Bhuj Notes

I visited Bhuj for the first time earlier this week. The first thing that struck me was the barren landscape, the hardy Mesquite trees, herds of goats and gaushalas – each a testament to a land shaped by sparse rainfall and arid conditions. (This Wire piece on the role of the mesquite in Kachchh is fascinating)

In the 17^th and 18^th centuries, the Jadejas of Kachchh, realizing that agriculture alone would never power their administration, diversified and invested heavily in building ports and promoting maritime trade. For the next two hundred years, it was the Kachchis who ran the show from the trading hubs of Oman, Zanzibar and the Indian west coast. Be it the booming pearl trade from the Middle East or the Zanzibarian ivory demand fueled by the piano craze of America, Kachchis had their imprint on all of it. Today, the coast is mainly dotted with fishing boats, industrial units and is also the home of the Mundra port. All through the journey, I was surrounded by heavy-duty vehicles, indicating a buzzing industrial belt. Apparently, excise sops in the aftermath of the 2001 Earthquake drove a mini-industrial boom in the region. (Chhaya Goswami’s ‘Globalization before Its Time: The Gujarati Merchants from Kachchh‘ is a scholarly take on the maritime legacy of the Kachchhi merchants. The book is a part of Penguin’s series on the history of Indian Business.)

Most of the development interventions in Kachchh are around Land Degradation, Fodder Management, Fisheries development, and Veterinary services. I got to learn first-hand about the Veterinary Emergency Response Units (VERU) of the Government of India – set up to tackle animal husbandry distress during disasters.

Now, onto the topic of disasters. During the 2001 Gujarat Earthquake, 11,000 deaths were documented in Kachchh alone. Bhuj was flattened and most of the city was rebuilt in the aftermath. The whole reconstruction programme made it a laboratory of sorts and even today, most of the movers and shakers of the Disaster Management sector in India cut their teeth during the Recovery programme of Kachchh.

The Smritivan Earthquake Museum is a state-of-the-art structure that was inaugurated to pay homage to the thousands who lost their lives in the tragedy. While the structure was impressive – a fort-like structure built on a hillock overlooking the city – the museum left me underwhelmed.

Museums that commemorate tragedies must be able to strike a fine balance between depicting the horrors of violence and destruction and imparting the lessons that must be learned from these events. The Partition Museum in Amritsar and the Armenian Genocide Museum in Yerevan are two that I can think of that manage this very well. Smritivan had galleries filled with rubble and figures of humans lying crushed underneath them. A screening showing Indian responders (enacted by actors) was poorly scripted and made it appear as though the professional practice of emergency rescue was unknown in India. Having seen India’s NDRF function in close quarters, this is a disservice to the skilled and professional force that we have built over the years.

One wonders how much of the built environment in Kachchh today can withstand an earthquake of a similar magnitude. Earthquakes are a real danger facing millions of Indians. Smriti Van should be a reminder of what needs to be done; at scale; on an urgent basis.