Journalism
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vedantam.com
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| The Philadelphia Inquirer
December 3, 1994; Pg. A01 Three Lives Reshaped by Disaster Ten Years Ago, they Rushed to the Bhopal Tragedy. Amid the Death and Suffering, they found Opportunity. By Shankar Vedantam
Just across the road from the Union Carbide pesticide plant in Bhopal, India, were hundreds of shacks, fragile homes of mud and thatch, waterproofed with plastic bags, reinforced with string. Whole generations of families lived in these poor tenements, and the cloud of death wafted gently down upon them as they slept. Then, suddenly, people were pouring from the shacks, awakened by their neighbors' screams and the burning air. Stumbling through the gullies, they dragged half-awake children behind them, terror at the edges of half-finished dreams. More than 3,000 people were killed that night, 10 years ago today, asphyxiated by the chemical fumes. Tens of thousands were injured. People flooded past one another in the days that followed, entering and leaving the ghastly city. Among them were three men whose lives would intersect at history's worst industrial disaster. They were vastly different, but they shared one goal: to salvage renewal and opportunity from the ashes of tragedy. § When John Coale heard about the disaster on the radio as he headed to his small law practice in Washington, two words popped into his head: One was "adventure." The other was "opportunity." Within hours, he was on a flight to India. He knew if he moved fast, he could ride the crest of the big wave. He was going to storm the world of the mega-compensation lawsuit. He was besieged in Bhopal. Reporters swarmed around him - the first American lawyer had arrived. Politicians courted him - he promised to hunt down Union Carbide's billions. Victims pressed their palms together to him - here was a man who could make the suffering go away. For sure, the big-name American lawyers such as Melvin Belli were expected shortly. But for those first few days, John Coale, just two days removed from the petty disputes of Washington's traffic court, ruled his supplicants with a grand benevolence, promised everyone justice and dollars, and collected contracts by the fistful. "I controlled the city," he said recently. "It was bigger than money. I felt I could accomplish a lot." And it was turning into one heck of an adventure. § Ronald Van Mynen, a 19-year veteran manager of Union Carbide plants, was in Bangkok when he heard the news. Corporate headquarters in Danbury, Conn., were ordering him to Bhopal. He was to lead the investigation into the 50-ton leak of methyl isocyanate, a pesticide ingredient. It was to be Van Mynen's acid test, a chance to underscore that he deserved to become one of Union Carbide's elite managers. By the time Van Mynen reached Bhopal - on the third day after the disaster - the hospitals were overflowing. Cremations and burials had been conducted nonstop, until there was no more wood to burn the corpses and the cemeteries were full. When he visited the plant, he saw the shacks across the road. On a wall adjoining the rows of thatch, someone had written, "Killer Carbide." "They didn't have much to begin with," Van Mynen reflected about the victims. "They lived with poverty, disease and heartache - before this disaster came to them." But there was no time to grieve. The investigators were under pressure. There were 16- to 18-hour days ahead, no weekends or holidays. Van Mynen proved he could hold up under fire. And Danbury would reward him. They would soon make him a vice president in the company. § Like John Coale, Satinath Sarangi heard the news over the radio. He was in a small village 75 miles from Bhopal. Only weeks before, he had taken leave from his job as a government scientist. He had come to the village to organize educational programs and to see whether he wanted to follow his heart into social service and activism. "I couldn't get an idea of what was happening, the news report was vague," Sarangi recalled last week. "I felt I had to go and do what I could." Everywhere Sarangi looked in Bhopal, a day after the accident, people were crying and calling out for help. He plunged into relief work. But he also found passivity. Widows of gas victims would not take their protests to the streets. Men whose families had died squatted outside their huts and did nothing. With a fatalism handed down through generations and strengthened by helplessness, they saw the disaster as the will of God. Sarangi was outraged. What had happened was wrong, it was unjust, it had to be fought. He realized that besides protesting against Union Carbide and pressuring government authorities to provide relief, the battle was to repair the social structures of Bhopal. § As Van Mynen continued his scientific investigation, his company's stock plunged on Wall Street. A New Jersey firm launched a takeover bid. Billion-dollar lawsuits were brought against Union Carbide. Many analysts predicted the chemical giant was dying. But they had underestimated its legal and financial wizards. Union Carbide plotted a defense that would become the awe of Wall Street, a case study for business schools. It sold assets worth billions, bought back its own stock and issued huge dividends. It downsized its workforce. It acquired massive debt - making it a hard target for a big compensation judgment. In less than a year, Union Carbide had turned the battle around. Its stock value tripled. Anyone who had invested in the company just after the gas disaster landed a windfall. § In Bhopal, hundreds of victims were dying from gas-related injuries as the city awaited compensation. In New York's Ninth District Court, John Coale had his hands full. The Indian government had pleaded on behalf of all the gas victims to have the compensation case heard in America, while Union Carbide wanted it heard in India. Both parties knew a U.S. jury would award a far larger compensation decision than any court in India. Coale and the other American lawyers were trying to stay in the fight, arguing that many victims were their personal clients. It didn't work. In May 1986, disgusted at not being able to broker a