Sukumar Shinde, 52, who sells food items and snacks in rural fairs, said, “Because of the lockdown, I had to throw away several food items as they have a shorter shelf life.” / credit: Sanket Jain
Balu Jadhav usually journeys through 60 villages 300 days a year, selling toys and artificial jewelry in India’s “jatras,” or rural village fairs.
So if Jadhav travels less than 1,000 miles a year, that’s a sign of distress.
“In the past two years, I covered only 150 miles,” he said.
His two-decade-long routine was broken in March 2020 when far-right Indian Prime Minister Narendra Modi announced a 21-day nationwide lockdown to curb a pandemic caused by COVID-19, the novel coronavirus. The lockdown was extended to 67 days, causing 121 million people to lose their jobs within the first month. Yet, with this lockdown, India couldn’t contain the coronavirus. Meanwhile, because case numbers ebbed and flowed for two years, district administrators banned fairs.
With a history of over 150 years, these fairs remain an important source of income for marginalized people. In Jadhav’s home state of Maharashtra, located on India’s Arabian Sea coast, almost every village hosts an annual fair for a couple of days. Jatras are held in reverence of local deities. Rural vendors sell a variety of items, including toys, posters of regional deities, local books, footwear, artificial jewelry, balloons and household items. “A fair is like a festival and a holiday season for rural people,” said Gangabai, Jadhav’s wife. “Everyone prepares good food, dresses up and relatives from different villages attend the fair.”
With no option for selling goods, the Jadhavs were forced to work in 10 other occupations. They labored as farmworkers and masons, and in factories, but nothing helped them earn enough to survive. “There was no regular work because COVID devastated the rural economy,” she said.
The 2022 World Inequality Report states India is one of the most unequal countries in the world. Oxfam’s Inequality Kills report mentions, “The wealth of the 10 richest men has doubled, while the incomes of 99 percent of humanity are worse off, because of COVID-19.” Further, it found that a new billionaire was created every 26 hours since the pandemic began. Meanwhile, millions like Jadhav could barely find 26 hours of work per month during the peak of the pandemic.
After two years, local administrators in the village of Jambhali in Maharashtra’s Kolhapur district were permitted to arrange a fair that would be held January 1-2. Unfortunately, while the Jadhavs assumed it would help them sail, it was far from reality.
With rising coronavirus cases in January, reporting as high as 347,254 cases one day, several COVID restrictions were implemented again.
“We earned about 3,000 rupees ($40) from every fair before the pandemic. Now we are finding it difficult even to recover the transportation cost,” Balu Jadhav said. “Ever since COVID, people have stopped spending money because of dwindling wages.”
Hundreds of vendors in the Kolhapur district protested several times outside the local administrator’s office, demanding revocation of the ban on fairs. “Despite writing hundreds of letters, nothing concretized,” Jadhav said.
Anusuya Chavan, who lives in the same village as the Jadhav family, is in her mid-40s and sells toys. “This occupation forced us to never send the children to school, and with COVID, there’s no possibility that four of my children will ever see the school.” Her children, all below 18, are busy looking for work. “Earlier, we took loans to support our business, but now we are forced to take loans for eating food twice a day. It’s that bad.” Chavan has 13 members in her joint family and is in $670 debt. Her husband, Yuvraj, 50, has spent four decades traveling to sell at fairs. “My entire life has gone sleeping on roads,” he said. “But with lockdowns and curfews, we don’t even have roads on which to sleep.”
Vendors rely on informal loans to buy items to sell and pay them off immediately after fairs. “The moneylenders send their goons for collection, and we always pay on time,” Yuvraj said. However, with no sales, several vendors have been caught in debts of at least $3,350 each. High interest-rate fees have caused those debts to amass.
Meanwhile, fear, anger and frustration pile up, with another generation missing out on obtaining an education. That leaves Jadhav to vent.
“Even our children will have to live the same cursed life now.”
