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Julio Ribeiro
IN October 1984, I was attending the Senior Police Officers’ Conference in Pune when news of Mrs Gandhi’s assassination was communicated to us. The Chief Minister, who was presiding, ordered us to return immediately to our own headquarters and ensure that the peace was not disturbed.
I drove straight to the Pune Police Commissioner’s Control Room and talked to my own Control Room in Mumbai. I dictated my order to all police stations and officers in the city, to be conveyed in writing and by wireless, that all areas where Sikhs stayed, like Wadala, Sion and Vikhroli and places like Lamington Road where their businesses were concentrated, should be heavily guarded. If there was any attempt to assault any Sikhs or set fire to their shops or other property, the police should not hesitate to fire at the miscreants.
The exact wording of my order to the police was promptly transmitted to the Shiv Sena Pramukh, Balasaheb Thackeray, by his admirers within the police establishment. Bal Thackeray phoned me to find out whether the Commissioner had the authority to issue such an order!
In reply, I emphasised that the defining word in my order was a two-letter word: “if”. The police would not use their weapons “if” there was no attempt to kill Sikhs or destroy their property. The Shiv Sena chief was not amused but he got my message alright. We were singularly free of any violence in Mumbai city!
I had another run-in with the Shiv Sena leader earlier. I knew of the soft corners some of my Station House Officers had for the Sena. I warned these officers by asking them via the daily ‘Police Notice’ issued by my office, “Who is in charge of the streets of the city — the police or the Shiv Sena?” This was communicated to the supremo by his admirers in my force. Bal Thackeray wasted no time to phone me to remonstrate and I, in turn, did not hesitate to emphasise the duty of the State, as represented by the police on the streets of the city, as the law enforcers.
Even earlier, when I was a Deputy Commissioner in charge of the zone where Shivaji Park was located, our Intelligence Chief, who was my own batchmate in the IPS, learnt that the Sena was to attack a public meeting to be addressed by the fiery labour leader, George Fernandes. When the intelligence was shared with the Chief Minister, the latter said the police need not interfere! Of course I ignored the wish of the Chief Minister and ensured that no disturbance occurred. But the unstated understanding between the Congress head in Maharashtra and the Sena to destroy the Left leadership was revealed to the police brass.
Since I wrote in my previous column that I had voted for his grandson in the recent state elections, I felt it appropriate to relate my own parleys with a political personality of the time who, like Bhindranwale was set up by Congress political planners in Punjab, was similarly encouraged by the Congress Chief Minister in Mumbai to tame the Communists who dominated the labour unions. As in Punjab, the experiment boomeranged. Bal Thackeray and his Shiv Sena (the army of Shivaji) became first a headache to the authorities and later a political force that could not be ignored.
Personally, I kept ‘correct’ relations with the Senior Thackeray and he, in turn, treated me with respect. When I was presiding over the opening of a new police station in the vicinity of his residence, he arrived at the venue with some followers, and spoke kindly about my relationship with politicians of all hues! He admitted his disagreements with me, but also admired the fact that I dealt with his political opponents, including those in power, exactly as I dealt with him.
His son does not preach fire and brimstone like the Senior Thackeray. His grandson is even more moderate and modern. Their politics has moved away from the fascist tendencies demonstrated by the older man, who had adopted them from his reading of Mein Kampf.
When communal riots rocked Mumbai in 1984 during my tenure as Police Commissioner, I advocated keeping the Shiv Sena supremo out of jail. His arrest would spark off a conflagration. I arrested his ‘Shakha Pramukhs’, the 50-odd ‘capos’ without whom Balasaheb would be rendered powerless. This is what happened. The old man fell on his knees imploring the Chief Minister to release his men. The Chief Minister was inclined to make a political concession, but the Chief Secretary, Ram Pradhan, and I resisted till such time as our message was well and truly digested!