Mulakat
Afzal
By Vinod K. Jose
19 February, 2006
Countercurrents.org
A
rusted table, and behind it stood a well built man in uniform holding
a spoon in his hand. Visitors, all of them looked habituated, queued
up to open their plastic bags containing food, allowing it to be smelt,
sometimes even tasted. The security man’s spoon paved its way
through the thick grease floating curries—Malai Kofta, Shahi Paneer,
Aalu Bengan, and Mixed Vegetables. As the visitors opened tiny bags
of curries the spoon separated each piece of vegetable from the other,
quite mechanically. 'Frisking' the food of a middle aged woman the spoon
took a dip at the water in the steel bowl nearby. It then moved to the
plastic bags of the next in the queue, an early teenage boy. By now
water in the steel bowl has all kinds of colours. The floating oil gave
it a vibgyor effect when light hit at it on the winter afternoon. Around
4.30 my turn came. The man left the spoon on the table and frisked my
body top to bottom, thrice thoroughly. And when the metal detector made
noise I had to remove my belt, steel watch, and keys. The man on duty
bearing the badge of Tamilnadu Special Police (TSP) looked satisfied.
I am allowed to enter now. This is the fourth security drill I had to
go through to get into the High Risk Ward of Prison No 3 in Tihar Central
Prison. I am on my way to meet Mohammad Afzal, one of the most talked
about man in the contemporary times.
A room with many tiny cubicles. Visitor and inmate were separated by
a thick glass, and iron grills. Both were connected through a mike and
a speaker fixed on the wall. Poorly audible, people at both sides of
the glass strained their ears out touching the wall to listen other.
Mohammad Afzal was already at the other side of the cubicle. His face
gave me an impression of unfathomable dignity and calmness. A little
short man in his mid thirties wearing white kurta paijama had a Reynolds
pen in his pocket. Very clear voice welcomed me with the best of all
mannerisms.
How are you sir?
I said, I'm fine. Am I to
return the same question to a man on the deathrow, was apprehensive
for a second, but I did.
Very fine. Thank you sir,
he answered with warmth.
The conversation went on
for close to an hour, and continued a fortnight later with a second
Mulakat. Both of us were in a hurry to answer and ask whatever one could
in the time. I went on scribbling him in my tiny pocket book. He seemed
to be a person who wanted to tell a lot of things to the world. But
repeated his helplessness to reach people from the current stature of
‘condemned for life’. Excerpts of the interview
There are so many contradicting images of Afzal. Which Afzal
am I meeting? Is it? But as far as I’m concerned there is only
one Afzal. That is me. Who is that Afzal?
A moments’ silence
Afzal as a young, enthusiastic,
intelligent, idealistic young man, Afzal a Kashmiri influenced like
many thousands in the Kashmir Valley in the political climate of early
1990s, who was a JKLF member and crossed over to the other side of Kashmir,
but in a matter of weeks got disillusioned and came back and tried to
live a normal life, but was never allowed to do so by the security agencies
who inordinate times picked me up, tortured the pulp out of me, electrified,
frozen in cold water, dipped in petrol, smoked in chilies you name it,
and falsely implicated in a case, with no lawyer, no fair trial, finally
condemned to death. The lies the police told was propagated by you in
media. And that perhaps created what the Supreme Court referred to as
"collective conscience of the nation”. And to satisfy that
"collective conscience” I’m condemned to death. That
is the Mohammad Afzal you are meeting.
After a moments’ silence, he continued.
But I wonder whether the
outside world knows anything about this Afzal. I ask you, did I get
a chance to tell my story? Do you think justice is done? Would you like
to hang a person without giving him a lawyer? Without a fair trial?
Without listening to what he had to go through in life? Democracy doesn’t
mean all this, does it?
Can we begin with your life? Your life before the case…
It was a turbulent political
period in Kashmir when I was growing up. Maqbul Bhatt was hanged. The
situation was volatile. The people of Kashmir decided to fight an electoral
battle once again to resolve the Kashmir issue through peaceful means.
