Bhopal
Flowers at the altar of proit and power
Frank Pearce and Steve Tombs
“We are not lowers offered at the altar of proit and power. We are
dancing lames committed to conquering darkness and to challenging
those who threaten the planet and the magic and mystery of life”.
So said Rashida Bee, a Bhopal survivor who lost six family members in
the disaster.
In December 1984, a massive gas leak killed thousands in and around
a Union Carbide chemical plant in Bhopal, India; tens of thousands
have died since, and many more have had their lives and livelihoods
devastated. The US-based company and its CEO remain absconders
from Indian justice. They have consistently denied, obfuscated and
used the resources at the disposal of the powerful to evade any legal
judgment.
This book draws on a considerable literature to make a social scientiic
judgment of their liability for the world’s worst industrial ‘disaster’. It
attempts to convey some of the horrendous events and consequences of
the gas leak itself, before examining Union Carbide’s responses to and
‘explanations’ of the disaster, contrasting these with more persuasive
explanations.
The book then poses, and answers, a key question: was the disaster
unforeseeable and therefore preventable? In conclusion, we explore
corporate rationality and in particular relect on the view that everything
has its price, that money can compensate for any loss or injury. It is
this view which helps to explain the manoeuvrings that went into the
determination of the deeply problematic legal “settlement” for the
victims of Bhopal – a sordid compromise between unequal parties
which offers no justice, but underlines why the struggle of Rashida Bee
and others around the globe continues.
No More Bhopals!
Bhopal
Flowers at the altar of proit and power
Frank Pearce and Steve Tombs
CrimeTalk Books
North Somercotes
CrimeTalk Books
North Somercotes
Lincolnshire. UK.
www.crimetalk.org.uk
Copyright © Frank Pearce and Steve Tombs 2012.
ISBNs 978-0-9570241-6-8 [pdf]
All rights reserved. Except for the quotation of short passages for the purposes of
review, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system,
or transmitted, in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying,
recording or otherwise, without the prior permission of the Publisher or a licence
from the ALCS [Authors Licensing and Collecting Society], 13 Haydon St., London
EC3N 1DB.
A catalogue record of this book is available from the British Library.
PDF Prepared by York Publishing Services, Layerthope, York, YO31 7ZQ
www.yps-publishing.co.uk
Earlier versions of the chapters in this book were published in CrimeTalk, the
criminology e-zine, as follows:
http://www.crimetalk.org.uk/library/section-list/38/227-lowers-at-the-altar-ofproit-and-power-the-continuing-disaster-at-bhopal-.html
http://www.crimetalk.org.uk/library/section-list/38/291-flowers-at-the-altarof-profit-and-power-the-continuing-disaster-at-bhopal-part-2-explaining-thedisaster.html
http://www.crimetalk.org.uk/library/section-list/38/361-lowers-at-the-altar-ofproit-and-power-part-3-was-the-disaster-at-bhopal-qunforeseeableq.html
http://www.crimetalk.org.uk/library/section-list/38-frontpage-articles/469bhopal-reassessment-part4.html
http://www.crimetalk.org.uk/library/section-list/38-frontpage-articles/616bhopal-criminal-immoral-or-business-as-usual.html
http://www.crimetalk.org.uk/library/section-list/38-frontpage-articles/228-thebhopal-disaster-pearce-and-tombs-bibliography.html
Contents
The authors
vi
Foreword
vii
Introduction
1
1
The disaster at Bhopal
4
2
Explaining the disaster
19
3
Was the disaster ‘unforeseeable’?
28
4
The ‘settlement’
39
5
Criminal, immoral or the cost of ‘business as usual’?
52
Bibliography
57
The authors
Frank Pearce is Professor of Sociology at Queen’s University, Canada.
He was co-author with Steve Tombs of Toxic Capitalism (Ashgate,1998).
His irst book, Crimes of the Powerful: Marxism, Crime and Deviance
(Pluto 1976) also addressed corporate, organized and state crime. He
has a long term engagement with sociological theory, particularly the
work of Marx, Gramsci, Durkheim, and Foucault. Publications include
The Radical Durkheim (Canadian Scholars Press 2001), “The College
de sociologie” in Economy and Society, and Critical Realism and the
Social Sciences co-edited with Jon Frauley. He tries and sometime
succeeds in maintaining both “Optimism of the Will and Optimism of
the Intellect”.
