The Red Sari: A Novel

by Javier Moro

  But in view of the constant provocation, Swami Gokulananda is forced to come out in Sonia’s defence: “She is just as Indian as anyone else,” he declares. “She leads a disciplined life and I see nothing wrong in her foreign origins.” In Gujarat, the state in which Narendra Modi, her fierce adversary, is head of government, a wave of attacks ends the life of several Christian missionaries, accused by the Hindus of encouraging conversions. “Don’t let them provoke you,” her advisors tell Sonia, “they want you to come out in defence of the Christians, but don’t fall for it, don’t do it.” She listens to them and decides to remain silent, but then the criticisms change direction. “Why is she distancing herself from Catholicism?” her adversaries ask treacherously. “Why does she have a complex about her own religion?” Sonia realizes that her religion and her Italian origin are permanent stigma, whatever she does. Obsessed with hiding it as much as possible, tired of the Hindu campaign on her faith, on January 22nd, 2001, she decides to make a symbolic gesture of great religious significance. During the Khumba Mela, the great Hindu religious celebration that takes place every twelve years and gathers together tens of millions of people at the confluence of the Ganges, the Yamuna and the mythical Saraswati in the outskirts of the city of Allahabad, the city of the Nehrus where they went to scatter Rajiv’s ashes, Sonia decides to take a ritual bath. She goes into the water fully dressed, standing, and makes an offering of flower petals to the sound of the mantras and the wailing of conch shells blown by the pandits on the riverbank. With her are some great Hindu holy men, and also representatives of other religions, such as the Dalai Lama. The sandy esplanade between the rivers is full of people as far as the eye can see. It is a crowd as impressive as is the order and total absence of disturbances or violent incidents. Sonia’s security service is so strict that the police do not allow anyone closer than two hundred metres from the bank where she is.

  In the following days, the photo of her making the puja to the gods is published in newspapers and leaflets, and is seen by millions of peasants in hundreds of thousands of villages. Sonia hopes to neutralize her adversaries’ criticisms of her in this way. But anyway, she is convinced that the people attach not the slightest importance to the fact that she was born in Italy. Besides, she asks herself… What does being Indian mean? Between an inhabitant of the Himalayas and another from the south, the differences are huge: they do not even speak the same language or eat the same food, and neither do they worship the same gods. They do not even have the same colour of skin. However, they both share the same pride in being Indian. Tolerance is an essential part of the culture of the sub-continent, otherwise… how could that mixture of peoples, traditions, ethnic groups, races and castes that is called India have survived for so many centuries? In a place that has always been able to assimilate diversity, the notion of foreign has no meaning. Her advisors provide her with arguments to defend herself. They remind her that when India won independence, an Englishman was the first head of state: his name was Lord Mountbatten, and he was the last Viceroy of the Empire. The party leaders remember that in 1983, Sonia drew up a will expressing her desire that her body be cremated according to Hindu rites. At the time, it was not probable that Rajiv Gandhi would end up as Prime Minister, and even less that Sonia would take on a political role one day. She did it because she believed in it.

  Actually, and Sonia knows this, if a person feels Indian, they are Indian. And she says it all the time: “I’m Indian. When I came into this family I became a daughter of my husband’s land, a daughter of India…” She is convinced that the people can see her love of India. When she is asked where she gets her moral principles from when she has to take a decision about the family or politics, she does not want to lie and she responds candidly: “I suppose from the Catholic values that are still there, at the back of my mind,” and she adds, “I am an ardent defender of India continuing to be a secular state. By secular state, I am referring to one that has room for all religions. The present government is not working in that direction.” The ferocity of the campaign against Sonia finds an unexpected echo in Orbassano. An Indian immigrant, a Sikh engineer who works for Fiat, has been elected as municipal councillor for the small Piedmontese district. “If a Sikh can join in the political life of an Italian city… how is it that an Italian cannot join in the political life of India?” asks a Congress Party MP. The BJP reply is furious: “Would they allow that Sikh to end up as Prime Minister of Italy?” asks a nationalist MP. “Of course not!” To support his case he quotes the Mayor of Orbassano, who declared to the Press: “I wonder if we in Italy would accept a foreigner, and a woman to boot, as leader of a party that has symbolized the struggle for independence against foreign domination and which still enjoys great popular support, although less than before. The fact that a number of Indians trust their destiny to Sonia’s hands says a lot about tolerance in India.” In this debate which transcends continents, an Italian journalist comes to his own conclusion: “No, her origins do not count because she has been absorbed, Indianized, transformed. In that sense, she is no longer Italian.” Perhaps she really became Indian in the middle of an asthma attack when she found herself staring at the pictures of the family in Rajiv’s office and at that very moment she agreed to take the leap into politics. It was then that she fully took on the family legacy.