Muslim United Front (MUF) was formed to represent the sentiments of
Kashmiri Muslims for the final settlement of the Kashmir issue. Administration
at Delhi was alarmed by the kind of support that MUF was gaining and
in the consequence we saw rigging in the election on an unprecedented
scale. And the leaders, who took part in the election and won with huge
majority, were arrested, humiliated and put behind bars. It is only
after this that the same leaders gave call for armed resistance. In
response thousands of youth took to armed revolt. I dropped out from
my MBBS studies in Jhelum Valley Medical College, Srinagar. I was also
one of those who crossed to the other side of Kashmir as a JKLF member,
but was disillusioned after seeing Pakistani Politicians acting the
same as the Indian politicians in dealing with Kashmiris. I returned
after few weeks. I surrendered to the security force, and you know,
I was even given a BSF certificate as surrendered militant. I began
to start the life new. I could not become a doctor but I became a dealer
of medicines and surgical instruments on commission basis (laughs).
With the meager income I even bought a scooter and also got married.
But never a day passed by without the scare of Rashtriya Rifles and
STF men harassing me. If there was a militant attack somewhere in Kashmir
they would round up civilians, torture them to pulp. The Situation was
even worse for a surrendered militant like me. They detained us for
several weeks, and threatened to implicate in false cases and were let
free only if we paid huge bribes. Many times I had to go through this.
Major Ram Mohan Roy of 22 Rashtriya Rifles gave electric shock to my
private parts. Many times I was made to clean their toilets and sweep
their camps. Once I had to bribe the security men with all that I had
to escape from the Humhama STF torture camp. D.S.P. Vinay Gupta and
D.S.P. Davinder Singh supervised the torture. One of their torture experts,
Inspector Shanty Singh, electrified me for three hours until I agreed
to pay one lakh rupees as bribe. My wife sold her jewelry and for the
remaining amount they sold my scooter. I left the camp broken both financially
and mentally. For six months I could not go outside home because my
body was in such a bad shape. I could not even share the bed with my
wife as my penile organ had been electrified. I had to take medical
treatment to regain potency….
Afzal narrated the torture
details with a disturbing calmness on his face. He seemed to have lot
of details to tell me about the torture he faced. But unable to hear
the horror stories of security forces that operate with my tax money,
I cut him short and asked:
If you could come to the Case…, what were the incidents
that led to the Parliament attack Case?
After all the lessons I learned in STF camps, which is either you and
your family members get harassed constantly for resisting or cooperate
with the STF blindly, I had hardly any options left, when D.S.P Davinder
Singh asked me to do a small job for him. That is what he told, “a
small job”. He told me that I had to take one man to Delhi. I
was supposed to find a rented house for him in Delhi. I was seeing the
man first time, but since he did not speak Kashmiri I suspected he was
an outsider. He told his name was Mohammad [Mohammad is identified by
the police as the man who led the 5 gunmen who attacked the Parliament.
All of them were killed by the security men in the attack].
When we were in Delhi Mohammad
and me used to get phone calls from Davinder Singh. I had also noticed
that Mohammad used to visit many people in Delhi. After he purchased
a car he told me now I could go back and gave me 35,000 rupees saying
it was a gift. And I left to Kashmir for Eid.
When I was about to leave to Sopore from Srinagar bus stand I was arrested
and taken to Parimpora police station. They tortured me and took to
STF headquarters and from there brought me to Delhi. In the torture
chamber of Delhi Police Special Cell, I told them everything I knew
about Mohammad. But they insisted that I should say that my cousin Showkat,
his wife Navjot S.A.R. Geelani and I were the people behind the Parliament
attack. They wanted me to say this convincingly in front of media. I
resisted. But I had no option than to yield when they told me my family
was in their custody and threatened to kill them. I was made to sign
many blank pages and was forced to talk to the media and claim responsibility
for the attack by repeating what the police told me to say. When a journalist
asked me about the role of S.A.R. Geelani I told him Geelani was innocent.