Steve Tombs is Professor of Sociology at Liverpool John Moores
University. He was co-author, with Frank Pearce, of Toxic Capitalism
(Ashgate, 1998) and his recent publications include Regulatory
Surrender: death, injury and the non-enforcement of law (Institute
of Employment Rights, 2010), A Crisis of Enforcement: the
decriminalisation of death and injury at work (Centre for Crime
and Justice Studies, 2008) and Safety Crimes (Willan, 2007), all coauthored with Dave Whyte. He was Chair of the Chair of the Centre for
Corporate Accountability, 1999-2009.
vi
Foreword
This is the most incisive, persuasive and detailed account of the Bhopal
disaster yet written. In clear, beautiful prose, using hundreds of
documents and contrasting accounts, Pearce and Tombs meticulously
document the causes, effects and aftermath of the world’s worst
industrial “accident” (so far). Through its own corporate documents
they trace the lines of responsibility from the parent company, Union
Carbide (now Dow), to Bhopal, revealing the duplicity and venality of
its efforts to distance itself by laying all blame on Indian management
or the elusive “saboteur”. Their concluding argument shows how the
world-view championed by neo-liberal economics – that market values
must take primacy in all human relationships and that everything
has its price – both legitimates Bhopal and fuels continuing cultural,
environmental and social damage. This superb, important book should
be read by activists, politicians and everyone working for a more just,
equitable world.
Laureen Snider, Professsor Emerita, Department of Sociology,
Queen’s University, Kingston, Ontario, Canada.
vii
viii
“The perpetrators of the worst corporate massacre in history
are absconding from charges of culpable homicide for the last
19 years and the corporation that is sheltering this fugitive
from justice for the last 10 years is now the main sponsor of
London Olympics 2012. It has been 27 years and the victims
of Bhopal are still awaiting justice, time the international
community sat up and took notice.”
Satinath Sarangi, Bhopal Medical Appeal,
communication to Steve Tombs, 2 December 2011.
personal
“We are not lowers offered at the altar of proit and power.
We are dancing lames committed to conquering darkness
and to challenging those who threaten the planet and the
magic and mystery of life.”
The above statement is from Rashida Bee, a Bhopal survivor who lost 6
family members in the disaster, and can be viewed in the excellent video
below: “The Bhopal Chemical Disaster: Twenty Years without Justice”,
2007, an excellent summary of the whole tragedy and scandal, produced
by Sanford Lewis and reproduced here with his kind permission:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0csW97x8d24
ix
Some informative videos
There are several videos which dovetail well with this book that are
available on YouTube for those of you who wish to hear the story, see
some of the participants, view something of Bhopal the city, and hear
some of the legal and technical assessments. Here are the links:
“One night in Bhopal”, BBC:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uz73rcdSG80&feature=related
“Bhopal gas tragedy, Parts 1-4, National Geographic:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Up5rbkS4CGI&feature=related
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OXCXNIH2pZw&feature=related
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Dkt6rUypnE4&feature=related
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KaklNxU3MOE&feature=related
“Bhopal 26 years later – search for justice continues, Annie Leonard: h
ttp://www.youtube.com/watch?v=19Q4iBXgwpU&feature=related
“Bhopal disaster – BBC – The Yes Men”, The Yes Men.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LiWlvBro9eI&feature=related
“Bhopal gas tragedy: explore the truth”, Kadam Seva Samiti.
x
Some useful websites for documenting and resisting
corporate crime and harm
Bhopal
http://www.bhopal.org/
The Bhopal Medical Appeal supports the Bhopal survivors and the
medical work in Bhopal. It arises from and is part of the survivors’
struggle. Its inspiration and ideals come from the survivors
http://bhopal.net/icjb/
The International Campaign for Justice in Bhopal is a coalition of
organisations, non-proit groups and individuals led by ive Bhopal
survivor organisations working in close alliance with others.
http://studentsforbhopal.org/
Students for Bhopal is a a network of students, professionals, activists,
and partners working in solidarity with the ICJB and the survivors of
the Bhopal disaster in their struggle for justice
http://bhopal.bard.edu/
The Bhopal Memory Project, resources for teaching, learning and action
around the disaster
Other
www.corporatewatch.org/
Corporate Watch (UK) tracks similar forms of corporate activity to
the US journal of the same name (below), but is independent of and
unrelated to the US publication.
www.corpwatch.org/trac/about/about.html
Corporate Watch (US) tracks illegal and unethical corporate activity, and
business-industry relations. Its parent organization is the Transnational
Resource and Action Center (TRAC), based in San Francisco
xi
http://www.hazards.org/
Hazards Magazine uses a global network of union safety correspondents
to provide resources for campaigns for safer and healthier workplaces
www.business-humanrights.org/Home
Business and Human Rights Resource Center, provides access (through
links) to a wide range of materials on subjects relating to business and
human rights.
