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.