A view of the Jambhali fair at night. Vendors said they had never before seen such a low turnout / credit: Sanket JainVendors sell a variety of items, including toys, posters of regional deities, local books, footwear, artificial jewelry, balloons, household items, and much more in India’s rural fairs / credit: Sanket Jain“I’ve taken both the doses of the vaccine and even follow COVID norms, yet the government hasn’t given permission for fairs,” said toyseller Yuvraj Chavan / credit: Sanket JainKanthinath Ghotane traveled from the neighboring Indian state of Karnataka state to sell keychains in the Jambhali fair of Maharashtra’s Kolhapur district / credit: Sanket JainFairs are more like festivals, and are special occasions for rural people. During these fairs, every household creates in front of their homes rangolis, a traditional Indian art form, in which patterns are created on the floor using powder, flower petals, colors, colored sand and limestone / credit: Sanket JainEveryone (irrespective of religion) first offers coconut and incense sticks in Jambhali’s Khwajaso dargah, a Muslim shrine, before entering the jatra. “These fairs are a sign of communal harmony,” said Sikandar Attar, a coconut and incense stick vendor / credit: Sanket JainSikandar Attar, 69, who travels to more than 100 villages every year, sells incense sticks and coconuts offered to regional deities. He began working at farms during the COVID-19 lockdown. Even today, he hasn’t been able to find his way through to make ends meet / credit: Sanket JainCredit: Sanket JainColorful LED-based toys are selling at a higher rate than other items / credit: Sanket JainRiyaz Latkar, 32, has been selling artificial jewelry for over a decade and said he has never seen a crisis like this / credit: Sanket JainDuring these two- to three-day fairs, vendors sleep and cook on the roadside. Kamalaxmi Bahurupi said, “I’ve spent my entire life cooking food on roadsides. I don’t know how long we will live like this.” / credit: Sanket JainArtificial jewelry is usually in high demand in the village fairs of Maharashtra. However, with people losing their livelihoods because of the pandemic lockdown, vendors have reported a steep decline in sales / credit: Sanket JainIn this stall, every item is sold for a fixed rate of Rs 10 (13 U.S. cents) / credit: Sanket JainBalu and Gangabai Jadhav were forced to work 10 different occupations as the fairs remained banned. “If there’s another lockdown, we’ll all die of starvation,” Balu said / credit: Sanket JainAs much as 70 percent of rural India lacks an internet connection. With schools shut because of the coronavirus pandemic, several children have been forced to pick this line of work to make ends meet and support their families / credit: Sanket JainHorse and bullock cart races remain a major attraction during these fairs. Here, a horse is getting ready for a race / credit: Sanket JainCredit: Sanket Jain
Sanket Jain is an independent journalist based in the Kolhapur district of the western Indian state of Maharashtra. He was a 2019 People’s Archive of Rural India fellow, for which he documented vanishing art forms in the Indian countryside. He has written for Baffler, Progressive Magazine, Counterpunch, Byline Times, The National, Popula, Media Co-op, Indian Express and several other publications.
“The very thought of him having to plead to jail authorities regarding a basic service like clean water to wash his swelled eye still gives me anxiety attacks,” says Jenny Rowena, wife of Hany Babu.
Babu, a 55-year-old Delhi University professor, is among many political prisoners who have been detained after having been charged under a draconian Indian law, the Unlawful Activities Prevention Act (UAPA). His family released a statement to the press that mentions Babu’s severe eye infection, which could damage his vital organs.
Only after Babu’s family’s repeated appeals did the court allow him to get proper medical treatment and tests at a private hospital, the expenses of which his family will bear.
This is a glimpse into the conditions the Indian state machinery forces people to endure as it goes about filling overcrowded prisons, in violation of basic civil and legal rights, as the pandemic ridden situation further deteriorates. The situation has worsened because of the ruling Bharatiya Janata Party (BJP)’s use of a 54-year-old draconian law.
India’s National Investigation Agency (NIA) had arrested Babu in a case referred to as the “Bhima Koregaon case.” Bhima Koregaon is a village in the western Indian state of Maharashtra. The NIA alleged several activists gave incendiary speeches, causing clashes to erupt January 1, 2018, between Dalits and Hindu right-wing groups.
Many other activists and academics, including Anand Teltumbde, Sudha Bhardwaj, Father Stan Swamy, Gautam Navlakha and others—most of whom are 50 or older—were arrested in the same case and continue to languish in jail. They have been denied proper medical treatment, even as they suffer ailments.
Father Stan Swamy
For example, Father Stan Swamy, 84, a tribal-rights activist, has Parkinson’s Disease. He told the court during a May 21 hearing that during the past eight months he has been detained, his health condition has worsened.
“When I came here, I could eat, read, take a bath by myself,” Swamy testified. “Now I have to depend on others even to feed me.”