A.C.P. Rajbeer Singh shouted at me in the full media glare for talking
beyond what they tutored. They were really upset when I deviated from
their story and Rajbeer Singh requested the journalists not to broadcast
that part where I spoke of Geelani’s innocence.
Rajbeer Singh allowed me to talk to my wife the next day. After the
call he told me if I wanted to see them alive I had to cooperate. Accepting
the charges was the only option in front of me if I wanted to see the
family alive and the Special Cell officers promised they would make
my case weak so I would be released after sometime. Then they took me
to various places and showed me the markets where Mohammad had purchased
different things. Thus they made the evidence for the case.
Police made me a scapegoat in order to mask their failure to find out
the mastermind of Parliament attack. They have fooled the people. People
still don’t know whose idea was to attack the Parliament. I was
entrapped into the case by Special Task Force (STF) of Kashmir and implicated
by Delhi Police Special Cell.
The media constantly played the tape. The police officers received awards.
And I was condemned to death.
Why didn’t you find legal defence?
I had no one to turn to.
I did not even see my family until six months into the trial. And when
I saw them it was only for a short time in the Patiala House Court.
There was no one to arrange a lawyer for me. As legal aid is a fundamental
right in this country I named four lawyers whom I wished to have defended
me. But the judge S.N. Dhingra, said all four refused to do the case.
The lawyer whom the Court chose for me began by admitting some of the
most crucial documents without even asking me what the truth of the
matter was. She was not doing the job properly and finally she moved
to defend another fellow accused. Then the Court appointed an amicus
curie, not to defend me, but to assist court in the matter. He never
met me. And he was very hostile and communal. That is my case, completely
unrepresented at the crucial trial stage. The fact of the matter is
that I did not have a lawyer and in a case like this, what does not
having a lawyer mean everyone can understand. If you wanted to put me
to death what was the need for such a long legal process which to me
was totally meaningless?
Do you want to make any appeal to the world?
I have no specific appeals
to make. I have said whatever I wanted to say in my petition to the
President of India. My simple, appeal is that do not allow blind nationalism
and mistaken perceptions to lead you to deny even the most fundamental
rights of your fellow citizens. Let me repeat what S.A.R. Geelani said
after he was awarded death sentence at the trial court, he said, peace
comes with justice. If there is no justice, there is no peace. I think
that is what I want to say now. If you want to hang me, go ahead with
it but remember it would be a black spot on the judicial and political
system of India.
What is the condition in jail?
I’m lodged in solitary
confinement in the high risk cell. I’m taken out from my cell
only for a short period during noon. No radio, no television. Even the
newspaper I subscribe reaches me torn. If there is a news item about
me, they tear that portion apart and give me the rest.
Apart from the uncertainty about your future, what else concerns
you the most?
Yes, a lot of things concern me. There are hundreds of Kashmiris languishing
in different jails, without lawyers, without trial, without any rights.
The situation of civilians in the streets of Kashmir is not any different.
The valley itself is an open prison. These days the news of fake encounters
is coming out. But that is only the tip of a big iceberg. Kashmir has
everything that you don’t want to see in a civilized nation. They
breathe torture. Inhale injustice.
He paused for a moment.
Also, there are so many thoughts
that come into my mind; farmers who get displaced, merchants whose shops
are sealed in Delhi and so on. So many faces of injustice you can see
and identify, can’t you? Have you thought how many thousands of
people get affected by all this, their livelihood, family…? All
these things too, worry me.
Again a longer pause
Also global developments.
I took to the news of the execution of Saddham Hussain with at most
sadness. Injustice so openly and shamelessly done. Iraq, the land of
Mesopotamia, world’s richest civilization, that taught us mathematics,
use a 60 minute clock, 24 hour day, 360 degree circle, is thrashed to
dust by the Americans. Americans are destroying all other civilizations
and value systems. Now the so called War against Terrorism is only good
in spreading hatred and causing destruction. I can go on saying what
worries me.
Which books are you
reading now?
