Ishrat Jahan case: What's happened to the truth?

It’s an old lesson you’re taught in journalism but it’s one, I’ve realised, you must keep reminding yourself about. When I was a rookie crime reporter, a jaded senior, while giving me a real lecture, said: “You think you know something. But don’t assume anything in crime stories. You never know what the truth is, so always keep an open mind.” He was a Bengali and so his gentle words weren’t as effective as another Australian journo’s, who very eloquently cited this old wisdom in the middle of a training session: “Assumption is the mother of all f**k ups!”

 I thought of this as I tried to make sense of the Ishrat Jahan case this week and how everyone was drowning in a pool of assumptions and perceptions. I wasn’t really an expert on the case, having never really covered it much apart from the recent CBI investigations. But even as a lay person, I was fascinated to see how the ‘experts’ in the case, the ones who claimed to have followed it, were making all kinds of assumptions.

 These were assumptions like ‘what kind of 19-year-old college girl would go on frequent out-of-station trips with her boss?’

Now, we all carry our backgrounds and biases in deciding whether that is normal behaviour for a girl struggling to earn a living for her family, or whether it’s a sign of a suspected terrorist.

As a working woman who goes for outstation trips, I might think that it is normal, but those who don’t, may think that is odd and suspicious behaviour. Others, from their perception of orthodox Muslim families, may decide that it was odd that Ishrat was allowed to travel alone. But while all these assumptions seem valid to those making them, they are just that: assumptions.

Then there is the assumption about why Pranesh Pillai would opt to convert and become Javed Sheikh. One well-known commentator was heard on TV saying that Javed was suspicious just because he had converted, suggesting that his conversion signified that he was brainwashed into becoming a Jihadi. The commentator was soon corrected by the reporter that the conversion happened a decade ago. But hadn’t her words already created a perception in someone’s mind, or convinced someone else who may have been unsure?

In a space where facts are sparse, these perceptions are now ruling and gnawing at our minds. They have clouded logic to such an extent that we start believing what we are told. Look at what the Intelligence Bureau cites as hard evidence that Ishrat Jahan is a terrorist.

It’s a statement by David Headley, the Pakistani-American terrorist, who is serving a 35-year sentence in the US for terror crimes. “I state that in late 2005, Zaki-ur-Rehman Lakhvi introduced Muzammil to me… (he) talked about the accomplishments of Muzammil… Zaki also sarcastically mentioned that Muzammil was a top commander... that Ishrat Jahan module was also one of Muzammil’s ‘botched up’ operations.”

Does this statement sound like hard evidence to you or just some random chatter?

It’s the same as the ‘hard’ evidence that the other camp is banging on about. The testimony of DSP DH Goswami again relies on hearsay to link the Ishrat case to Gujarat chief minister Narendra Modi and the then home minister Amit Shah. Goswami says in his statement recorded in front of a magistrate that he heard IB officer Rajendra Kumar asking jailed Gujarat police officer DG Vanzara to “talk to the chief minister.” He goes on to say that the next day, when he visited the Crime Branch again, Vanzara told his colleague that he had “got approval from the chief minister and minister of home.”

Now I don’t know about you, but both seem to be on shaky ground to me. Both are unlikely to hold up in court. And yet these perceptions are thriving. They are being perpetuated by our politicians who grab each new or old development and twist its narrative to suit their needs. They must be really proud as so many people now have bought into their respective agendas.

Coming back to assumptions in journalism, I just want to cite one case that went against our collective assumptions. When National Highway Authority of India project director Satyendra Dubey was killed in 2003, we all assumed that the bright, idealistic young man was killed because he had been a whistle-blower who exposed corruption in the Golden Quadrilateral project. We reported his letter to the Prime Minister’s Office, how he received threats and assumed that he had been bumped off. So when the CBI concluded it was a simple case of robbery and that he just happened to be at the wrong place at the wrong time, we protested and refused to believe it.

But, guess what? The CBI also managed to recover Dubey’s identity card from where the killers had thrown it. They had evidence to back their claim and however much we tried, we couldn’t punch holes in their case. The investigating officer told me: “It is true he complained, and he had enemies. But it was just one of those really tragic cases, he was mugged for money while returning late in Gaya.”

The truth’s like that — it’s nothing we can control. Often, it’s something we don’t like. But the truth has to be sacrosanct.

Sunetra Choudhury is an anchor/reporter for NDTV and is the author of the election travelogue Braking News.