilience evolved into resistance and political protest
For 25 years, survivors of the Bhopal gas disaster have been campaigning for justice. This people’s movement is remarkable, not just because of the tenacity with which it has taken up issues as diverse as compensation, employment, rations, pension, healthcare, water contamination and environmental remediation. It is also significant that the movement largely comprises poor women with minimal education who have addressed complex issues of chemical engineering, environmental pollution, legal argument and medical science -- both allopathic and ayurvedic.
The Bhopal Survivors’ Movement Study has been documenting this struggle through interviews with survivor-activists and their supporters in the movement. One of the motivations for the research, and interest in the emerging findings, is the way in which people with little formal education have learned through engaging in struggle. As a group of survivors participating in a recent workshop agreed, the movement is their school, and this has important implications for those of us involved in the professional practice of education and lifelong learning.
In 1984, when the gas disaster happened, literacy was low. The 1981 census records a literacy level of 34% for Madhya Pradesh, with female literacy at 19%. Even amongst those women who had attended school, social conservatism restricted their level of education. Bhopal was a rapidly expanding city with high levels of migration from rural areas of MP and beyond, and the Union Carbide factory was situated in the poorer north of the city. The overall picture of the population affected by the gas disaster was poor, casually employed and with very low levels of formal education.
Many of the survivor activists tell of their ignorance at the time of the disaster. Rehana Begum, an early activist with the trade union Bhopal Gas Peedit Mahila Udyog Sangathan, who had completed school before the disaster, echoes many of the views expressed by survivors with differing levels of education:
“We had no idea about the concept of a union or about the concept of a state or what the chief minister was … We were mostly homely Muslim women who had no experience of negotiating or campaigning and frankly did not have a clue about anything.”
The story of how many women with little or no formal education were able to learn how to take on the state and multinational corporations is impressive. The cognitive dimension of social movement activism has been recognised by social scientists for decades, but seldom has this been explored amongst a movement of analytically astute yet poorly educated and largely illiterate actors.
The first and perhaps most basic learning in the context of struggle was what James C Scott has called the “weapons of the weak”, the everyday forms of resilience in the face of oppression. Rabiya Bee describes how she learned and then taught her co-workers how to benefit from the corrupt working practices in the Swalamban dressmaking centres established for economic rehabilitation.
“The whole system at the centre was corrupt. People at the top made money everywhere, they got commissions at every level. There was chaos when tenders for goods were opened; people would find ways to get commission on the smallest things like buttons. So I devised a strategy for the women to make some extra money as well – I taught them techniques to save cloth scrap in a way that they could use it to make some extra money. There were a lot of scams: big spools of cloth for centres would be stolen in transit. When everybody at the top was making money why couldn’t we make some money? When the manager interfered I threatened him because everyone in the system was making money and he had no right to stop us, it was our right.”
But everyday resilience was clearly inadequate to the level of exploitation experienced. In the following extract, Rabiya Bee describes how resilience developed into resistance.
“When I started working I did not know what a chief minister was. I was poor, looking for a job ... I was 28 years old at that time and I had five daughters. We did not know what a union could do or what it was. When Nirmala Buch (the owner of the sewing centres) began exploiting us it would make me very angry but I somehow continued to work despite the exploitation because I had a small baby to feed. Soon I raised objections and then they pointed me out to the other women who did not object to this just to isolate me. So I began talking to these women to motivate them to join me. The women slowly began to get my point and we spoke about this more regularly at lunch/break time.
“Then ideas to make this group stronger were proposed in order to build pressure on Nirmala. A proposal to stop the cutting for a day was presented in one of the conversations and it was accepted because that way the centre would come to a standstill and work to all 300 women would stop. When women began to raise questions, the supervisor of the shed brought this to the notice of Nirmala Buch. She complained that I had organised all the ladies in the cutting unit.
“A senior woman from the group had a husband who was working in [public service] and he supported my views. Then we began getting ideas; the first one was to go to the chief minister but we had no idea how to approach him, we had no petition, no banner, nothing. We still went ahead with the plans, we reached the CM’s residence and met the security guards who did not permit us to enter the premises. We insisted, so he asked what we were there for and he explained the whole concept of a CM to us. He also explained to us the concept of the union and advised us to form a union.
“We took all this information back and chose the leadership… [and went] to Indore for registration.”
The skills and tactics of political protest were learned from common sense, trial and error, friendly advice, the guidance of trusted sympathisers and a good bit of critical intelligence. Often key individuals are named as the source of learning – not professional teachers but individuals within the struggle who have functioned as teachers.
Mohini Devi again describes the early days of the Bhopal Gas Peedit Mahila Udyog Sangathan.