The family of Sudha Bhardwaj, a 60-year-old lawyer-activist, approached the court to access her medical records. She suffers from diabetes, hypertension and several other health issues. Meanwhile, others like writer and activist Anand Teltumbde suffer from asthma.
Yet another political prisoner, G.N. Saibaba, a 53-year-old who was formerly a professor at Delhi University, continues to live in similar conditions. He is 90 percent disabled and also tested positive for COVID-19 in February. His daughter, Manjeera, says although he has recovered, Saibaba is weak. She says despite several letters to jail authorities and the Ministry of Home Affairs, which oversees Indian internal security and domestic affairs, no helper has been provided.
“He is 90% disabled and can’t do work on his own. He needs a helper to do his day-to-day activities. Whether it’s brushing his teeth, getting up from the bed, going to the toilet—he needs help with everything,” Manjeera says. “But there is no helper.”
G.N. Saibaba in 2015
She also alleges that despite knowing co-morbidities could be life-threatening for a COVID-19 infected patient, he wasn’t provided proper medical care after testing positive. The family had no choice but to hire a courier service to transport life-saving medicines and supplements to him.
A medical facility is attached to every jail. However, Manjeera said they are unprepared to treat inmates.
“The jail hospital—there is no hospital. It’s like a small barrack: A bed and that’s it,” she explained. “There is no one to take care of you.”
Meanwhile, Saibaba, who was arrested in 2014, is serving a life sentence for his alleged links to the banned Communist Party of India (Maoist).
All these political prisoners, lodged in several jails across India, continue to live in devastating conditions as the coronavirus wreaks havoc across the nation.
Deploying a Draconian Law During Lockdown
An important mechanism used by the Indian state to prevent political prisoners from being released is the Unlawful Activities Prevention Act (UAPA). The law—enacted in 1967—reverses “innocent until proven guilty” to “guilty until proven innocent.” The ruling BJP amended the UAPA in July 2019 to designate an individual as a terrorist without trial. Previous versions of the act only allowed groups to be designated as terrorists.
In introducing the amendment, Home Minister Amit Shah said individuals should be charged under the law for taking part in an act of terrorism, for helping prepare for such an act, and for raising money or spreading information to aid terrorism.
“Sir, guns do not give rise to terrorism, the root of terrorism is the propaganda that is done to spread it, the frenzy that is spread,” Shah told the Indian Parliament in 2019. “And if all such individuals are designated as terrorists, I don’t think any member of parliament should have any objection.”
This anti-terror law allows the detention of the accused without charge for up to 180 days.
“UAPA is something that with its amendments is designed to detain people indefinitely,” as prominent social activist and author Harsh Mander points out. “This can be understood from the fact that no charge sheet has been filed in the Bhima Koregaon and Delhi riots case, and yet the people are being detained indefinitely.”
In December 2019, as the Indian government passed the controversial Citizenship Amendment Act (CAA), protests erupted across the nation. However, in the wake of the protests, riots broke out in various parts of northeast Delhi during February 2021, after which several activists—many hailing from the marginalised minority communities—were arrested under the UAPA.
Mander alleges the BJP-led government has used a medical emergency to keep political prisoners inside prison without access to lawyers and proper healthcare facilities.
“Although the amendments in UAPA were made by previous governments, the current ruling party has used it to a greater extent and as a weapon against dissent,” Mander said.
He also asserted courts have failed undertrials (people detained while awaiting trial) and prisoners in safeguarding their rights.
“The courts should have objected and released guidelines regarding the release of undertrials and de-congestion of prisons,” Mander added. “They should have taken a sympathetic and humane view regarding the political prisoners.”
The overcrowding in Indian prisons is not a new phenomenon. Currently, 44 million cases are pending in Indian courts, and that number continues to increase. The slow pace overburdens prisons, as undertrials are kept waiting.
Overcrowded Indian Prisons
In a National Crime Records Bureau (NCRB) report published in 2019, 478,600 prisoners are lodged inside Indian jails, whereas they only have capacity for 403,700 inmates.
That means Indian jails are at 118.5 percent capacity. Also, around 68 percent of detainees are undertrials—not convicted prisoners.
As the coronavirus spread across the country in 2020 and beyond, overcrowded prisons have become a hotbed of infection. On April 28, the High Court of Delhi, while hearing a petition on the release of detainees, asked the concerned authorities to come up with a plan to de-congest jails. On May 7, the Indian Supreme Court also directed states to protect prisoners’ right to life and provide them with proper medical care during this pandemic. It ordered states to release undertrials facing non-serious charges on bail and people convicted of similar charges on parole.
