Caught in the crossfire

The stories of human sufferings in an unjust world are often subsumed in dominant political-economy discourses that focus on resource extraction as a means of so-called human development. 

Charlie Hebdo killings may have moved the world but continuing massacre in Congo has largely gone unnoticed. The decade-old conflict between the government forces and the rebels, which some observers call ‘Africa’s World War’, has consumed millions of lives. Despite the presence of a transitional government in recent years, people in many parts of the country remain in fear of continuing death, rape or displacement.

Dealing with the crises of survival amidst the horror of bloody war in Congo, human rights activist Lisa Shannon, author of the much acclaimed 'A Thousand Sisters', has pieced together stories of survivors in Mama Koko & The Hundred Gunmen.  Far from being silenced by the whirlwind of tragic history, the survivors offer compelling testimony to the strength of human spirit in the face of unimaginable adversity. Risking her own life, the author has documented her subjects’ unending ordeal that may serve as a call for global action to end human carnage in central Africa.

The story is set in Dungu, a town located at the confluence of the Dungu and Kibali rivers, which has been a war-zone ever since Joseph Kony’s Lord’s Resistance Army (LRA) relocated from Sudan and set itself up in Garamba National Park in 2008. LRA ranks may have dwindled in recent years but the spiral of violence has killed more than two thousand people and displaced half a million population. The collapse of local government and failure of international peace efforts has made locals vulnerable to attacks and distrusting of their own leaders and army.

Caught in this crossfire is Mama Koko’s large family, their lives paralyzed by some hundred gunmen camped at the edge of the town. With death stalking the family members, they nonetheless gather courage to narrate their horrifying tales to Shannon and contribute to her human rights campaign for protecting the women in Congo. Interrupted by sounds of gunshots and disrupted by news of encounters, Shannon learns that ‘the choices under pressure are the only true measure of character’. The harshness and beauty of humanity co-exist in this war-torn region, offering portraits of the indomitable human spirit.

Mama Koko’s son Nico may not have perished had he not been wearing the fancy wrist watch gifted by his sister Francisca. But that was not to be as the Congolese army officers wanted it after one amongst them had spotted the precious watch on Nico’s wrist while he was out in the Bangadi market. With little support from its own army, the family had no time to grieve as the marauding rebels were not too far to annihilate them. Striking a balance between personal tragedies and impersonal forces, Shannon has held herself back from direct engagement while reporting the gruesome events unfolding before her.

It’s never easy for a writer to negotiate the bloody shakeup of history. Far from being silenced or rendered speechless by the complicated political transformation, Shannon chose to narrate the compelling stories as vital testimonies to reflect on the role each one of us can play. On purpose, the author stayed away from the complex history of the ongoing system of violence in Congo. Through the personal story of Mama Koko and her family, discerning readers are encouraged to deepen their understanding of Congo and Joseph Kony’s endurance as a self-proclaimed prophet, rendering Joseph Conrad’s Heart-of-Darkness, published in 1899, a contemporary meaning.

Shannon’s emphasis in Mama Koko and the Hundred Gunmen is on extraordinary tale of a marginal family, caught amidst the crossfire for power and control. The cruel irony is that the story is set in a country that is one of the most mineral-rich regions on the planet. Ever since the repressive regime of King Leopold of Belgium took control of Congo in the nineteenth century, the Congolese men and women have been the victims of unending wars for ownership of their country’s future. Shannon must be credited for bringing to life the stories of human sufferings in an unjust world, which are often subsumed in dominant political-economy discourses that focus on resource extraction as a means of so-called human development.

Mama Koko & the Hundred Gunmen
by Lisa J. Shannon
Public Affairs, New York
Extent: 213, Price: $24.99

This review was first published in Deccan Herald on June 28, 2015

All smoke, no fire

Could environmental issues be left to the call of the politicians and technocrats when the issue is essentially linked to people and their daily survival? 

