UN Resolution 1325,¹ adopted by the Security Council in 2000, recognizes that women and children account for the vast majority of those adversely affected by armed conflict and are increasingly targeted by armed combatants. But whereas previous documents had largely focused on women as victims, Resolution 1325 emphasizes the need for women to be better represented in decision-making. Arguably, women should be leaders. Their gender roles, while disadvantaging them in other respects may equip them to take a lead in responding to violence and conflict. Individual women may develop different styles of leadership but where women act as a collective force the style may come to reflect gender roles more strongly. Experience from Gujarat appears to indicate that this may lead to a non-confrontational approach concerned with practical results rather than general principles.

The Self Employed Women’s Association (SEWA), based in Ahmedabad, Gujarat, has long promoted the concept of women as leaders and SEWA focuses on building women’s leadership skills.² SEWA recognizes that women’s gender roles in India, despite some disadvantages, give them advantages such as thinking forwards (to plan for family needs) and a strong attachment to practical results. This makes women better than men at preparing for crises and also responding when they occur. The ‘self-employed’ status of many women adds to these skills. In particular, they are used to making decisions and acting on them.

Gujarat has experienced a series of pogroms against its Muslim minority. These are often described as ‘communal riots’ but this term disguises the one-sidedness of the events. In the ‘communal riots’ of 1985, for example, 19,000 people fled from their homes in Ahmedabad to makeshift camps. 98% of all those displaced were Muslims. The background to these events is the relentless decline of the textile industry and the breakdown of what was once a comfortable and secure working class, but made up of Hindus, Muslims and other communities generally working in segregated units. This opened the way for a ‘scapegoat’ mentality in which minorities take the blame when members of the majority community lose their jobs.

 

There has been a direct link between factory closures and violence. The 1969 riots occurred at the end of a very severe period of factory closure and retrenchment of workers. Preceding the riots of 1985 and 1986, 17 textile mills closed and 40,000 workers were made redundant.³ In all three cases the ‘riots’ were centred on working class areas of the city and laid off workers were active participants.

SEWA estimates that over the twenty year period before the devastating riots in 2002, more than 80,000 regular mill workers and 50,000 casual workers were laid off. Including families, as many as 700,000 people in the city had been affected. Over a single generation there had been a change from a situation in which the majority of the city’s workforce had secure jobs in factories to one in which 77% of all workers were now in the informal sector.⁴ Inevitably, there was a tendency to blame minorities for this state of affairs, and in Gujarat the most prominent minority was the Muslims.

The dominant Gandhian labour union, the Textile Labour Association (TLA), had allowed the practice of segregation to develop and, as the industrial crisis developed, protected jobs for men rather than for women, taking the view that men should be protected as ‘breadwinners’. Accordingly, working women in Ahmedabad were used to ‘self-employment’ rather than employment in the textile mills. Many of the men laid off by the mills thought that working in the informal sector was beneath their dignity. SEWA reported widespread alcoholism, suicides and an increase in domestic violence:

‘Many of our earliest members were wives, mothers, sisters and daughters of mill workers. They reported that their menfolk felt lost after the mills closed down. The textile mills were not only the main source of employment, but they were also a way of life… Women said that many men had turned to drink.’⁵

 

Criminal networks were particularly active in Ahmedabad because of the opportunities for smuggling alcohol into the ‘dry’ state. Rivalry between Muslim and Hindu gangs was a factor increasing communal tensions. At the same time, positive forces in society were weakening. The TLA had helped restrain violence in 1969 but had become deeply embedded in caste and party politics and was ineffective in the later ‘riots’. As a SEWA report notes:

‘The strength of the union had decreased, their power and voice had weakened, and the old ties and solidarity networks were no longer as active.’⁶

 

A further factor that made the 2002 ‘riots’ particularly serious was the deliberate planning of the event and the connivance of senior politicians. The exact degree remains contentious, but it is widely believed that the violence was deliberately instigated and this meant that it spread much faster than any efforts to limit or constrain it. Arguably, no civil society organization could have restrained the 2002 ‘riots’. It was sudden, pre-planned and allowed to run its course for several days without state intervention.