Last year, as the pandemic broke out, close to 42,000 prisoners initially were released. But later, with a dip in the number of cases, many were returned to the prisons on the orders of the Supreme Court.
With the classification of legal services as “unessential,” but the construction of the $2.8 billion (USD) Central Vista Redevelopment Project in New Delhi deemed “essential,” the BJP government’s priority is evident. Yet the lives of political prisoners hang in the balance as they are refused bail, and as they struggle for access to basic amenities and medical care behind prison bars.
Rishabh Jain is a journalist who writes on Indian politics and issues central to India. He is based in New Delhi.
Kastura Chougule holding her son’s sledgehammer, which remains his last memory / credit: Sanket Jain
Kastura Chougule couldn’t sleep despite having worked 15 hours in the field.
“I was exhausted, but something didn’t feel right,” she recollected. It was half past midnight. Small, shriveled and in her early 70s, Chougule managed to muster enough strength to stretch her muscles and quickly walk toward the adjoining tin shanty.
Her son, Vijay, was sitting on the floor, covering his entire forehead with his hands.
“What’s wrong, son? What’s bothering you?” she asked in the vernacular Marathi language.
Vijay, in his mid-30s, didn’t reply, nor was he aware she had entered the room. After she asked multiple times, he replied, “Go to sleep. It’s too late.” It was the last his mother would see him. By nine in the morning, family members wondered why Vijay hadn’t woken up yet. By the time they had rushed to the house, Vijay, a stone cutter from the western Indian state of Maharashtra’s Jambhali village, was found hanging inside his shanty.
Climate change impacts such as floods, heat waves, cyclones, landslides and other disasters have made more than 5 million hectares of land (12.3 million acres) unusable, pushing more people into poverty across India / credit: Sanket Jain
Economy Grows, While Poor Left Behind
Vijay was one of 153,052 people who died by suicide in 2020. A year later, this number increased by 7 percent to 164,033 suicides, as per India’s National Crime Records Bureau (NCRB) which releases suicide figures every year. This marked the highest annual count since 1967, the year the NCRB began recording. India also witnessed a 10 percent increase in suicides between 2019 and 2020.
Last month, however, India became the fifth-largest economy, overtaking the United Kingdom. However, a United Nations Development Program (UNDP) report released in the same week found India ranked 132nd out of 191 countries on the Human Development Index. It has slipped to two spots since 2020.
Moreover, for the first time, daily wage laborers comprised more than 25 percent of suicide cases. In 2014, they made up only 12 percent of suicides, which means this portion of the Indian population’s suicides has increased by 113 percent.
Within the first month of India’s nationwide lockdown starting March 2020, 122 million people lost their jobs, estimated the Centre for Monitoring Indian Economy, a private company. Daily wage laborers and small traders comprised roughly 75 percent. A report found that a year of the lockdown pushed 230 million Indians into poverty. By the end of 2020, 15 million workers were still out of jobs, including Vijay.
Shrirang Chougule, holding his son’s photo: “Even today, I can’t believe my son who was so strong and gave all of us hope died by suicide.” / credit: Sanket Jain
‘We Never Imagined Life Would Break Him So Much’
“Ever since the lockdown, he was home most of the time. Moreover, construction work came to a halt in most places, which further affected his work,” says his father, Shrirang, who’s in his early 80s now.
Vijay left behind his sledge hammer, which weighs much more than what Kastura can lift.
“This is my son’s last sign,” she says tearfully. She spends most of the time staring at the ten kilograms (22 pounds) hammer.
“Suicide was the last thing he would contemplate,” she says. “For all of us, he was a support system, and we never imagined life would break him so much.”
Inside a crematorium in Maharashtra’s Kolhapur district in 2021. As per India’s National Crime Records Bureau (NCRB), 164,033 people died by suicide in 2021, a 17-percent increase since 2019 / credit: Sanket Jain
What Drove Vijay to Suicide?
A daily wage earner, he earned roughly 300 Indian Rupees ($3.50) for 10 hours of work breaking stones and boulders. He would hoist his hammer at least 4,000 times a day.
“For 6 to 7 months, he didn’t get enough work, which stressed him tremendously,” said his niece, Manisha, 22. When India lifted its nationwide lockdown after 67 days, Vijay found a few days’ work. “While using a tile cutter machine, he met with an accident and lost one of his fingers,” Manisha said.
