Note to readers: the following accounts contain stark, graphic descriptions of the immediate aftermath of the gas leak and its long term health impacts. Some names have been changed to protect the privacy and identity of the individuals concerned.
On 3rd December 1984 over half a million people in Bhopal, Madhya Pradesh, were exposed to highly toxic methyl isocyanate in one of the worst ever industrial disasters. Today, the former Union Carbide factory from which the poison gas escaped, stands abandoned and desolate. I arrived there on a dark and rainy morning at the tail end of the monsoon. I expected to find the site secured and protected by heavy security. I was wrong. The gates were open on one side of the low perimeter wall but the road behind was overgrown and a few stray dogs were the only sign of life.
In 2006 the Indian Government issued an affidavit stating that about 558,125 injuries including 3,900 of a severe and permanently disabling nature occurred on the night of the disaster. Estimates of the immediate death toll vary, but the official number is 2,259. Other sources claim 8000 deaths within two weeks of the leak and a further 8000 from gas-related diseases. The deaths were not the end of the story and today many survivors of that night still live with the memory of what happened
“It was like a scene from a movie"
Abdul has a small paan shop not far from the factory. He is quick to smile and has a steady flow of customers who come to spend a few rupees on paan or to stop and chat for a while. He is 50 and would have been just eight years old at the time of the disaster. His father once worked in the factory but not at the time of the accident. He has clear memories of that night and how his father’s quick thinking saved their family.
“In the middle of the night we started coughing and finding it hard to breathe. We went outside and the sky was very black. People were running in different directions. Some of them had covered themselves with wet blankets. Many were going towards the bus station and the railway station. I suppose they thought they could escape but the wind was blowing the gas in the same direction. Our father took us the opposite way.” (Note - the heroic efforts of the station staff to save passengers at Bhopal Junction that night are shown in the Netflix drama series The Railway Men).
Abdul paused for a moment and seemed to take a few deeper breaths before continuing: "We went home the next morning. There were many dead people and dead animals near the house. It was like a scene from a movie. People’s eyes were popping out. Their tongues were hanging out. There was urine and faeces everywhere.”
Mohamed, 55, was looking after a nearby shop while his friend, whose shop it is, had gone to buy chai. Gentle-mannered and quietly spoken, he too recounted his experiences of that night: “We lived about ten kilometres from the factory but we felt as if someone had squeezed tobacco into our eyes. We covered ourselves with wet blankets but still had trouble breathing. Our throats were burning. On the second day we saw corpses everywhere. The authorities began moving people away to camps that were set up on the outskirts of the city.”
“It gives me goosebumps to think about it."
Shiva has similar memories. I met this frail 71 year old as he sat outside a small Hindu temple. He said “Just after midnight we started to find it hard to breathe and our eyes were burning. Our Muslim neighbour came and we discussed the situation. He thought it was a small issue that would pass and said he was staying at home. I decided to take my family away but my eyesight was damaged and I can hardly see these days. The following day there were many dead bodies in the street. It gives me goosebumps to think about it.”
The three men’s stories bear striking resemblances and are borne out in published accounts of what happened - breathing difficulties, burning eyes, the use of wet blankets as a form of protection and the devastation they witnessed in the days immediately after. But 42 years later, the trauma and the anger still linger on. Abdul said: “Since that night, I have had respiratory problems and I have very little energy. My mother died from cancer. We received 50,000 rupees compensation from the Government. We were angry that Arjun Singh helped the American, Anderson, escape justice.”
Arjun Singh was the Chief Minister of Madhya Pradesh from 1980 to 1985 and Warren Anderson, the CEO of Union Carbide. Anderson flew to Bhopal on December 7th 1984, was immediately arrested and charged with culpable homicide. Singh authorised his release and had him flown out of the city, later claiming he had done so under pressure from Central Government.
In a lane not far from where I met Shiva, a man who wore a mask over the lower part of his face. Amit, aged 48, runs a tiny general store. He spoke about how the legacy of the disaster continues to affect his family: “I was six years old at the time of the accident. We lived here and didn’t want to leave, so we covered ourselves in blankets. Both of my parents have been sick since that time and I have cancer of the face.” When he finished speaking he removed the mask to reveal that a whole section of the lower side of his face had been eaten away by cancer, before adding: "We received 50,000 rupees in compensation."
We want to live
In 1984, 50,000 rupees equated to between $4000 and $4400. At the time several bodies, including Amnesty International, criticised this as insufficient to cover lifelong medical costs, lost livelihoods and other likely expenses. Funding for the payouts came from a sum of $470 million paid by Union Carbide as part of an out-of-court agreement with the then Indian Government. This came in 1989, five years after the disaster, while payouts did not begin until 1992. The agreement precluded any civil claims being brought by individuals. The sum of $470 million was based on an under-estimation of the number of deaths and injuries.
There is a small memorial opposite the factory site, a few hundred metres from Abdul’s shop. It is the work of sculptors Sanjay Mitra and Ruth Waterman. Mitra is Indian, Waterman Dutch and a Holocaust survivor. It is surrounded by a metal fence and depicts a wailing mother holding an infant, symbolising loss and the continuing impact of the catastrophe. The mother and child face away from the road, their backs to the abandoned factory. It bears the inscription:
No Hiroshima, no Bhopal, we want to live. Memorial dedicated to the victims of the gas disaster caused by the multinational killer Union Carbide on 2&3 December 1984.
Further reading
For those wanting to better understand the events of 3rd December 1984, as well as the context and aftermath, a detailed account can be found in Dominique Lapierre and Javier Moro’s book Five Past Midnight In Bhopal. However, it should be noted that the book was published in 1997 with an English edition in 2001, so later developments are not covered.
