REMEMBERING ZAKIA JAFRI
Dr Suresh Khairnar
Zakia Jafri, aged 87, passed away on February 1, 2025. Until her final breath, however, justice eluded her. Zakia Jafri lived in Gulberg Society in the Chamanpura area of central Ahmedabad. The horrific massacre that took place there on February 28, 2002, was not the handiwork of a few agitated individuals. The scale and nature of the violence strongly suggest the involvement—or at least the acquiescence—of powerful forces.
This suspicion arises because the police commissioner and local police officials, despite being informed minute by minute about the unfolding violence at Gulberg Society—across all levels of the Ahmedabad police and administration—personally visited the site and assured Ehsan Jafri of protection. Yet the barbaric massacre still occurred. A year has now passed since Zakia Jafri left this world without receiving justice. As a citizen of this country, I feel deep shame. Marking one full year since her death without justice causes profound pain.
In the Chamanpura locality of central Ahmedabad stood Gulberg Society. On the very first day of the Gujarat riots following the Godhra incident—on the morning of February 28, 2002—from 7:30 a.m. to 4:30 p.m., a mob of 20,000 to 25,000 people surrounded the Chamanpura mohalla. This fact was recorded in an FIR by Senior Inspector Shri G. Irda at Meghani Nagar Police Station. From early morning onwards, rioters indulged in large-scale vandalism and arson.
During this period, around 10:30 a.m., Ahmedabad Police Commissioner Shri P.C. Pandey visited Gulberg Society and met Zakia Jafri’s husband, former MP Shri Ehsan Jafri, assuring him of security. At that time, more than 70 people from neighbouring areas—including women and children—had taken shelter inside Gulberg Society to save their lives.
Despite these assurances, at 10:35 a.m., a nearby bakery—Zaheer Bakery—and an auto-rickshaw were set on fire. Between 11:15 and 11:30 a.m., barely an hour after the police commissioner left, stone-pelting began on Gulberg Society. From 12:15 to 12:45 p.m., large stones were hurled from the rooftops of neighbouring non-Muslim houses. Around 1:15 p.m., acid bulbs and cloth balls soaked in inflammable material were thrown into the society along with stones. In this chaos, a man named Yusuf was caught and burnt alive.
Between 2:30 and 2:45 p.m., amid slogans of “Ghusi jao” (Enter!), rioters breached the gate facing the railway line. A man named Anwar was dragged out from the adjacent Sansar Bakery, his body dismembered and set on fire.
Around 3:30 p.m., Ehsan Jafri was dragged out, stripped naked, and brutally beaten. A procession was taken out with him, forcing him to chant “Vande Mataram” and “Jai Shri Ram” for nearly 45 minutes. First his fingers were cut off, then his hands and legs severed, and finally his throat was slit before his body was thrown into the fire. Along with him, his three brothers, two nephews, and Munawwar Sheikh—who had also taken shelter in the society—were similarly mutilated and burnt. Between 3:30 and 4:30 p.m., 10–12 women were raped, their bodies later dismembered and thrown into the fire.
Only around 4:30 to 5:00 p.m. did the police arrive and attempt rescues amid stone-pelting, which continued until about 7:00 p.m.
If any self-proclaimed Hindutvavadi feels pride in such brutality, or if someone’s so-called 44-inch chest swells to 56 inches because of it, there is nothing to say except that such a person is deeply perverted or mentally disturbed, deriving pleasure from sadism. Yet politics driven by Hindutva has dominated this country for 75 years since independence—and appears set to continue even into the so-called “Amrit Kaal” of the next 25 years. To me, this era appears not as nectar but as poison.
Instead of addressing the everyday problems of the people, politics has been reduced to a constant Hindu–Muslim binary. In a country of 145 crore people, with nearly 40 crore Muslims and other minorities—and with Khalistan slogans again being raised in Punjab—what moral authority do we have to condemn such movements? This is a chain reaction. Those who practise politics in the name of religion have no moral right to tell others not to do the same. That is precisely why the framers of our Constitution insisted that religion remain a personal matter, confined to private life. Once religion is dragged onto the streets for political gain, how can one stop others from doing likewise?
In the Gulberg Society massacre, 10–12 gas cylinders were used to burn the buildings. Commissioner P.C. Pandey, who had assured Ehsan Jafri of security at 10:30 a.m., later claimed, “What could we do? We did not have sufficient police force.” But when police officers knew for 8–10 hours that people were fighting for their lives and that a massive mob was present, why was additional force not deployed? Was there a deliberate decision from higher authorities to allow the massacre to occur? This was not a remote village—it was central Ahmedabad.
Ehsan Jafri was a former Congress MP. From the police commissioner to the chief minister, and even Congress President Sonia Gandhi, repeated phone calls were made—especially to Gujarat Chief Minister Narendra Modi—pleading for protection for Jafri and the more than 70 people sheltering with him. Yet more than 70 men, women, and children were brutally killed.
From 7:30 a.m. to nearly 8:45 p.m., over 12 hours, more than 70 people—ranging from a former MP to small children—were burnt alive in central Ahmedabad. A neighbour, Manoj Kumar, stated that the rapes and subsequent burning of women continued until 7:00 p.m. The FIR was finally lodged at 8:45 p.m.
That a mob of 20,000–25,000 people, witnessed by the police commissioner himself at 10:30 a.m., could continue unchecked for hours proves this was no spontaneous riot. It was a deliberate abdication of responsibility by the police and administration. From the Nanavati Commission to the SIT, and finally even the Supreme Court—justice was denied. Instead, courageous officers like former Gujarat DGP R.B. Sreekumar and activist Teesta Setalvad were jailed for exposing the truth. Where, then, can victims of atrocities in this country go for justice?
On February 27, 2002, 59 people were burnt alive in Godhra. In the name of revenge, how many more lives were deemed expendable? Even before visiting Godhra, Narendra Modi appeared on Doordarshan, alleging a conspiracy by Muslims and Pakistan, declaring that the perpetrators would be taught a lesson they would never forget.
Former DGP K. Chakravarti stated that Modi later told senior officers that there would be no equal treatment between Hindus and Muslims and that Hindus should be allowed to express their anger freely. None of the senior officials present objected. Chakravarti further said that half-burnt bodies from Godhra were paraded through Ahmedabad—an act that clearly inflamed passions. Yet neither the Nanavati Commission, the SIT, nor the Supreme Court took serious note of this.
Lieutenant General Zameeruddin Shah revealed that 3,000 Army personnel flown into Ahmedabad on February 28 were confined to the airport for 24 hours. Was this delay necessary for peace? Again, no inquiry took note.
R.B. Sreekumar submitted nine affidavits raising these issues, all ignored. He later said the outcome had been decided in advance.
Finally, in Zakia Jafri’s case, the Supreme Court took the unprecedented step of imprisoning those who sought justice. As a result, serious questions are now being raised globally about the credibility of India’s constitutional institutions.
Today, Narendra Modi speaks of affection for Pasmanda Muslims. Were Ehsan Jafri, Kausarbi, Malika Sheikh, and the over 2,000 victims of the Gujarat riots not Pasmanda? Amid unemployment, inflation, and unfulfilled promises, such rhetoric rings hollow. Lynching, hate crimes, and violence against Muslims continue unabated. Is this what “affection” means?
If genuine transformation is possible—as Valmiki transformed from dacoit to sage—it would be welcome. But given Modi’s political journey over the past 25 years, such claims are hard to believe. Even today, there has been no apology for the Gujarat riots.