In the early morning hours of December 3, 1984, 27 tons of methyl
isocyanate (MCI) gas escaped from a Union Carbide pesticide plant
located in Bhopal, India. In real life scenes reminiscent of horror
movies, thousands of residents ran through the streets, choking,
vomiting blood and miscarrying fetuses as they attempted to flee
from the fatal cloud of gas. Some were trampled to death by the
panicked crowds. It is estimated that between 7,000 and 10,000
people died in
the days immediately after the incident and an additional 15,000
have died since.
When news of the twentieth anniversary of the
Bhopal incident was announced, I said somewhat sheepishly, “Has it really been
twenty years?” I was embarrassed. I had quite simply forgotten
about Bhopal. A lot has happened around the world in the last twenty
years. America has made war on Iraq twice and I have frankly lost
count of the number of times Jean Bertrand Aristide has been run
out of his elected office. There is a lot to think about, but that
doesn’t excuse forgetting the Bhopal horror. Not only had I forgotten,
but the few memories that remained were completely false.
My initial questions were, “Didn’t they sue?” “Weren’t they compensated?” I
recall one editorial cartoon depicting an army of ambulance chasing
lawyers parachuting into Bhopal. Agonizing death was reduced to
a joke. People deserving of justice were mocked, treated like greedy
Americans who deliberately slip and fall to earn some extra change.
In fact, no one was ever held liable for this
crime. In 1991 Indian courts ordered Warren Anderson, Union Carbide’s
CEO, to face criminal charges. Anderson, like every other common
criminal, refused to
show up. He was declared a fugitive but the United States government
ignored the extradition request and in September 2004 rejected it
without comment.
A settlement was worked about between the Indian government and
Union Carbide in 1989. Victims were not consulted about its provisions,
which included giving the corporation immunity from civil and criminal
prosecution. According to the Amnesty International report, Clouds
of Injustice, little of the compensation has made its way to
victims.
The settlement, endorsed by the Indian Supreme Court in 1989,
involved UCC paying US $470 million. Even this inadequate sum has
not been distributed in full to the victims. About 30% of claims
for injuries have been rejected by the government, around 16,000
claims are outstanding, and most of the successful applicants have
received minimal amounts of compensation. As of September 2004,
around US$330 million of the US$470 million remained held by the
Reserve Bank of India.
Twenty years later Americans mutter that globalization has sent
jobs to India. Perhaps we should think about Bhopal when we complain
about help desk employees named Rajendra who are told to call themselves
Rob. We should throw off our collective amnesia and think of the
corporate malfeasance that has brought injury and death to every
corner of the globe.
Contrary to popular opinion, American suffering
is not worse than anyone else’s. Millions have suffered because of powerful and corrupt
interests in our country and in others. The Indian government didn’t
bother looking out for the Robs/Rajendras of Bhopal when they had
the opportunity. They sucked up to a big corporation and gave their
own people short shrift.
So we are all victims. People thrown out of
work in this country are certainly victims. If corporations and
politicians in America
wanted to do something about job loss caused by globalization they
certainly could. They do nothing because cheap labor makes for
a fat wallet. Don’t get mad at Rajendra. Get mad at Congress. Get
mad at Wall Street.
The Bhopal plant would never have existed without the shady alliance
that always exists between governments and big business. The plant
produced pesticides that
were to be part of a World Bank financed “green revolution” that
would supposedly benefit Indian farmers. The green revolution instead
displaced many Indian farmers and the pesticides produced were
too expensive for those that remained. The plant described by
Union Carbide in 1982 as having a "serious potential for sizable
releases of toxic materials" was in fact dormant when
it killed thousands of people in 1984.
Three years after the September 11th attacks
Americans are willing to put up with almost anything if they
are told they are being
kept safe from terror. Their corporate masters don’t feel the same
way. While we submit to strip searches in airports, chemical plants
across the U.S. can be easily sabotaged. The chemical industry
has successfully fought all attempts to regulate safety standards.
There are thousands of potential Bhopals
across the United States.
Meanwhile back at the corporate ranch, Dow Chemical purchased
Union Carbide in 1991. Dow also denies any responsibility for liability
or for cleaning up the site but assures
us that it has “never forgotten that tragic event.” Thank God
for small favors. I am sure that the physically and emotionally
scarred survivors of Bhopal are grateful that Dow remembers them.