“The second time they tried to close us down, Abdul Jabbar also came into the group and helped give us direction. He taught us a lot about the importance of struggle and the fight for justice. The women decided to conduct open meetings so that everyone could gather and talk about the issues that affected us
Abdul Jabbar Khan became leader of the Bhopal Gas Peedit Mahila Udyog Sangathan. He describes how he drew on his own learning experience to assist union members in their own learning.
“These were women who were not politically aware. At one time I did not have that kind of political awareness either, I was a mohalla (neighbourhood committee) volunteer in Zehreeli Gas Kand Morcha and I became the general secretary of Rajendra Nagar committee, in charge of improving conditions in that area. My political awareness came from experience, so I have always tried to raise political awareness amongst members in the Sangathan so that larger issues can also be understood and addressed.”
Learning the tactics of the immediate struggle is an important part of the educational process, but Mohini Devi also goes on to describe how the immediate becomes connected to wider learning:
“To start with it was just workplace issues, and then other things started coming up. For instance, the lack of healthcare came up because people were missing work due to visits to the hospital and we recognised that you need to be healthy to do anything else. With time we understood things better and then people like Jabbar and other educated people joined in who could guide us better and give us suggestions…
“Issues picked up by the women were never restricted to workplace issues, they were open to the problems that people face overall. For every problem, if you look at it on a larger level, there is a problem that relates all other humans not just the ones suffering in that place and time. This is why our solidarity went out to other campaigns also and likewise got the same back from them…”
The issue of solidarity with other struggles as both an outcome of an educational process and a means of learning more about the world comes up regularly. Hamida Bee, who was married at 11 and a mother at 14 had very little formal education but through her activism in Bhopal Gas Peedit Mahila Udyog Sangathan made the connections with critical areas of knowledge. She emphasises “We used to raise all sorts of issues at our meetings concerning women’s rights, like dowry, abuse etc. We have also supported movements like Narmada Bachao Andolan (NBA), and Shankar Guha Niyogi’s Bhilai movement has received support from BGPMUS. We also supported the fishermen’s rights movement in Bhopal. We worked with the NBA and even went to jail with them.”
For some groups learning in the movement extends to contact with international movements. Rasheeda Bee, a leader of Bhopal Gas Peedit Mahila Stationary Karmchari Sangh, explains the impact of her contact with international groups such as Greenpeace, and the key educational role of Satinath Sarangi (Sathyu), an educated outsider who has committed himself to the struggle. Rasheeda Bee tells the story:
“There were many people who were falling sick beside the Union Carbide walls and all around it. Why were they falling sick? Most of the women who I knew were from these areas where people were facing new problems. I met up with Sathyu and he told me about the contamination of the water. And after the reports in 1999 it was found that the water was indeed toxic. After hearing about the contaminated water, and from what I had learned over the years, I started to realise that this is about saving the world. I also came to know about the law that says the polluter must pay, which strengthened us all the more because we now knew that we had the law on our side. We found out about lots of things that were happening throughout the world from working with Sathyu.”
In our interview with Rasheeda Bee she goes on to describe the connection with International Campaign for Justice in Bhopal (ICJB) leading to visits to Japan to meet the victims of mercury poisoning from the Minamata pollution incident, and her interventions in the 2002 World Summit on Sustainable Development in Johannesburg, critiquing the presence of multinational corporations at the summit and the incorporation of their interests into sustainable development.
Abdul Jabbar Khan argues that the transition from ignorance to education and from narrow focus to wider understanding is a gradual one.
“[When] the union took up medical care, compensation, environmental concerns etc initially the members were unhappy with these new issues and used to question why we were focusing on them, but their ideas changed. Now they also raise wider issues such as women’s rights or Narmada Bachao Andolan or communal issues.”
The process of learning through struggle leading to a wider engagement in interconnected issues is not inevitable however. Some activists describe how their increasingly critical understanding led to the opposing view, that a greater focus on bread-and-butter issues is necessary. Rehana Begum explains:
“The main mistakes [were] to move away from our core demands of employment… Employment is fundamental and the union should have concentrated on this alone. I have seen extreme poverty and I know how much difference employment can make to a person’s life. Without employment a person cannot have access to medical care, food, housing, clothes, it is an important issue. So rather than campaigning for healthcare or environment, we should just focus on employment.”
The debates within the movement on tactics and strategy are therefore increasingly based on more sophisticated understandings of wider issues, even if they do not lead to greater agreement.
Informal education is not narrow. It applies not only to the struggle and what is best for it, but also to other issues dear to the hearts of survivors. Our interviews reveal some interesting debates about religion in which both Hindus and Muslims are seeking to reinterpret religious practice in a way that is true to their faith whilst rejecting its oppressive elements. For example, Rabiya Bee describes the process critiquing the burkha:
“I joined the organisation in the burkha because my husband was a maulvi (a Muslim priest) and I was from a very orthodox family. I gave it up because in our society women in burkhas are looked down upon, they are considered stupid, illiterate and without manners. When we went to government offices wearing our burkhas officers would treat us very rudely and a woman in a sari would be treated with respect. It is not communal, it is social conditioning which I cannot explain or blame on anyone in particular. It is a sort of discrimination against Muslims… The burkha got a bad name because people did bad things in the burkha. I have personally observed the difference before and after I gave up the burkha.”