  Now the avalanche of criticism about her lack of experience and the hate campaign about her origins are making her mature in no time at all. Her personality begins to change subtly as she gains confidence in herself and strengthens her determination to solve the problems of the party, to which she dedicates herself in body and soul. From 1998 to 2004, while two successive coalitions led by the BJP govern India, surprisingly in a very moderate way thanks to the influence of the Prime Minister Atal Bihari Vajpayee, Sonia busies herself with regenerating the Congress Party, simplifying the decision-making process and seeking consensus. She does it in a very different way from her mother-in-law, who was more imperious in her style and encouraged a palace-style culture. Sonia surrounds herself with her children and the experts there are in the Congress ranks, not allowing herself to be influenced by the process of demonization going on against her. She is too busy choosing the right candidates and ensuring that they win favour with the people, state by state, with no rush, but without stopping. Many of her decisions are based on what she has learned from her mother-in-law and her husband, but taking great care to avoid the errors that cost them so dear. For example, she does not change the heads of state government at her whim, as Indira did. On the contrary, she supports them unconditionally, letting them get on with it, and they show their gratitude in their solid loyalty to her. She only has one problem with the head of the Orissa government who, after the murder of a missionary, aligns himself with the Hindu fundamentalists: “The Christian missionaries have to be disciplined,” he declares. Sonia dismisses him immediately, showing that her hand does not shake when it comes to making a decision. But except for the odd specific problem, under her leadership the party becomes a force that needs to be reckoned with again. In 2002, and thanks to Sonia’s patient groundwork, the Congress Party wins power in fourteen states, which adds up to over half of the population. In March of the same year, she wins a sweeping victory in the municipal elections in New Delhi, taking three quarters of the seats. All over, the desertions of members stop and the tendency is reversed: the number begins to grow.

  On May 11th, 2000, India celebrates an unusual event. The government chooses a little girl called Aastha Arora, born in New Delhi, as baby number one billion. The news that the country has reached that magical figure causes an outbreak of popular fervour tinged with nationalism. As everything in India is celebrated, on this occasion too, the people come out on the streets to throw firecrackers and hold parties. Hordes of journalists and reporters rush to the hospital and take over the ward where the baby is, climbing on to the beds and tables in order to get a picture of the chosen child. A journalist from the Indian Express is d
ismayed: “Baby number one billion has been welcomed with so many flashes that the doctors are afraid her skin may be affected.”

  But in spite of the demographic explosion, finally, on the threshold of the new century, the hope of getting rid of poverty emerges. The results of the economy, which has continued to be liberalized since Rajiv’s time, are buoyant. India optimistically experiences a wave of nationalist fervour encouraged from the government led by the BJP. The Press repeats all the time that this is going to be “India’s century”. It looks as if the country is heading down the path to becoming the great power that it promises to be. After so many years of controls and limitations, all the contained energy and vitality overflow. The universities and technical colleges founded in Nehru’s time produce a million engineers a year. A lot, compared with the one hundred thousand from European and American universities. A new generation of businessmen flourishes because of the revolution in computers and telecommunications. Soon India rejoices in coming close behind China in another record, that of being the second largest economy with the greatest level of economic growth in the world. It seems as though that old Indian elephant is stretching himself. The BJP and the Hindus say all the merit is theirs. From the opposition benches, Sonia complains that the economic progress only benefits a booming middle class that worships a new god: consumerism.

  “In prosperous New Delhi,” she reminds them, relying on figures from a recent study published in the newspapers, “one child in four is obese, but in the countryside, half the children aged under three suffer some kind of chronic malnutrition! What kind of progress is that?”

  She repeats that the new wealth does not reach the enormous mass of population living in the villages. Rural India still suffers unemployment, the excesses of the caste system, shortages, lack of opportunities, with the further aggravation that the spread of television allows them to see with their own eyes how the other India lives, the India that enjoys itself, prospers and consumes in the big cities. Sonia reminds the government that India, that country so proud of its state of the art research and development centres, is the home of 40% of the world’s poor.

  “We must not allow ourselves to be carried away by the euphoria caused by the government’s propaganda about the benefits of the reforms. Something is not right when the economy grows to the rhythm of the suicides of poor peasants, who take their own lives because they are in debt to local moneylenders and cannot see a way out of their situation.”

  But it seems as though most MPs do not want to believe her words. These are awkward words really because they tarnish the dream of prosperity and nationalism in which they live. Sonia is preaching in the wilderness, but she does not care if they call her a wet blanket: Nehru and Indira felt a strong commitment to the poor and she is aware that her party has survived because it aligned itself with those most disadvantaged, those whose voice no one wants to hear. Perhaps because she still has the essential innocence of a foreigner, she is still sensitive to the terrible sight of poverty that many Indians who have access to a better lifestyle simply do not see. It is like a sub-conscious reflex that blinds them to the abject poverty all around them. Out of sight, out of mind. Not seeing means not suffering. But Sonia’s eyes are wide open.

  And her voice is heard loud and clear more and more in Parliament: she invariably rejects the achievements of which the government boasts. If peace has returned to the north-east territories, it is not because of action by the government, but because of Rajiv’s efforts to forge a peace deal which has allowed the separatist leaders, who were previously insurgents in the jungles, to be today respectable politicians elected by the people. If the situation has calmed down in the Punjab, it has nothing to do with this government either, it is because of the “Punjab agreements” which were Rajiv’s work. If the moderate Sikh nationalists have realized the advantages to be had in belonging to the Union of India and they have come back to the path of democracy, it is thanks to her husband.