SEWA had developed as a scrupulously non-political organization but had access to politicians and officials at the highest level, particularly because of the standing of Ela Bhatt, SEWA’s founder. As soon as the ‘riots’ began, she contacted senior politicians and officials, but it quickly became clear that despite their assurances, they were not wholeheartedly committed to restraining the violence. Either no action was taken to restrain the violence or it was taken too late.

In the first few days Ela Bhatt and other SEWA organizers were not allowed to visit the affected areas (‘for their own safety’), but eventually she visited one of the worst-affected areas, Aman Chowk, and listened to SEWA members. Their primary concern was for safety (her own as much as theirs) and they begged Ela Bhatt to do nothing that might inflame the situation. A report on the events published on SEWA’s website describes the frustration of those first few days:

‘It was becoming clear that the police and other state machinery were not only incapable of controlling the murderous mobs, but also did not want to. With a few exceptions, they either turned a blind eye or actively aided the attackers.’⁷

SEWA was in an extremely difficult position. About a third of its members at the time of the riots were Muslims and there was a fear that the organization itself might be targeted because it supported Muslims. SEWA received threats and a small bomb was planted outside its main office in Ahmedabad. There was also a serious prospect of division within SEWA. In some areas Hindu and Muslim members had been provoked to attack each other. The cadre of professional staff, including Ela Bhatt, were mainly Hindu. Muslim husbands were putting pressure on their wives not to support SEWA. Hindu husbands accused it of being pro-Muslim and told their wives to abandon it. Would the members now turn against SEWA?

 

Some members became deeply cynical about all ideals and good intentions, including SEWA’s belief in unity. One of its Muslim activists, Rahimaben, said: ‘Now so many women were bitter and accusing. They would see me and say, where is your unity now?’

But as in other crises, individual SEWA members emerged as strong local leaders and gradually the majority came to believe in a future and in SEWA. One of the longest-standing organizers, Manaliben, recalled that:

‘Many of the local leaders (‘aagewans’) were on the road, defying the mob and curfew, inquiring about their colleagues and other SEWA members. They would call me and often give me an account of the areas. I was very worried about them. I sometimes shouted at them – What are you doing so far away from home? Go home, it is too dangerous to venture out.’⁸

As women, SEWA organizers were allowed greater freedom by the security forces than men. But it was probably the courage and determination of the local leaders that persuaded police officers to let them move around the city’s devastated areas. Passes were obtained for SEWA to make a full assessment across the city. Teams were made up from 175 grassroots workers, mainly from the trade committees, health programme and the SEWA Bank. They focused on immediate support from SEWA’s own resources, arranging for savings to be withdrawn so that people had the means for survival. They surveyed the loss of life, health problems and damage to property.

 

Preliminary assessments for insurance claims were also made – it was estimated that 30,000 urban members would be eligible for compensation. More than 10,000 members’ houses had been burnt down or otherwise destroyed. A further 2,000 members’ houses had been completely looted. Fortunately, only four members had died – fewer than expected.

SEWA members were actively involved in relief and recovery when most men were still in a state of shock and demoralization. The women’s determination to feed their families and recover their livelihood drove them into action. This early action helped to counter a sense of despair, mainly among men, that was leading to further separation of Muslims and Hindus. Whereas the communities had lived in small groups adjacent to each other, now whole sections of the city were becoming ‘Muslim’ or ‘Hindu’. This was partly because people had evacuated their homes in areas where they were in a minority and now lived in camps or on the outskirts of the city.

Whereas SEWA was hoping that people would go back to their original homes, houses, mosques and graveyards were being systematically obliterated from those areas and the authorities were doing nothing to stop it. A speedy response was necessary not only for people’s welfare, but to prevent the segregation of the city. The key issue was livelihoods – to revive the economy that held the city together.

 

The SEWA Bank made a survey of losses against its loans. If members had lost the papers on which the loans were recorded, the bank provided new records, negotiated extended periods for repayment and supported members in their claims for compensation from government and from SEWA’s insurance scheme. It gave new loans to members with a proven record. This proactive banking process became one of the first ways of re-establishing contact between the communities. The local activists who collected savings resumed their practice of moving around the city, visiting all religious groups. Rekhaben, one of these bank-sathis, recalled:

‘I would hang the SEWA identity card around my neck and go out into the street. There were police all around. They would beat their sticks on the ground or point their guns to frighten me, and shout at me to go back. But I would tell them who I was and show them my card and they would let me through. I would pass deserted and burnt-out shops and houses. It was terrifying. But our women needed to give me their money for safe keeping. I would put myself in God’s hands, and so far I have always come back safely.’⁹ 

The next priority for SEWA was to start child care centres, giving mothers some respite after their terrible experiences and beginning a process that might enable them to return to their (self-employed) work. The child centres provided education, food and safety, but they also helped children to make sense of what had happened. The psychological effect of the ‘riots’ was more serious than anything SEWA had previously encountered, even the earthquake in 2001. Whereas people could ultimately make sense of the earthquake as an ‘Act of God’, the riots raised questions about belief in human nature, the state and religion. Where neighbour had turned against neighbour, it was very hard for people to recover positive feelings. Activity of any kind became an escape from such thoughts and so SEWA’s routine work on savings and insurance also helped to restore communication and a sense of purpose.

SEWA sent reports on the camps to officials and urged them to take over responsibility for food and other basic needs in the camps. The aim was to bring about a re-engagement of the state with people’s lives and restore confidence and dialogue. After a period of inaction, the government began to take up its responsibility for relief and recovery. There was a need for distribution of sewing machines, handcarts etc, but SEWA focused on recreating market linkages. So many people had moved that trades were disrupted. The head-loaders who carried goods in the main market ‘literally saw their source of livelihood go up in smoke as the wholesale shops to which they have been linked for generations were completely gutted.’¹⁰

 

Temporarily at least, many SEWA members had to turn to lower paid type of work such as bidi making, rolling incense sticks, garment stitching and quilt-making. Whereas men tended to wait for their former occupation to resume, women readily took up new crafts. But it was not enough just to deliver the materials; markets had to be re-established. The main companies dealing in bidis were unwilling to send their agents to collect goods from Muslim areas because they might be attacked by Hindu mobs. SEWA organizers had to take on the role of agents, delivering the raw materials and counting the bidis.

 

Groups that made paper bags found a new market through SEWA’s own health cooperative, which used them to pack the medicines sold in hospitals where there was an increasing demand. But in the longer term there could be no stability until trade was re-established between the two communities. The need for peace now became a focal point of attention in relation to livelihoods. Accordingly, SEWA now mapped out the relationship between people in different occupations. It was found that the two communities were extremely dependent on each other. For example, a Hindu contractor gave work to Muslim incense-stick makers. A Muslim kite-maker supplied Hindu shopkeepers. Muslim merchants bought bidis from Hindu workers. Muslim women relied on Hindu artisans to repair their sewing machines. This indicated that by recovering their livelihoods, people would also recover their relationship with the other communities.

On March 4, a week after the ‘riots’ began, SEWA’s executive committee (made up mainly of representatives of its members) met in Ahmedabad. After singing the Gandhian ‘unity’ prayer¹¹ which preceded every meeting, discussion began about the way forward. A critical point was the interdependence of workers from all different communities and it was quickly agreed that the main aim should be to strengthen the links between Hindus and Muslims.

SEWA had come under increasing pressure from other civil society organizations to speak out openly in condemnation of the violence and the state’s complicity. This was debated by the executive committee:

‘Should we make a public appeal for peace? Will anyone listen in this charged atmosphere? What is the first priority of our sisters? Survival. We decided to concentrate on reaching out to our members and other affected people… On the one hand there was no denying that the government had failed in its primary duty to protect Gujarat’s citizens. At the same time we had to urge our government to provide security and to develop programmes to help people to rebuild their lives…

People’s organizations like SEWA, NGOs and others were providing whatever services they could. But this could not be a substitute for the large-scale and long-term rehabilitation measures required. Only the government can do this.’¹²

 

Criticism of government would undermine the government’s response when it was most needed. The initial period of permitted anarchy was over and the damage had been done. Law and order was already re-established and the government was now beginning to meet its responsibilities. A public statement might also increase tension between the communities and lead to repercussions against SEWA and its members. They had been consulted and did not want a public statement. Some of SEWA’s senior organizers were initially keen to make a strong public statement but because SEWA is a membership organization it was the views of the members that prevailed.