Hajra Bee from ICJB explains the thinking behind this renegotiation of religious practice:
“A burkha’s aim is purdah. For a woman who wears a burkha, the burkha is a purdah. The meaning of a burkha is to put a veil over the face and the veil should not be removed in the presence of unknown men… There are all kinds of purdahs and in this world there are different situations which women are in, which sometimes lead to difficulty. Many women are working, like stitching, embroidery, manual labour or doing dishes or working as house help, so a lot of women wear the burkha while doing this work. She leaves the house in a burkha and she removes it at the place of work, finishes her work and wears the burkha when she returns home.
“I feel that it is best if a woman does not wear a burkha because if she is standing up for her rights or if she is looking after her family or if she is looking after her children then wearing a burkha is not necessary for her. When she can come out to earn then there is no question of a burkha. I do not believe in that kind of a burkha. A burkha and a purdah is good only when a woman is dependent on her husband and is within the four walls of her house. That is when I see sense in a purdah. If not, a lot of women go without a burkha.
“But if your mind and heart are strong then that is the biggest purdah. If a woman thinks she is capable of doing something and she is striving then nobody can even touch her.
“Take me, for instance. I used to wear a burkha but after the gas disaster in Bhopal what kind of purdah was there? We were all too concerned about saving our lives. Where do we flee? Where will we find ourselves safe? At that time we hadn’t a clue where we were going, where our children were, where we were. At that time we were suffocating, the whole body was on fire. We were all busy saving our lives, then where did the burkha go?
“It was such a horrible and dangerous night that no woman could be in the burkha or the purdah. There was no Hindu or Muslim, everyone was running. When we are unveiled already, then there is no question of wearing a burkha.”
Abdul Jabbar also describes the learning process of this practice. “The main reason for the communal divide was the ignorance among people. Nobody told the Muslim women to give up burkha directly but they gradually became aware and they understood the importance of the ideas. When they realised the importance of fighting and the burkha was a hindrance, they had to give it up eventually. It was a natural process. They travelled to other cities which exposed them to different ideas which eventually led to a lot of awareness about a lot of issues.”
The ways in which activists gain informal education through engagement with political struggle is an important lesson for those of us with professional responsibilities in formal education. There are opportunities for traditional intellectuals to engage with social movements in order to bring academic knowledge and training to support their struggle. Mohini Devi describes how intellectuals were drawn on in support of legal disputes about the numbers of people affected by the gas:
“We conducted surveys to prove our case and then filed a petition with the Supreme Court. We took some water and plant samples and tested them for contamination at labs in and outside Bhopal. Some scientists and doctors were also part of the organisation initially and they helped us with this and also gave reports to support the case.”
However, Rabiya Bee cautions, “I learnt that an illiterate person becomes a bigger threat than an educated person. The educated think that they can use their intellect to fool someone but if that person gets an ego about it then he will be brought down by a small person… People who they claim to work for can do without them, they do not need their help nor they do insist on getting help from social activists. People can survive with what they have. People who are not assisted by social activists also survive and people who know how to fight for their rights will do so without any assistance.”
For Abdul Jabbar, learning from those with formal education carries a great risk.
“For the first 10 years of the movement it seemed like a good idea to involve intellectuals just as they were active in the NBA. Now such people think very lowly of the Bhopal Gas movement, they think it’s a nuisance. They never have it in them to struggle. I feel that they could not connect to the problems of the common man because their experience was all book-based…
“During the British rule most of the intellectuals were in important positions in the system and they were the main hindrance to the freedom movement. It has been the same with the French revolution and the Russian revolution. The intellectuals are always with the rulers. So I would say that the uneducated people who do not possess ‘literary’ knowledge are the ones who can bring justice, much more than the educated.
“I learned this important thing from my guru Shankar Guha Niyogi (the assassinated leader of the Bhilai union movement in Chhattisgarh). I strongly believe that all the major problems of the world have been created by the educated class.”
Eurig Scandrette is lecturer in sociology at the Queen Margaret University, Edinburgh, Scotland, UK.
This article is an edited extract from the forthcoming book Bhopal Survivors Speak: Emergent Voices from a People’s Movement. Bhopal Survivors’ Movement Study 2009. Word Power Books: Edinburgh.
The Bhopal Survivors’ Movement Study comprises Eurig Scandrett, Suroopa Mukherjee, Dharmesh Shah, Tarunima Sen and many named and unnamed survivor activists who have contributed.
Infochange News & Features, November 2009



