Footnotes
I N D R A S I N H ANonsense and noncensorship: Bhopal nursery rhymes in the Times
PLEASE DOUBLECLICK IMAGES TO ENLARGE (LEFT) TIMES AND (RIGHT) INDEPENDENT
On December 3rd 2011, the twenty-seventh anniversary of the gas disaster in Bhopal, the ad appeal on the left ran in The Times and the one on the right in The Independent. At a glance they appear identical, and were originally identical, both being taken from the same piece of artwork, the only difference between them was the identification code in the coupon.
So how did the Times version come to read like this:
Toxic chemical wastes dumped by Little Miss Muffet eating her curds and whey asa great spider sat down beside her– are even as you read these words, leaking into the water that many poor families have no choice but to drink…In India, as in the US and UK, a polluter must pay to clean up its mess. If the polluter was an old farmer ’ad an ’ol sow, phoo-ow, phhtt-ow, phff-addely Suzannah’s a funniful man, phoo-ann, phttt-an, phff-addley dan wouldn’t we believe stand scrutiny in a court.
The deadline for a Saturday edition is noon Friday and cut-off point for late submissions is generally no later than 6 p.m. by which time the reps and production people have been panicking for a couple of hours. Any later than six and your ad will probably not appear and you’ll have lost your money.
At around 3:15 p.m. there’s a call from our media consultant. “The Times lawyers have rejected the ad,” she says. “It’s about the mention of Dow.”
“What about it? What’s the problem?”
“I don’t know. The rep was very vague, she just told me that the lawyers had problems with the ad.”
“I need to know what problems, if we are to fix them.”
“I’ll get the rep to ring you.”
The rep rings about twenty minutes later. “The laywer wants you to take out all references to Dow Chemical.”
“But why? What in particular is the problem?”
“Dunno,” said the rep. “Lawyer just said to remove all mentions of Dow from the ad.”
“Could I talk to the lawyer?”
Around 4 p.m. an email arrives with the lawyer’s number.
“It is full of unsupported allegations,” says he when called.
“Like what?”
“For example that chemical wastes were dumped by Union Carbide in Bhopal.”
“That’s not an allegation. It’s a known fact.”
“This alleged dumping. Were there witnesses?”
“Well, we are talking about tens of thousands of tons of highly toxic organochlorides that were bulldozed over a period of several years into huge ‘solar evaporation ponds’ designed expressly for the purpose. So yes, there were witnesses.”
Silence at the other end.
“The company’s own documents show that the engineers in West Virginia who were asked to design the ponds were relucant to do so, because they foresaw that they would leak and the groundwater and drinking water would be contaminated.”
“These sort of things should be put to Union Carbide and their response published alongside the allegation.”
“With respect, it’s 4.15 p.m. How can we possibly do that before six o’clock tonight? We have Union Carbide telexes confirming that the ponds were in fact leaking, asking for guidance from the US head office.”
“You also allege here that Union Carbide is 100% merged into Dow. Do you have any evidence of this?”
“They merged in 2001. They’re effectively the same company. I have a statement from Union Carbide’s 2010 SEC filing… If I could just find it and read it to you…”
“I’m not going to argue about this.”
“I am not arguing, I’m trying to give you facts. It says here, ‘Union Carbide Corporation’s business activities comprise components of Dow’s global operations rather than stand-alone operations . . . there are no separable reportable business segments for UCC’…”
“Why mention the Olympics? Are you impying that they bear some responsibility for what Union Carbide may or may not have done.”
“Union Carbide dumped chemicals, Union Carbide and Dow are merged, that under the name of Dow this merged entity is sponsoring the Olympics. These are all facts. How can Dow be a fit partner for the most sustainable Olympics ever?”
“You say again below relating to contamination that ‘Dow doesn’t accept that it has any liabiity.’ This is a serious allegation, as it is suggesting that Dow is acting irresponsibly.”
“We are merely quoting what Dow itself has publicly stated on many occasions, including in your own paper.”
“You say that Dow’s statements wouldn’t stand scrutiny in a court. This is an allegation that they are lying.”
“We have actually said that we believe their reasons wouldn’t stand scrutiny. That obviously is the basis on which the Bhopal survivors’ groups are petitioning the court. The court will decide – if Dow can be brought to court – but it is now refusing to accept the jurisdiction of India’s Supreme Court. It prefers to treat this as a PR issue. Hence the public statements, which Lord Coe and LOCOG have repeatedly echoed word for word.”
“Why do you have to drag the Olympics into this?”
“Our point, if you read on, is that by uncritically accepting Dow’s statements about inherited liability for Bhopal, statements which are the main planks of its defence in the forthcoming Supreme Court case, the Olympic movement is declaring Dow to be innocent before the evidence is even heard. Before doing this, couldn’t they have at least talked to the survivors movement? Listened to what they had to say?”
“My job here,” says the lawyer, “is not to debate the ins and outs of this with you, but to protect the interests of The Times. Just take out all the references to Dow.”
“Do you seriously think that Dow is going to sue a medical charity providing free care for the victims over statements which, factually, are not even in issue?”
“It’s not so much what Dow might do, but what view the Olympic committee might take.”
“Has Dow taken out a superinjunction?”
“Look,” says the lawyer. “If you want this ad to run, my suggestion is that you delete paras 2, 3, 4 and 14. You could fill the space by making the rest of the type bigger.”
“But that would make a nonsense of the ad. It wouldn’t make any sense.”
It’s now coming up for 4.40 p.m. The other phone is ringing frantically. It will be the production people, or the Times rep.
“I’ve had an idea. It will take a few minutes and I could send you a new version.”
“I’m going home at 5.30,” says the lawyer. “I’ll look at another version if you get it to me before then.”
The other line’s still ringing. “At last,” shrieks our media consultant. “Do you have any old ads that have already run in the Times?”
“Yes, lots.”
“Well can’t we send them one of those?
The artwork for the old ads is still there. Portrait of a Crime Against Humanity lists the near total destruction of the body by the corrosive poisons of December 1984. Plith Love Me was a piece about Raju, a mentally retarded boy, one of the innumerable children born damaged in places where the wells and stand pipes are poisoned.
“If they don’t like this ad, I hardly think they’ll like those.”
“They can hardly object to running an ad they’ve already run. Send them the other ads.”
4:45 p.m. How did it go, that old song? There wuz an old varmer ad an ol sow. [Snort!] Ow! [Spit!] Ow! [Phweep!] Addley… [Hysterical laughter] Yes, that’s the one.
The revised ad travels to the times at 4:57 p.m. A few minutes later we’re back on the phone.
“There’s a new version. Have you seen it?”
“You mean this one with nursery rhymes mixed into it? You want to run this?”
“Would you object?”
“If you’re asking is there a legal objection, no, I have no legal objection. Of course the editor might not think it a fit piece.”
“Why not?”
“Well, it could appear that you are mocking the victims. It could upset a lot of people.”
“The Bhopal Medical Appeal would hardly be likely to mock the victims.”
“It’s your ad.”
“How about if we sent you a couple of old ads. Ones that have run before in your paper. Presumably there could be no objection to re-running those?”
“I’d have to look at them.”
Portrait of a Crime Against Humanity and Plith Luv Me need re-working because their coupons are out of date. It takes a while but they duly follow to the Times at 6:22 p.m. and 6.50 p.m. respectively.
6:55 p.m. The lawyer’s phone rings unanswered.



