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By PHILIP GAILEY
© St. Petersburg Times, published February 4, 2001
NEW DELHI -- The hammer of God, as earthquakes are called here, came down on the prosperous state of Gujarat in southern India with devastating force, 7.9 on the Richter scale, equivalent in energy to a 5.3-megaton hydrogen bomb. The confirmed death toll climbed within days to more than 11,000, before rescue operations ended, and the government predicted that the ultimate cost in human life could be three or four times that number when all the rubble is cleared. The United States, which has to cope with hurricanes, earthquakes and flooding, has never known a calamity of this magnitude. We measure the damage of our natural disasters more in property losses than in human life. We are more traumatized as a nation by acts of madness and terror, as in the Oklahoma City bombing and the Columbine high school massacre, than by anything nature inflicts.
As the horror unfolded on television and in Indian newspapers, I found myself wondering how I would feel if this story were being written in California, instead of some remote region of India that most Americans have never heard of. Can you imagine 400 schoolchildren being killed if an earthquake hit Pasadena, Calif., at the height of the Rose Bowl Parade? Yet, that is what happened in the town of Bhuj, where 390 schoolchildren and 50 teachers were buried alive in a narrow street when the buildings all around collapsed on them while they marched in a Republic Day parade celebrating the 51st anniversary of India's independence from British rule.
The tremors of this earthquake, the most powerful in half a century, were felt hundreds of miles away, including here in the capital city, where the beds in my hotel vibrated. It was a disaster that only added to the human misery that already exists on a massive scale in India, which celebrated the 51st anniversary of its independence from British rule with an ostentatious display of military might that, except for the bare hands of military personnel, was of no use in coping with the earthquake's aftermath.
The millions of spectators who gathered in New Delhi to watch the Republic Day parade on Jan. 26 had not yet heard the news from Gujarat. The contradictions of modern India were on full display to massive crowds that included the poorest of the poor. Military helicopters opened the parade by showering spectators with flower petals. Then came the tanks, armored personnel carriers, missiles that carry India's nuclear warheads and other weapons that are a source of national pride in a nation that was liberated by the moral force of Mahatma Gandhi's campaign of non-violence. The Republic Day parade reminded one of the May Day display of Soviet military muscle staged in Red Square during the Cold War, except for one thing. After the military displays came floats celebrating India's growing high-tech sector and its cultural heritage, a remarkable mix of ethnic and religious flavors.
Five days is not enough time to form definitive opinions of India, an immensely complex country, but vivid images of the poverty and human misery that I saw here are forever etched in my mind. They hit you in the face. On the drive from Indira Gandhi International Airport into the city, I saw malnourished mothers and small children hovering under makeshift canvas tents along the side of the road, sleeping on the bare ground and scavenging for food. In the United States, I have seen the faces of the homeless huddled under overpasses and of the poor and destitute in urban ghettoes and rural shacks. But the tableau of American poverty does not prepare one for deprivation I saw here. My Indian hosts told me New Delhi is not the worst of it. The poverty is even more pronounced in Calcutta's slums and in other cities in the South.
The amazing thing about India's democracy is how it has managed to keep the lid on a volatile stew of ethnic strife, religious tensions and massive poverty. The government officially recognizes 18 languages, including Hindi and English, but more than a hundred different languages and dialects are spoken in this country. Although 83 percent of India's population is Hindu, it also is home to more than 120-million Muslims -- one of the world's largest Muslim populations. There also are Christians, Sikhs, Jains, Buddhists and Parsis.
India, with a population of more than 1-billion people (second to China), is proud to call itself the world's largest democracy. It has free elections, a free press and a constitution. It has the world's third-largest military machine and one of the world's largest economies. The growth of its information-technology sector is dramatic, and among its exports is a steady supply of software engineers to the United States. But democracy and a growing economy have not broken the country's caste system or made much headway against widespread disease, illiteracy and poverty.
The future holds little promise of progress on these fronts. The government seems to be in denial about the threat of AIDS, which world health experts say is a ticking time bomb. India's environmental degradation continues -- deforestation, soil erosion, water and air pollution -- as its huge population strains its natural resources.
The threat of disaster in this region comes not only from the forces of nature but from the folly of man. As terrible as the earthquake was, a more chilling scenario is the potential for a fatal miscalculation by India or Pakistan in their long-running war over the disputed territory of Kashmir. The outside world paid little attention until 1998, when both India and Pakistan tested atomic bombs. Now two old enemies have nukes, and enough hatred between them to do something foolish, something too terrifying to even think about.