  But the crowning moment of her interventions occurs in March 2002. Suddenly a leader has emerged who speaks fearlessly and without any complexes, with the forcefulness that comes from her profound belief in her opinions. Sonia directly accuses the government of having encouraged another outbreak of religious violence which has placed the country on the edge of the precipice again. It is yet another act in the tragedy of Ayodhya, initiated by members of the government currently in power. After the destruction of the mosque, the Hindu fundamentalists came up against the rejection on the part of the judicial authorities of any attempt to build a temple to the god Rama on the same site, precisely in order not to make matters worse. But the militants did not give up and several groups belonging to organizations linked to the government continued to travel periodically to Ayodhya to insist on their demands. “Wasn’t it included in the programme of the BJP government?” they asked. On the way back from one of those journeys, a tussle broke out between one of those groups of Hindu demonstrators and some Moslem street vendors in the station at Godhra, in the state of Gujarat. The vendors refused to sing songs to glorify the god Rama, as the Hindu militants insisted, so the Hindus began to insult them and pull their beards. Word spread immediately and some young Moslems who were working near the station ran to defend their fellow Moslems who were under attack. The Hindu militants got on the train, which moved off under a hail of stones. Some kilometres further on, the train stopped. A column of black smoke rose into the sky. A fire had broken out on board with the result that 58 people were burned to death, most of them Hindu militants.

  Although later investigations determined that the fire was caused by the accidental explosion of a gas stove, the Hindu extremists did not hesitate to accuse the Moslems of having been the cause. The news that some Hindus were burned alive unleashed the population’s desire for revenge. The head of government in Gujarat, the Hindu fundamentalist Narendra Modi, an ally of the government and Sonia’s arch-enemy, declared February 28th to be a day of mourning so that the funerals of the passengers could be held in the city streets. It was a clear invitation to violence. The Moslem districts turned into death-traps. Thousands of infuriated Hindus took it out on Moslem businesses and offices and torched mosques. Instead of acting forcefully to deal with the violence, Narendra Modi declared: “Every action has a corresponding counter-reaction.” Those words, interpreted by the Hindu extremists as support from their leader to justify the revenge, marked the beginning of an orgy of violence comparable to that of the tragic events that took place during Partition. But this time, thanks to television, the whole country witnessed the dreadful pictures of women beaten and raped by infuriated militants, and then forced to drink kerosene in front of their husbands and children, who then had to watch them being set on fire, before they, in turn, were murdered. It all occurred in the face of the utter impassiveness of the people, who seemed to celebrate that vengeance symbolized by the fire on the train from Godhra. The journalists who covered the massacres are convinced that they were not spontaneous, as the local government claimed, but were planned. They saw Hindu extremists, with electoral rolls under their arms, pointing out the houses and huts inhabited by Moslems in the mixed districts. They saw them pointing out businesses that were the property of Moslems who had taken the precaution of taking on a Hindu name. The efficiency in the persecution and murders make it probable that there was a certain degree of planning. In total, more than two thousand Moslems were murdered and over two hundred thousand were left homeless.

  Sonia is the voice that most heatedly denounces those events. In Parliament, she even accuses the government of encouraging genocide. “Madam, do not use such strong words,” the Prime Minister tells her. But Sonia will not be silent. She denounces the dubious performance of the police. “In certain cases, it is known that they even helped the militants to find the addresses they were seeking.” To support her she quotes reports from the investigations of groups of defence of human rights which show that the police had received orders not to interfere. “What t
his massacre has brought to light, Mr Prime Minister,” Sonia tells him, “is the horrific, sectarian face of your party, the BJP, which you have been so at pains to hide during your years in office, but which now becomes quite obvious… Besides, how is it possible that you did not bother to visit the places devastated by the violence immediately? Why have you waited a month to do so? We know that Mr Narendra Modi is behind these killings, and we are very much afraid that the central government is too!” For the first time Sonia shows herself to be a great politician, denouncing the government with real, heartfelt passion, shaking the Prime Minister with her invective, not sparing a single one of them. The atrocities she has seen on television have scandalised her: “That is not India. That does not represent my country,” she declares. Her interventions mean that the values inherent to the Congress Party stand out more than ever. The claim of the oldest party in India that it represents Indians of all classes and religions is not seen only as something attractive, but essential too. The decency of the Congress Party’s principles get mixed up in people’s minds with the image and voice of this accidental politician who speaks with her heart on her sleeve.

  But the Prime Minster cannot get his party colleague, Narendra Modi, to resign, a measure that was designed to pacify the country. The others will not let him. Better to wait and let the people decide, they tell him. The big surprise is that in the Gujarat state elections, which take place two months after the bloody disturbances, the fearsome Narendra Modi wipes the board again. The reason is that the state is mostly Hindu. His campaign, which was based on a single principle, hatred of Moslems, seems to confirm the old belief of the BJP: if they are well-orchestrated, disturbances based on religious hatred turn into votes. Modi has shown himself to be a conjuror or magician in this art. He takes advantage of the fact that Gujarat borders on Pakistan, which favours the policy of fear of the Islamic enemy.