I finished reading Arundhati
Roy. Now I’m reading Sartre’s work on existentialism. You
see, it is a poor library in the jail. So I will have to request the
visiting Society for the Protection of Detainees and Prisoners Rights
(SPDPR) members for books.
There is a campaign in defence for you…
I am really moved and obliged
by the thousands of people who came forward saying injustice is done
to me. The lawyers, students, writers, intellectuals, and all those
people are doing something great by speaking against injustice.
The situation was such at
the beginning, in 2001 and initial days of the case that it was impossible
for justice loving people to come forward. When the High Court acquitted
SAR Geelani people started questioning the police theory. And when more
and more people became aware of the case details and facts and started
seeing things beyond the lies, they began speaking up. It is natural
that justice loving people speak up and say, injustice is done to Afzal.
Because that is the truth.
Members of your family have conflicting opinion on your case?
My wife has been consistently saying that I was wrongly framed. She
has seen how the STF tortured me and did not allow me to live a normal
life. She also knew how they implicated me in the case. She wants me
to see our son Ghalib growing up. I have also an elder brother who apparently
is speaking against me under duress from the STF. It is unfortunate
what he does, that’s what I can say.
See, it is a reality in Kashmir now, what you call the counter insurgency
operations take any dirty shape—that they field brother against
brother, neighbor against neighbor. You are breaking a society with
your dirty tricks.
As far as the campaign is concerned I had requested and authorized Society
for the Protection of Detainees and Prisoners Society (SPDPR) run by
Geelani and group of activists to do the campaign.
What comes to your mind when you think of your wife Tabassum
and Son Ghalib?
This year is the tenth anniversary of our wedding. Over half that period
I spent in jail. And prior to that, many a times I was detained and
tortured by Indian security forces in Kashmir. Tabassum witnessed both
my physical and mental wounds. Many times I returned from the torture
camp, unable to stand, all kinds of torture including electric shock
to my penis, she gave me hope to live…We did not have a day of
peaceful living. It is the story of many Kashmiri couples. Constant
fear is the dominant feeling in all Kashmiri households.
We were so happy when a child was born. We named our son after the legendary
poet Mirza Ghalib. We had a dream to see our son Ghalib grow up. I could
spend very little time with him. After his second birthday I was implicated
in the case.
What do you want
him to grow up as?
Professionally, if you are
asking, a doctor. Because that is my incomplete dream.
But most importantly, I want him to grow without fear. I want him to
speak against injustice. That I am sure he will be. Who else know the
story of injustice better than my wife and son?
[While Afzal continued talking about his wife and son, I could not stop
recollecting what Tabassum told me when I met her outside Supreme Court
in 2005 during the case’s appeal stage. When Afzal’s family
members remained in Kashmir Tabassum dared to come to Delhi with her
son Ghalib to organize defence for Afzal. Outside the Supreme Court
New Lawyers chamber, at the tiny tea stall on the roadside, she chatted
in detail about Afzal. While sipping and complaining the tea for excess
sugar she told about how Afzal enjoyed cooking. One picture she painted
stuck me deep—one of those dear private moments in their lives,
he would not allow her to enter kitchen, make her seated on the chair
nearby and Afzal would cook, holding one book in his band, a ladle in
the other and read out stories for her.]….
If I may ask you about Kashmir issue…how do you think
it can be solved?
First let the government
be sincere to the people of Kashmir. And let them initiate talk with
the real representatives of Kashmir. Trust me, the real representatives
of Kashmir can solve the problem. But if the government consider peace
process as a tactics of counter insurgency, then the issue is not going
to be solved. It is time some sincerity is shown.
Who are the real people?
Find out from the sentiments of the people of Kashmir. I am not going
to name x, y or z.
And I have an appeal to Indian media; stop acting as a propaganda tool.