This was a major blow as he found it extremely difficult to work now. “The task of breaking boulders using a mere hammer comes with no security, and he ended up permanently injuring one of his fingers a year before,” Shrirang said.
Still, Vijay tried breaking stones but couldn’t work with his previous intensity. Further, local lockdowns brought an end to whatever bare minimum work he got.
To undergo surgery for his fingers, he took out a medical loan of 200,000 Rupees ($2,500). “After this surgery, he wasn’t the same. He rarely spoke,” Manisha said. Two months later, he was diagnosed with severe dengue which permanently broke him.
“A few days before the suicide, he told me, ‘What’s the point of living now?’” Shrirang recounted, adding he tried every possible way to convince Vijay not to give up. “I even told him I would help him start a new business.”
Lawyer Amol Naik (brown shirt) has been unionizing daily wage laborers and farmers in India’s Maharashtra state to press for better policies that protect workers / credit: Sanket Jain
‘A Much Larger Problem’
The World Inequality Report 2022 mentioned the top 10 percent in India hold 57 percent of the national wealth, while the bottom 50 percent merely own 13 percent. “India stands out as a poor and very unequal country, with an affluent elite,” the report remarked.
“The stark inequality talks of a much larger problem,” says Amol Naik, a lawyer who is a member of All India Kisan Sabha, the farmers’ wing of the Communist Party of India (Marxist). “With the rapid increase in privatization, many public schools, hospitals and other important institutions that serve the poor have been completely destroyed. Moreover, with the rising inflation, the daily wage earners are caught in a tremendous debt cycle, with no support system.”
Further, in 2021, climate change impacts such as floods, heat waves, cyclones, landslides and other disasters have made more than 5 million hectares of land (12.3 million acres) unusable, pushing more people into poverty.
Vimal Ugale, in her 70s, does farm work to make ends meet. “Even today, I don’t know why my son thought of suicide.” / credit: Sanket Jain
Inadequate Mental Healthcare
In September 2021, Vishal Ugale told his sister that he wanted to rest for a while, so that he could leave for work in the evening. However, he never went to work.
The Ugale family had gathered to celebrate an auspicious occasion at 5:30 p.m.
“We were all dialing Vishal to start the auspicious ceremony, but he wouldn’t take our calls,” recalled his mother, Vimal Ugale. No one knew what exactly had happened.
“A few hours later, it was found that Vishal died by suicide in a public veterinary hospital,” said his sister, Savita Khondre.
A resident of Jambhali village in Maharashtra’s Kolhapur district, Vishal tended furnaces in factories and textile mills. “This work often affected him so much that he drank alcohol occasionally to forget his stress,” said Savita. “But since COVID, he started drinking quite frequently.”
Ugale, a farmworker in her early 70s, said she never knew the reason behind his suicide.
“Every few weeks, he would frustratingly say, ‘Why was I born in this household? I don’t want to live anymore,’” she recounted.
Ugale often spent hours talking to Vishal, asking what help he needed. But he wouldn’t say a word.
Flood-affected daily-wage laborers and farmworkers protesting against the rapidly rising cost of living and inflation in Maharashtra’s Shirol block / credit: Sanket Jain
The Taboo of Mental-Health Care
Vishal became more stressed after COVID induced lockdowns, said Khondre. Jambhali, which has a population of roughly 5,000 people, reported more than seven suicides in 2021, as per official records from the village sub-center. A sub-center is the first point of public healthcare for community members.
“Mostly people talk to us about physical illnesses,” said medical officer Dr. Vasanti Patil, under whose care this village falls. “They never mention mental-health problems because it is still considered a taboo in the villages.”
During the lockdown, she observed deteriorating mental health among several villagers, especially the ones who owed loans. “There are so many cases of rising debt, and with dwindling work during COVID, many people were stressed, which further affected them,” she said.
For a population of 1.3 billion people, India has 9,000 psychiatrists and 1,000 psychologists, as per research published in the Indian Journal of Psychiatry. That comes to 1 mental-health professional for every 130,000 Indians.
“Many villages don’t have adequate mental healthcare facilities, leaving people alone, further pushing them [to] the brink of suicide,” shared Naik, who has organized several protests in Maharashtra’s Kolhapur district and also accompanied many protests that marched to Mumbai, the country’s financial capital, to draw attention to the plight of farm workers and daily-wage laborers. “During these protests, almost everyone talks of the rising stress and the rapidly increasing cost of living.”