settlement, U.S. District Judge John Keenan turned the case over to the Indian courts. § While the case wound its way through the Bhopal courts, battling a maze of procedural difficulties, Satinath Sarangi and the other activists were debating where the victim-rights' movement should go. Most of the victims were poor, illiterate people. The activists were middle class, with Western-style educations. Sarangi felt the activists should not thrust their opinions on the gas victims, instead the victims should be encouraged to make their own decisions about their future. But quarrels broke out when other activists wanted to lead the victims. "Everyone wanted to be the leader and the voice of the people," recalled Vinod Raina, an activist. The people's movement, the dream of idealism that had drawn Sarangi and the others to Bhopal, was disintegrating. Every December, the victim-rights groups organized their separate protests, demanding that Union Carbide compensate the victims speedily. In February 1989, the Indian government reached a settlement with Union Carbide: $470 million. It was a fraction of the $3 billion that the victim-rights groups wanted, but the Indian government said obtaining the whole amount could take two decades of litigation. Angered by the settlement and determined not to let the world forget Bhopal, Sarangi traveled two months later with gas victims to America. In Texas, he stormed a Union Carbide shareholders' meeting. He wanted to show them "what their company was doing to Bhopal." "Carbide had us arrested for trespass," Sarangi said. "We spent a day in a Houston jail." § In July that year, a United Airlines flight from Denver to Philadelphia crashed in Iowa, killing 112. Again, John Coale was ready. Only this time, he wasn't the underdog audaciously getting a foot in the door. He was now a power in disaster- compensation lawsuits: His foray into Bhopal had given him stature. He said he made more than a million dollars from the airline lawsuit. There were other cases, too. He was profiled by the national media. On television, Peter Jennings, Dan Rather and Ted Koppel interviewed him. In his office, he framed photos of the anchors talking to "John." "It's good for business," he said. "People who come in to see me see all this and figure there must be something here. If the media said you were important, you were." He smiled. "They now call me the master of disaster." § After his promotion, Van Mynen became responsible for standards worldwide in Union Carbide's chemicals and plastics group. His investigation led the company to argue that the gas leak was caused by employee sabotage. An Indian parliamentary investigation had said it was caused by careless work procedures and negligence. In any case, Van Mynen said, "A company must be morally accountable for all that it does. You can't dismiss (Bhopal), saying this was sabotage, I wasn't responsible." Across America, the chemical industry saw the price Carbide was paying and moved toward higher safety standards, too. "Carbide brought the world Bhopal," Van Mynen said. "But we kept saying that if we didn't learn from this, it would be a second tragedy." § In the narrow streets of Bhopal, two deities emerged. Bribery was the quick way to get redress. The poor had only God. Officials estimated 3,000 had died during the disaster, and thousands more in the months that followed. But in the panic at the time, no one had kept track of who had died. About 15,000 death claims were filed and more than 500,000 injury claims. But with little knowledge of the effects of methyl isocyanate, it was impossible to distinguish gas victims from other deaths and injuries. The compensation setup became chaos. Local leaders used their influence over the compensation courts to distribute favors and largesse. The sharks of corruption emerged. "From the peon to the magistrate there is corruption," said Suresh Kumar, 35, who lived near the plant. To date, the courts have awarded $20 million to the victims. The awards have averaged $3,000 for deaths and $500 for injuries. § Today, Ronald Van Mynen, 57, loves tinkering with his five cars in the four-car garage of his Tudor house in Danbury. A religious man, he spends spare time - what little he has - in church activities. Two years ago, he was promoted to vice president for health, safety and environment at Union Carbide, a top position at the $5 billion company. "I've gotten further than I ever dreamed," he says. § Outside Sarangi's home today, butchers hang carcasses on meat hooks, exposing them to the grime of the street. Little boys standing on a nearby overpass urinate into open sewers. Barbers shave clients on the street, with mirrors resting on nails driven into trees, a single razor blade servicing a dozen customers. His one-room office doubles as his home, a mattress spread on the floor. Among the clutter of files and posters, a black plaque with white letters commands: "Question Authority." Sarangi, 40, is organizing protests for the disaster's 10th anniversary today, but has little hope. "There have been protests the last 10 years," he says. "What
has come He does not regret the decade he has spent in Bhopal. But if he could do it over, he would insist the victims play a greater role in their struggle. Today, they are more conscious of their rights - and their power. "Initially the women were tradition-bound. They have come out." Community ties are stronger. "Good has come from the struggle." He pauses. "But the losses far outweigh the gains. "The only really good news is that some of the victims have survived," he says, "in spite of Union Carbide, in spite of the government." § John Coale now spends more than half his time in his second office in Florida, close to the ocean and his beloved 48-foot sailboat. Hollywood has bought the rights to his life story. Coale, 48, says he would enjoy that, making a movie or a television series about his life. "I don't go places because I have a bleeding heart," he says of the Bhopal case. "I went for the adventure." He shrugs at what has happened: "It's planet earth once again. There's justice from time to time, little tidbits. The rest of the time, the establishment wins."
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