Let them report the truth. With their smartly worded and politically
loaded news reports, they distort facts, make incomplete reports, build
hardliners, terrorists et al. They easily fall for the games of the
intelligence agencies. By doing insincere journalism you are adding
to the problem. Disinformation on Kashmir should stop first. Allow Indians
to know the complete history of the conflict, let them know the ground
realities. True democrats cannot turn down the facts. If Indian government
is not taking into account the wishes of Kashmiri people, then they
can’t solve the problem. It will continue to be a conflict zone.
Also you tell me how are you going to develop real trust among Kashmiris
when you send out the message that India has a justice system that hang
people without giving a lawyer, without a fair trial? Tell me, when
hundreds of Kashmiris are lodged in jails most of them with no lawyer,
no hope for justice, are you not further escalating the distrust on
Indian government among Kashmiris? Do you think if you don’t address
the core issues and do a cosmetic effort, you can solve Kashmir conflict?
No, you can’t. Let the democratic institutions of both India and
Pakistan start showing some sincerity, their politicians, Parliament,
justice system, media, intellectuals...
Nine security men were killed in the Parliament attack. What
is that you have to tell their relatives?
In fact I share the pain
of the family members who lost their dear ones in the attack. But I
feel sad that they are misled to believe that hanging an innocent person
like me would satisfy them. They are used as pawns in a completely distorted
cause of nationalism. I appeal them to come out of it and see through
things.
What do you see is your achievement in life?
My biggest achievement perhaps
is that through my case and the campaign on the injustice done to me,
the horror of STF has brought into light. I am happy that now people
are discussing security forces’ atrocities on civilians, encounter
killings, disappearances, torture camps, etc...These are the realities
that a Kashmiri grows up with. People outside Kashmir have no clue what
Indian security forces are up to in Kashmir.
Even if they kill me for no crime of mine, it would be because they
cannot stand the truth. They cannot face the questions arise out of
hanging a Kashmiri with no lawyer.
An ear-splitting electric bell rang. Could hear hurried up conversations
from the neighbor cubicles. This was my last question to Afzal. What
do you want to be known as?
He thought for a minute, and answered: As Afzal, as Mohmammad Afzal.
I am Afzal for Kashmiris, and I am Afzal for Indians as well, but the
two groups have an entirely conflicting perception of my being. I would
naturally trust the judgment of Kashmiri people not only because I am
one among them but also because they are well aware of the reality I
have been through and they cannot be misled into believing any distorted
version of either a history or an incident.
I was confused with this last statement of Mohammad Afzal, but on further
reflection I began to understand what he meant. History of Kashmir and
narration of an incident by a Kashmiri is always a big shock for an
Indian whose sources of knowledge on Kashmir happen to be confined only
to the text books and media reports. Afzal did just that to me.
Two more bells. Time to end Mulakat. But people were still busy conversing.
Mike put off. Speaker stopped. But if you strained your ear, and watched
the lip movement, you could still hear him. The guards made rough round-ups,
asking to leave. As they found visitors not leaving, they put the lights
off, mulakat room turned dark.
In the long stretch of walk out from the Jail No 3 of Tihar jail compound
to the main road I found myself in the company of clusters of twos and
threes, moving out silently—either a cluster of mother, wife and
daughter; or brother, sister and wife; or friend and brother; or someone
else. Every cluster had two things in common. They carried an empty
cotton bag back with them. Those bags had stains of Malai Kofta, Shahi
Paneer and Mixed Vegetables, often spilled over by the rash frisking
of the TSP man’s spoon. The second, I observed, they all wore
inexpensive winter clothes, torn shoes, and outside Gate No 3 they waited
for Bus No 588, Tilak Nagar-Jawaharlal Nehru Stadium bus, that perhaps
took them to Dhaulakuan main junction—they are the poor citizens
of this country. Remembered President Abdul Kalam’s musing how
poor people were the awardees of capital punishments. My interviewee
is also one. When I asked him how much ‘tokens’ (the form
of currency allowed in the jail) he had, he said “enough to survive”.
Vinod K. Jose is a foreign correspondent attached with
Radio Pacifica Network, USA. He is based in New Delhi. [email protected]
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