During the first wave of COVID, India witnessed a large-scale reverse migration, whereby workers returned to villages because they either had lost jobs or had no work. Many daily-wage laborers walked hundreds of miles to reach their villages.
“However, there wasn’t much work in the fields, and many people had no option to earn enough, further stressing them. During this time, the cases of substance abuse increased rapidly,” says community healthcare worker Bharti Kamble.
In her Bolakewadi village of Maharashtra, over half of the villagers migrate to India’s financial capital—Mumbai, working as daily-wage laborers. “All of these factors impacted almost everyone’s mental health.”
Ugale still thinks about what affected her son so much. She has spent several hours talking to Vishal’s friends. But, so far, she hasn’t found anything concrete.
“He left us with many questions, to which we won’t be able to find answers in an entire lifetime.”
If you are experiencing suicidal thoughts or know someone who needs help, please call India’s 24-hour, toll-free national mental-health helpline dubbed “Kiran” at 1 (800) 599-0019 or any of these helplines near you. For the United States, dial 988.
Sanket Jain is an independent journalist based in the Kolhapur district of the western Indian state of Maharashtra. He was a 2019 People’s Archive of Rural India fellow, for which he documented vanishing art forms in the Indian countryside. He has written for Baffler, Progressive Magazine, Counterpunch, Byline Times, The National, Popula, Media Co-op, Indian Express and several other publications.
The Trinity test of the Manhattan Project was the first detonation of a nuclear weapon / credit: U.S. Department of Energy
Editor’s Note: The following represents the writer’s opinion.
“This a critical moment for nuclear disarmament, and for our collective survival,” wrote Ray Acheson of Reaching Critical Will, commenting on the 10th Non-Proliferation Treaty Review Conference taking place since August 1 and ending August 26 at the United Nations.
I attended the conference for several days last week as an NGO delegate from the Women’s International League for Peace and Freedom (WILPF), and have been closely watching the negotiations going on for the entire month over an outcome statement for the conference.
After two weeks, a draft preamble was submitted that reaffirms, among other things, “…that a nuclear war cannot be won and must never be fought, and commits to ensuring that nuclear weapons will never be used again under any circumstances.”
This could be an extraordinary breakthrough toward global nuclear disarmament. Right now, 191 countries are represented in this treaty and are seated in the General Assembly hall listening to each other. In the first week, we heard urgent warning statements from the nations without nuclear weapons, such as, “The clouds that parted following the end of the Cold War are gathering once more.” Meanwhile, a representative from Costa Rica scolded, “The lack of firm deadlines has provided the nuclear-armed states with a pathway to disregard their disarmament commitments as flagrantly as they have since the last Review Conference.”
In a hopeful step, 89 non-nuclear states in the last year have either signed or ratified a binding disarmament agreement called the Treaty on the Prohibition of Nuclear Weapons (TPNW), which requires disarmament commitments. These states no longer tolerate the double talk from the nine-nation nuclear mafia made up of UN Security Council member states China, France, Russia, the United Kingdom and the United States, as well as the Democratic People’s Republic of Korea (North Korea), India, Israel and Pakistan.
How can the United States consider signing the draft preamble while the House and Senate are finalizing the National Defense Authorization Act, which calls for the modernization of its nuclear arsenal? How can the U.S. government even take part in this conference while it is seeking funding for a renewed nuclear edifice of destruction, including Modernized Strategic Delivery Systems and refurbished nuclear warheads? Over the next decade, the United States plans to spend $494 billion on its nuclear forces, or about $50 billion a year, according to a 2019 Congressional Budget Office report. Trillions of dollars for submarines, bombers and buried nuclear missiles. Things they are committing to not use. Please, does this make sense?
At one of the NGO meetings I attended in the basement of the UN, I blurted out, “This conference IS A FRAUD.” The nuclear mafia have no serious plans to disarm, as required by Section 6 of the NPT Treaty. Their duplicity could be rebuked to the world by a walkout in the final days of the conference by the countries that have signed and ratified the agreement, as well as by their supporters.
For the NPT Treaty to collapse would be tragic. But for it to continue when everyone knows it is a lie is a moral and mortal affront to the people of the world.
Robin Lloyd is secretary of the Toward Freedom Board of Directors. She is a member of the Women’s International League for Peace and Freedom in the United States.
