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Correspondent

23 August 2024 at 4:29:04 pm

Nordic Narcissism

There is something uniquely comical about a tiny, insulated European Scandinavian country like Norway lecturing a rich civilisation like India on morality. The latest specimen comes from Helle Lyng, a purported journalist from an obscure Oslo-based daily Dagsavisen, who interrupted a tightly choreographed bilateral media interaction during Narendra Modi’s visit to Norway to shout about India’s allegedly dismal human rights record and low press freedom index. It was crude theatre masquerading...

Nordic Narcissism

There is something uniquely comical about a tiny, insulated European Scandinavian country like Norway lecturing a rich civilisation like India on morality. The latest specimen comes from Helle Lyng, a purported journalist from an obscure Oslo-based daily Dagsavisen, who interrupted a tightly choreographed bilateral media interaction during Narendra Modi’s visit to Norway to shout about India’s allegedly dismal human rights record and low press freedom index. It was crude theatre masquerading as journalism. The Indian and Norwegian Prime Ministers were not scheduled to take questions to begin with. Yet Lyng behaved less like a reporter seeking answers than an activist seeking virality. Within hours, India’s Opposition ecosystem and professional Modi-baiters within Indian media elevated Lyng into a democratic Joan of Arc. Her social-media footprint, dormant for months, burst into life. Whether coordinated or merely opportunistic, the spectacle had all the subtlety of a pre-packaged outrage campaign. Then, Aftenposten, Norway’s largest broadsheet, went one better with a crude illustration straight from the attic of colonial caricature when it rendered Modi as a snake charmer beneath the sneering caption, “A sneaky and slightly annoying man.” This is no satire but a stale racial cliché embalmed in Scandinavian self-righteousness. The affair revealed not just the shallowness of a section of Norwegian journalism, but also the extraordinary moral vanity of modern northern Europe. Norway is a country of 5.6 million people whose most enduring contribution to the political lexicon remains the surname of Vidkun Quisling, the traitor whose collaboration with Adolf Hitler during the Nazi occupation of Norway was so notorious that “quisling” entered the English language as shorthand for traitor and collaborator. Yet, contemporary Norway today floats about the world dispensing ethical report cards to postcolonial democracies infinitely more diverse and politically complicated than anything it has ever governed. Norway’s moral vanity would be easier to tolerate if its own recent history were not stained by horrors of its own. In 2011, right-wing racist Anders Behring Breivik murdered 77 people in one of Europe’s worst modern massacres. Norway, like every Western society, has grappled with extremism, racism and democratic tensions. Yet somehow these complexities never seem to invalidate its standing in the fashionable “freedom indices” endlessly weaponised against countries such as India. India, a deafeningly argumentative democracy of 1.4 billion people with thousands of newspapers, television channels and digital platforms attacking the government daily, is routinely portrayed as ‘authoritarian’ by opaque Western metrics. But countries inflicting chronic violence against journalists somehow fare better. This bizarre methodology reflects a closed loop of Western NGOs, advocacy networks and self-certifying liberal institutions validating one another’s prejudices. The real story was not Norway’s predictable condescension, but the speed with which sections of India’s own elite genuflected before it. The Scandinavian sneer found eager amplification from India’s own salon of professional Modi-baiters, whose instinctive reflex is to applaud any foreign sneer at India so long as it embarrasses the man they loathe.

Dangerous Departures

Updated: Oct 30, 2024

Dangerous Departures

In yet another shocking incident adding to Mumbai’s infamous tryst with stampedes, chaos erupted at Mumbai’s Bandra Terminus following a weekend stampede that left at least ten persons injured, two critically so. A crowd surged toward the Gorakhpur-bound train with nearly 1,500 people vying for seats in 22 unreserved compartments, leading to the stampede. Several others narrowly avoided tragedy, with some even pushed onto the tracks. This is not a unique episode but rather a recurring theme in Mumbai’s bedevilled crowd management, one that has haunted the city’s public spaces, particularly as festive seasons magnify the crowds.


Mumbai is no stranger to stampedes. A horrifying incident in 2017 at Elphinstone Road Station left 23 people dead and nearly 50 injured. The cause was a familiar one: an overwhelming crowd confined to a narrow footbridge during peak rush hour. The tragedy sparked an outcry, with promises from authorities to upgrade infrastructure and enhance safety protocols. Yet seven years on, crowd-related incidents continue to be a constant danger. Today’s incident reveals a similar lapse—a lack of foresight in managing the thousands who gather on platforms ahead of Diwali, eager to return to family. That the Gorakhpur Express was unreserved and heavily crowded was predictable.


The issue lies beyond simply crowd density; it is emblematic of deeper systemic negligence. The Brihanmumbai Municipal Corporation (BMC), responsible for local public safety, along with the Railways Ministry, bear responsibility for ensuring order at such high-risk hubs. Although the BMC acknowledged the “festive rush,” it appears little was done to pre-empt it. Swift action could have been taken to either disperse the crowd or reroute passengers. Instead, chaos prevailed.


Political reaction has been swift but uninspiring. Aaditya Thackeray, son of Uddhav Thackeray, launched a scathing attack on the Union Railways Minister, Ashwini Vaishnaw, branding the incident a result of the minister’s “incapable” leadership. This hardly addresses the immediate need: a substantive plan to manage crowds and prevent similar incidents.


Mumbai’s transport infrastructure remains sorely outdated. Platforms are undersized, signalling systems frequently falter, and crowd control mechanisms are grossly inadequate. Despite repeated accidents, there has been little investment in comprehensive crowd management systems or the deployment of personnel trained in emergency response. While railway footbridges were widened after the Elphinstone tragedy, Bandra’s incident demonstrates that such incremental changes are insufficient. Mumbai, which sees a swelling populace during festivals, demands a robust strategy to address its vulnerabilities. This should include technology-driven crowd monitoring, clear communication channels to inform passengers of platform conditions, and additional security and medical staff on high-demand days. It is essential that crowd management training for personnel becomes a priority rather than a reaction to tragedies.

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