"By this time the gas had started seeping through from under the door. I got really scared and out of fear I opened the door. Outside everyone was running, screaming, nothing could be seen - the thick fog hung everywhere. It was clear that we were being poisoned."
"I saw lots of people running, screaming for help, vomiting, falling down, unconscious. I had a miscarriage there in the middle of the street, my body was covered with blood."
An entire city gassed with deadly chemicals. Tens of thousands dead, according to Amnesty International. Half a million poisoned. But this apocalypse was no accident - it was designed by one of America's most powerful corporations. Join me below the flip for more about Bhopal - a disaster which remains one of the most visceral examples of the cruelty of corporations towards humanity.
This diary is the second in a series on Bhopal, which will eventually cover the world's worst-ever industrial disaster in more detail. I'll be writing these semi-regularly over the next two weeks. Although yesterday's diary discussed THAT NIGHT itself, this one will focus on the decisions which created it - a crime of unspeakable terror.
By the way, if you're wondering "Why Bhopal, why now?" there's a simple reason. Several dozen Bhopal survivors - sick and destitute though they are - are in the midst of a 5-week, 500-mile march to New Delhi. When they reach they intend to present their demands for justice and a life of dignity to the Prime Minister of India - simple requests such as unpoisoned water that many of us take for granted. You can support them right now by sending a FREE FAX to the Prime Minister of India or by contacting your members of Congress. You can also see photos and read the daily blog from the march here.
Bhopal is not only a disaster, but a corporate crime. The catastrophe was both foreseeable and foreseen, and when it occurred none of the plant's six safety systems were functional because Carbide cut corners on safety and maintenance in order to save money.
It began as a classic instance of corporate double-standards: Union Carbide was obliged to install state-of-the-art technology in Bhopal, but instead used "unproven" and "untested" technology of a lower grade than that used in its US 'sister-plant' (in Institute, West Virginia). The motive was not simply profit, but also control: the company saved $8 million, and through this deliberate under-investment managed to retain a majority share of its Indian subsidiary, Union Carbide India Limited.
From the start of its operations the plant was plagued with accidents and near-misses. On December 25, 1981, a leak of phosgene killed one worker, Ashraf Khan, at the plant and severely injured two others. On January 9, 1982, twenty five workers were hospitalized as a result of another leak at the plant. During the "safety week" proposed by management to address worker grievances about the Bhopal facility, repeated incidents of such toxic leakage took place and workers took the opportunity to complain directly to the American management officials present. Yet another leak on October 5, 1982 affected hundreds of nearby residents requiring hospitalization of large numbers of people residing in the communities surrounding the plant. After the release - which included quantities of MIC, hydrochloric acid and chloroform - the worker's union printed hundreds of posters which they distributed throughout the community, warning:
* "Beware of Fatal Accidents"
* "Lives of thousands of workers and citizens in danger because of poisonous gas"
* "Spurt of accidents in the factory, safety measures deficient."
Starting in 1982, a local journalist named Rajkumar Keswani frantically tried to warn people of the dangers posed by the Carbide plant. In September of 1982, he wrote an article entitled "Please Save this City." Other articles, written later, bore grimly prophetic titles such as "Bhopal Sitting on Top of a Volcano" and "If You Do Not Understand This You Will Be Wiped Out." Just five months before the tragedy, he wrote his final article: "Bhopal on the Brink of a Disaster."
In the midst of this clamour, in May 1982, Union Carbide sent a team of U.S. experts to inspect the Bhopal plant as part of its periodic safety audits. This report, which was forwarded to Union Carbide's management in the United States, speaks unequivocally of a "potential for the release of toxic materials" and a consequent "runaway reaction" due to "equipment failure, operating problems, or maintenance problems." In its report, the safety audit team noted a total of 61 hazards, 30 of them major and 11 in the dangerous phosgene/MIC units. Though the report was available to senior U.S. officials of the company, nothing was done.
In fact, according to Carbide's internal documents, a major cost-cutting effort (including a reduction of 335 men) was undertaken in 1983, saving the company $1.25 million that year. Between 1983 and 1984, the safety manuals were re-written to permit switching off the refrigeration unit and shutting down the vent gas scrubber when the plant was not in operation. Cost-cutting measures directed by the Danbury Headquarters of Union Carbide included reducing the MIC plant crew from 12 to 6. In the control room, there was only 1 operator to monitor 70+ panels. Safety training was cut from 6 months to 15 days. On the night of the deadly MIC leak, none of the safety systems designed to prevent a leak - six in all - were operational, and the plant siren had been turned off.
Sabotage?
Immediately after the disaster, Union Carbide launched an aggressive effort to obscure the cause, paying for the only study ever to conclude that sabotage was responsible. Although this study has never been entered into evidence in a court of law - its scientific value is dubious - Dow and Carbide cite it shamelessly in their public relations and comments to the media.
Every investigation and analysis not paid for by Carbide concluded causes other than sabotage. The process safety system trumpeted by Carbide included a design modification installed in May 1984 on the say-so of US engineers. This `jumper line', a cheap solution to a maintenance problem, connected a relief valve header to a pressure vent header and enabled water from a routine washing operation to pass between the two, on through a pressure valve, and into MIC storage tank 610. Carbide's initial investigation agreed that the pressure valve was leaking but declined to mention the jumper line. Exposure to this water led to an uncontrolled reaction; a deadly cloud of MIC, hydrogen cyanide, mono methyl amine soon settled over much of Bhopal, and people began to die.
Most damningly of all, although Carbide claims it is certain of the identity of the saboteur "responsible" for the death of 22,000 people, they've never publicly revealed his identity. In fact, they've been particularly careful to avoid doing so because it would invite a libel suit in which the theory and the facts of the disaster would be open to scrutiny.
To learn more or do more, visit Students for Bhopal and Bhopal.net.