Need it be said that integrating environmental concerns into the mainstream of economic growth is beset with unresolved complexities, leading to unwarranted conflicts. No surprise, therefore, that for the present-day growth-obsessed state politics, ecological concerns are no more than middle-class ‘lifestyle environmentalism’ aimed at stalling economic progress, which the growth-jihadis have unhesitatingly started calling a conspiracy to keep the country in a state of perpetual poverty.

Notwithstanding the fact that successive governments have been hostile to the environmentalism of its times albeit selectively, during his 25-month tenure as the minister of environment, Jairam Ramesh remained firm in acknowledging that the dissenting voices of non-governmental organisations were essential to the democratic processes, and not part of some foreign plot to destabilize the country. Could environmental issues be left to the call of the politicians and technocrats when the issue was essentially linked to people and their daily survival?

Green Signals chronicles the time spent by the author behind the “transparent door” (he apparently installed transparent doors wherever he had been a minister) which led to the transformation of an enviro-agnostic into an enviro-believer minister, and Ramesh doesn’t seem to have any regrets on this unintended conversion because he was tasked to rid the ministry of its “corrupt” and “managed” image. To this end, and much to the displeasure of his cabinet colleagues, the minister not only heard every word of dissent, but engaged with multiple stakeholders to let them into the policy-making process.

Far from scoring any brownie points from among competing interests, Ramesh was at the receiving end of their wrath instead. While the growth zealots dubbed him as anti-development, the conservationists accused him of not backing intent into action. By his own admission, the rate of environment clearances could only be reduced by about five per cent, from a high of nearly 99.99 per cent in the past. Holding public hearings on controversial Bt Brinjal, saying “no” to bauxite mining in the Niyamgiri Hills, and setting up the Madhav Gadgil Committee on Western Ghats didn’t add-up to conjure an eco-friendly image for the minister. 

This was bound to happen given the precarious balancing act the minister was trapped into, between contradictory pulls and pushes. Green Signals can be easily read as an exercise in self-defence by the then environment minister, but it could also be seen as an unfinished agenda of change that Ramesh had embarked upon. That his short-tenure evoked strong responses stands testimony to his out-of-the-box approach in putting in place a system within the ministry that made choices on the basis of hard facts and information without losing on transparency and accountability, the key anchors of the new approach in decision-making. 

Within a democratic system, trade-off between environment and development is determined by the political economy of growth. No wonder, the environment ministry cannot act at his own behest without taking the chief ministers, the cabinet ministers and the prime minister on board. Quite often, Ramesh had ended-up rubbing the wrong side of his colleagues in other ministries which were entrusted with the task of taking the country high on the growth trajectory. Green Signals is an honest record of a minister negotiating the twists and turns involved in trying to ensure ecological security amidst growth fundamentalism. 

It is clear that Ramesh was not keen on keeping diverse stakeholders, both within and outside the government, in good humour. Instead, he tried to find ways to make high economic growth ecologically sustainable. In doing so, he sought to move away from the binary approach to green clearances for projects to a three-way classification — ‘yes’, ‘yes, but’, and ‘no’. Such an approach warranted a need for acknowledging diverse perspectives and for appreciating good science within the framework of constitutional provisions, such that predictability of outcome and possibility of conflict could be avoided. 

Ramesh was seized of the fact that hard choices by the state will lead to public grievances, for which he played an important role in setting up the National Green Tribunal (NGT). The functioning of NGT indicates that it will take a lot of doing on the part of subsequent governments to “undo” the institutional changes he could bring about in his short but momentous tenure. Conservationists ought to be kind to him because the impacts of his decisions are likely to last longer than his short stint with the environment ministry. 

Green Signals is a rare gesture of honouring the democratic obligation of reporting back to the people about what went behind the “transparent door”, which will go a long way in writing the history of environmental decision-making in the country. 

Green Signals: Ecology, Growth and Democracy in India 
by Jairam Ramesh
Oxford University Press, New Delhi
Extent: 616, Price: Rs. 850 

This review was first published in Deccan Herald on June 14, 2015