 

No organization had stood out strongly in the first few days but now a group of other civil society organizations in Gujarat made a public call for peace and criticized the lack of action by government. Details of atrocities and the direct involvement of police and other officials were published. SEWA was criticized for not taking part in this. Two factors may help to explain why SEWA took a different course. First, SEWA is a membership organization and it is the members rather than leaders who are responsible for decisions. These members enjoyed none of the immunity from repercussions that civil society leaders might expect. Second, as a women’s organization, SEWA showed a strong focus on practical results for its members rather than on being seen to do the right thing. In a sense SEWA had to swallow its pride and get on with the job, facing charges of lack of principle from many quarters. This lower value for status may reflect, at least to a degree, gender differences. Similarly, SEWA’s character as a working class organization may also have contributed to a pragmatic rather than principled approach.

In ethics it is often the case that where two principles clash (in this case practical action versus speaking out) and a decision has to be taken on one side or the other, there is a responsibility to compensate as far as possible for any damage being done in relation to the negated principle. Accordingly, behind the scenes, Ela Bhatt and others in SEWA worked to improve the government response. She showed no hesitation in working with those who were later to be accused of fuelling the ‘riots’. She directly told the chief minister that the government’s support for relief camps was inadequate and that it should be budgeted for at least three months instead of just fifteen days.

This initiative opened up a dialogue with the government. Three hours later, the Revenue Department phoned to ask her for budgets to support this extension. The prime minister twice asked Ela Bhatt to brief him on the situation. She told him that the compensation given to the victims was ‘haphazard and ridiculous’. A director from the prime minister’s office was sent to investigate and as a result, a full re-assessment was carried out, in which SEWA participated. Ela Bhatt was later appointed as a member of the state committee on relief and rehabilitation.

SEWA worked with the government in many ways. The government promised compensation for each person killed in the riots, but in many cases the body could not be found and police officers sometimes refused to cooperate in issuing papers. SEWA worked to facilitate the process and also to increase the level of compensation. It took up a number of legal cases on behalf of the members, finding documents and pressurizing the police to provide the necessary endorsements.

 

When the prime minister of India finally visited Gujarat on April 4, over a month after the first riots, Ela Bhatt spoke in his presence at a public meeting, using carefully chosen words:

‘We are ashamed that the prime minister of our country has to visit Gujarat at this time. What has happened in Gujarat is terrible. The country was divided in 1947. Today it is as if our hearts were divided…. There can never be peace by making Muslims insecure. That is not nationalism. Why don’t our political parties understand this?’

The prime minister later visited some of the affected areas and spoke with those who had suffered, including some of the Muslim SEWA members. Recognizing that this group was not likely to receive proper attention he requested SEWA to take over from government the responsibility of looking after widows and orphans and promised financial support from the prime minister’s relief fund.

 

By re-establishing links with government, SEWA was able to deliver benefits for its members. It is not at all clear that any practical result would have ensued from ‘speaking out’. A few months later the government was re-elected with an increased majority. Clearly there was only a limited degree of public concern about its handling of the ‘riots’. Perhaps the clearest vindication of SEWA’s position is that its membership increased dramatically in the year after the riots: from 284,000 to 530,000 which is by far the biggest increase in its history. The majority of new members were Muslims and today around half of SEWA’s members are Muslim.

SEWA’s experience suggests a number of conclusions around the issue of women and peace at least within the context under review:

* Women’s determination to overcome crises makes them natural local leaders;

* The leadership style of working class women is less confrontational than men’s and more concerned with practical results;

* Women have particular skills in turning an adverse situation to their advantage (and the advantage of those they represent) by working with rather than against those with greater power;

* Women’s experience of self-employment enables them to recognize the interdependency of labour and this can be a force for peace.

 

Footnotes:

1. http://www.un.org/events/res_1325e.pdf

2. K. Rose, Where Women are Leaders: The SEWA Movement in India, Zed Press, 1992.

3. A. Varshney, Ethnic Conflict and Civic Life: Hindus and Muslims in India, Yale University Press, 2002, p. 252.

4. SEWA, Shantipath, 2002, p. 2 See SEWA website.

5. SEWA, 2002, p. 3.

6. Ibid.

7. Ibid., p. 6.

8. Ibid., p. 7.

9. Ibid., p. 19.

10. Ibid., p. 23.

11. ‘Sarvadharma Sambhava’ – respecting all faiths equally.

12. SEWA, 2002, p. 11, 25.