There’s no evidence that Rohingyas or Bangladeshi immigrants have any more criminal tendencies than the rest of us,” Mrs Raghavan said
On a rainy evening late in May, Raghavan and his wife arrived on an unannounced visit. “I’m sorry,” he said at the doorstep. “I forgot to check if this was ok with you.”
Visitors offer welcome change in a quiet life bounded by the dog, the beach, and learning to cook, so I opened a bottle of Scotch while Prita busied herself with snacks. Fifteen minutes later, we were all warm and cozy in the drawing room with the rain drumming on the window panes. But matters didn’t stay as peaceful as this might suggest. The Raghavans were soon in the midst of an argument.
It started innocently when Prita talked of the difficulty we had getting a plumber to replace a shower fitting in the bathroom. “He turned up three days after the promised he would,” she said, “and took three times the time to fix it, and charged six times as much as we expected! I don’t see how people talk of unemployment when it’s so difficult to get workmen!”
“There are jobs no one is willing to do,” said Mrs Raghavan. “I think we should find a way to get Bangladeshi immigrants to do some of these things. That way, we all benefit, and I’m sure it’s easier than trying to throw them all out.”
“We can’t allow that!” said Raghavan. “It’s perfectly fine for people to come over to India legally and establish their homes here, but these people just walked across the border, and many of them have been committing crimes after coming here. Look at the Rohingyas! Besides, their national loyalties are suspect!”
“There’s no evidence that Rohingyas or Bangladeshi immigrants have any more criminal tendencies than the rest of us,” Mrs Raghavan said. “And we don’t know about loyalties.”
“Just sneaking into the country is a crime,” said Raghavan. “They’re here without legal sanction.”
“Look,” said Mrs Raghavan, “They came here because they were in bad shape back home: no work, no shelter, and children to feed. I don’t think you can impose that kind of restriction on people that poor. Besides, some of them have been here for generations.”
“Yes,” said Raghavan. “The immigration started long ago, when there was a communist government in West Bengal, and we had less than half the population we have now. Also before all the Hindu-Muslim troubles that we have now gained momentum. But matters have changed since then. Our population has increased, and our demography changed.”
“Do you mean there are more Muslims now?” asked Mrs Raghavan. “So we should send back only Muslims?”
“Perhaps,” said Raghavan. “We know what’s been happening to non-Muslims in Bangladesh after Sheikh Hasina was ousted.”
“So what?” asked Mrs Raghavan. “We should be consistent, even if others aren’t.”
“So are you willing to condemn non-Muslim Bangladeshis to death?” asked Raghavan.
“You’re willing to condemn all these immigrants to a slow death by starvation, aren’t you?” asked Mrs Raghavan. “From what you say, several millions of them. Besides, you’ve stopped visas to Bangladeshis seeking treatment...”
The doorbell rang, and I found Murthy on the doorstep: his sixth sense for my scotch was working well. “Raghavan and his wife are here,” I told him. “Come on in.”
I poured Murthy his drink while the others got him abreast about our conversation so far. “What do you think?” I asked.
He took a long, slow sip before he answered. “The fundamental problem is that we don’t know,” he said. “If we know how many immigrants there are and how many of them commit crimes and how many of them are productive people and how many have divided loyalties, we’d be able to work out a workable policy to deal with them. But we don’t.”
“Exactly!” said Mrs Raghavan. “We shouldn’t condemn a whole lot of people just because we suspect that a few of them might be, well, traitor or criminals.”
“There’s a history,” Murthy said. “While Sheikh Hasina was in power, we had an unwritten agreement. She’d keep non-Muslims safe, and we wouldn’t worry too much about Bangladeshis sneaking across. That agreement’s gone now. But then, state governments in Bengal have always encouraged immigration because they get those immigrant votes. I remember, a couple of decades ago, Mamata Bannerjee, as part of the Central government, had a meltdown in Parliament against these immigrants. But now she’s Chief Minister of Bengal, and she depends on them.”
“So what?” asked Raghavan.
“So we should first take care of the corrupt among us,” said Murthy, “the people – politicians, bureacrats, and agents – who enable illegal immigrants to settle down here. Otherwise, once the crackdown is over, they’ll just come back. If they survive...”
“What do you mean, if they survive?” asked Mrs Raghavan.
“Non-Muslims probably won’t,” replied Murthy.
“How can you say that?” asked Mrs Raghavan.
“Because non-Muslims in Bangladesh have now become the target of Islamists,” replied Murthy. “Most emigrant Bangladeshi non-Muslims forced to return home won’t do well.”
“Yes,” said Mrs Raghavan, “but why don’t non-Muslims come legally if they know they’re going to be targets?”
“Uprooting yourself and your family like that is a big decision,” Murthy replied. “Getting a fair price for your property is impossible if people get to know that you’re leaving, and you can’t keep that kind of decision a secret. Then there’s the uncertainty of getting legal clearance to move to India: We know about hundreds of Pakistani Hindus who’ve been kept in limbo for a long time. So they hesitate.”
“But how can you justify a policy decision on the basis of religion?” asked Mrs Murthy.
Murthy looked her in the eye. “Because corruption has no religion,” he replied.
