The untold story of the Kashmir earthquake

India's central assistance to Kashmir is a gesture that is not paying political dividends

Ronald Abraham Uri

Around three months have passed since the earthquake in the disputed Kashmir region that struck on October 8, 2005 at 9:20 a.m. (IST). This was the first and most severe of the earthquakes that have overwhelmed the region in the recent past. Initially, the sheer magnitude of the earthquake, measuring 7.6 on the Richter scale, caught public attention. After Pakistan confirmed the death of 84,000 people, and India 1,300, the event went past the "breaking news" stage to the relief efforts and the possibility of thawing Indo-Pakistan ties and the emergence of the militant outfits in Pakistan in relief aid. Editorials lamented the Pakistan army's lack of efforts.

This reporter went to Uri believing that the coverage had been complete and there was little else to reveal. However talking to residents and officials, many issues that had been sidelined by the media were unearthed. What struck immediately was the unprecedented overkill of certain relief materials in Uri. Trucks and trucks of relief came pouring in even when the worst was over and the real fear is the present winter. Many families had eight or more blankets when the real requirement was about three or four. The initial per capita allowance of food grain was 11 kg per month. There was not a single person in Uri and the nearby villages who did not get this. When a lack of relief supplies is a dominating story in most natural tragedies, the apparent reversal of this in Kashmir was surprisingly not reported by the media.

However, an excess of relief comes with its own problems. The distribution of relief items was inequitable and unsystematic. The administration and army understandably possess records of each person in the affected area because of its proximity to the Line of Control (LoC). Each family is also supplied with a ration card. Such a rich information base makes distribution extremely easy but, of course, tenuous. This system would have allowed excesses to be measured and kept aside, lest a shortage arises. Relief could also have been handed over to Pakistan as the impact there was over 60 times than that in India. This was an especially feasible idea after the LoC was opened recently for passage of relief and relatives of affected people.

Instead of such a systematic distribution, pandemonium ensued everytime a relief truck came by. Those that live near the streets managed to reach the relief vehicles faster and hence got much more than those living higher up on the hills. Ironically enough, those living near the streets are also the ones who are relatively better off. Therefore, the relief work was exacerbating the existing inequality that prevailed in the region. Relief officials claimed that distribution was not their "burden". This is apparently the role of the village panchayat head. These panchayat heads come with political affiliations and distribute relief according to each person's political leanings.

To confirm what this reporter witnessed by way of the abundance of relief supplies, one senior jawan of the Central Reserve Police Force said that the relief supplies Kashmir is getting is over ten times more than what he himself witnessed in Latur and Bhuj. The informant's casual observation was supported by facts. The following figures from the natural disaster management wing of the ministry of home affairs are startling.

For the earthquake in Bhuj, Gujarat that struck on January 26, 2001, total central assistance amounted to Rs 510 crore. This earthquake was one of the most damaging in India's history, killing over 20,000 people. To get a relative idea of the amount distributed, one can calculate the ratio of monetary assistance to the number of casualties. Thus, for every person who died the government spent about Rs 2.6 lakh. Even if we include all the external aid that

came in from the World Bank, Asian Development Bank, state governments and donor countries, the relief effort got about Rs 4,400 crore. That is about Rs 22 lakh per casualty. Contrast this with the Kashmir quake that took 1,300 lives. A total Rs 650 crore was doled out by the Indian government to manage this quake. That is Rs 50 lakh per casualty. Thus the victims of the Kashmir earthquake got 20 times more in per casualty terms than their counterparts in Gujarat. Even when all the external aid that accrued to Gujarat is included, what that state got was less than half compared to what Kashmir got from the centre alone. While the hilly terrain and high altitude of Kashmir does increase the cost of relief efforts, nothing explains such a gross inequity. Has anybody taken note of this?

The reason for this inequity — something our "people sensitive" media may not venture into — lies in the Indian government's keenness to portray that they are overtly concerned about the Kashmiri victims. The government wants to avoid even the slightest blemish and not give an opportunity for proponents of "Azad Kashmir" to point a finger at the centre. However, it is a pity that earthquakes that had a much more severe impact on Indian citizens received much lesser attention simply because the government could afford to take these people for granted. Alas, these states do not have secessionist tendencies. Therefore, there is no real need to be nice to them. This is akin to the nosier baby always getting the chocolate.

The worst part is that in reality no purpose of the government is really served. The people of Kashmir are still complaining and residents said that "this government should let us be free if it can't take care of us". They, of course, do not know that what they have received is many times more than parts of the country that are not disputed. There are no kind words for the government anywhere. The army, however, has been praised at places for its immediate help when the quake struck.

However, this public relations disaster is not new for the centre. According to a report by the Centre for Policy Alternatives, the per capita Tenth Plan allocation to Jammu and Kashmir (J and K) is Rs 14,400, while it was Rs 2,500 to Bihar and Rs 5,200 to Orissa. Even the national average was Rs 5,700. Thus J and K received almost thrice as much as the national average and nearly six times as much as Bihar. Considering that Bihar and Orissa are India's two poorest states and J and K has the least percentage of people below the poverty line in India, this is acutely unjust. Furthermore, J and K is a "Special Category State" and hence receives more grants from the centre than other "normal" states. But how much more? J and K gets about Rs 4,400 crore as Central grants while Bihar and Orissa get Rs 1,350 crore and Rs 1,900 crore respectively.

Despite J and K getting funding that is many times more than other states, people in Kashmir have no idea about this. In fact, what the centre provides is about 28 per cent of the J and K GDP. This adds another dimension to the demand for Kashmiri independence and the ending of the central assistance from India. It is likely that withdrawal of this subsidy would send the already slow economy into recession. Unemployment would increase manifold and the resulting social unrest would be much harsher than what the state faces today. Considering that the centre is pumping so much money into the state, the least it can do is get political mileage out of it by highlighting these facts. However, almost every Kashmiri you meet will go out of his way to be courteous and cordial, but at the same time would candidly tell you that they are Kashmiris and not Indians and would prefer Kashmir to be “Azad.”

The politically correct press will not question why the Indian government is so generous to a people who want to get away from its sway, while it ignores those who make no secessionist claims. This neglect of humanitarian assistance by the centre to large parts of India needs to be put in the dock. The crime is no lesser than the mass murder presided over by the Modi-led government in Gujarat. Fingers must point without fear or favour.

The author is research assistant, Centre for Policy Alternatives, Delhi