www.corporatepolicy.org/issues/crime.htm
The Center for Corporate Policy, US-based non-proit, non-partisan
public interest organization “working to curb corporate abuses and
make corporations publicly accountable”
http://www.pcaw.co.uk/index.htm
Public Concern at Work (PCaW) is an independent authority on public
interest whistle-blowing, seeking support and facilitating whistleblowing as a means of anticipating and avoiding the organisational
production of harm.
http://www.crocodyl.org/
Crocodyl aims to stimulate collaborative research among NGOs,
journalists, activists, whistleblowers and academics from both the
global South and North in order to develop publicly available proiles of
the world’s most powerful corporations.
www.stopcorporateabuse.org
Corporate Accountability International (formerly Impact) are engaged
in advocacy, grassroots organizing, research and education, seeking to
put an end to irresponsible corporate behaviour.
http://freedocumentaries.org/aboutus.php
Streams full-length documentary ilms free of charge, with no registration
needed. It represents itself as “a much-needed counterbalance to
corporate media: an industry dominated by special interests”. There are
numerous ilms there relevant to the concerns of this module.
xii
Introduction
We are not lowers offered at the altar of proit and power. We
are dancing lames committed to conquering darkness and to
challenging those who threaten the planet and the magic and
mystery of life.
(Rashida Bee, a Bhopal Survivor who lost six family members in the
disaster, in Lewis, 2007)
We hope that this verdict today helps to bring some closure to
the victims and their families.
(Robert Blake, the US assistant secretary of state for South Asia, on the
court case of June 2010, in America – Engaging the World, 2010)
In June 2010, over 25 years after the massive gas leak which killed
thousands at a chemical plant in Bhopal, Madhya Pradesh, an Indian
court inally handed down sentences following successful criminal
prosecutions related to the disaster. After the original charges of culpable
homicide had been watered down, seven senior managers working
at the Bhopal plant in 1984 were found guilty of death by neglect (an
eighth so charged had died during the legal process), given two year
prison sentences and ined the equivalent of approximately $2,100.
Union Carbide India Ltd (UCIL), then a subsidiary of the American
company Union Carbide Corporation (UCC) and since 1995 of Eveready
Industries India Ltd (EIIL), was ined $11,000.
All those found guilty were Indian nationals but Warren Anderson,
American CEO of UCC at the time of the gas leak, UCC itself and Union
Carbide Eastern (UCE), another subsidiary of UCC with oversight
over UCIL, could not be considered for trial in their absence: the court
labelled these three named defendants ‘absconders’. As the writer Indra
Sinha put it, then:
1
“The people most responsible for the disaster in Bhopal were not
in the courtroom …. Union Carbide Corporation (US), its former
chairman Warren Anderson, and Union Carbide Eastern have
been refusing since 1992 to obey the summons of the Bhopal
court and answer charges of culpable homicide. The evidence
against them remains unheard. Instead the prosecution focused
on the small fry, the Indian managers, while the case that they
were ultimately carrying out orders that originated in the US has
not been tried.” (Sinha, 2010)
From some viewpoints, the convictions may represent justice, albeit
of a limited kind. It is certainly exceptional for any senior manager
to receive a custodial sentence following occupational deaths or
environmental damage. In a whole series of ways, however, the verdict
merely represents another in a long series of instances of justice denied.
Hazra Bee, of the International
Campaign for Justice in Bhopal,
responded to the sentences by stating
“We feel outraged and betrayed. This is
not justice. This is a travesty of justice
… the paltry sentencing is a slap in
the face of suffering Bhopal victims”.
On the same website, Sathyu Sarangi,
of the Bhopal Group for Information
and Action, commented that “by
handling those guilty of the world’s
worst industrial disaster so leniently,
our courts and Government are telling
dangerous industries and corporate
CEOs that they stand to lose nothing even if they put entire populations
and the environment at risk”.
In this short book, we draw on a considerable literature (see our
Bibliography on p. 57) to consider the claims of Sarangi, Bee and
2
others in the context of the long struggle for justice by the victims and
residents of Bhopal – a struggle that continues, but within which the
recent convictions represent a landmark.
In Chapter One we try to convey some sense of the horrendous
experiences of those who were exposed to the toxic cloud. In Chapter
Two we look at Union Carbide’s response to and explanation of the
disaster, contrasting it with more persuasive explanations. In Chapter
Three, we pose and provide an answer to the question: was the disaster
unforeseeable? In Chapter Four we explore some of the manoeuvrings
that went into the determination of the deeply problematic “settlement”.
By way of a conclusion, Chapter Five explores the relationship between
corporate rationality and corporate crime and ends with a relection on
the effects of the view, intrinsic to neoclassical economics, that in the
human world primacy should be given to market relations. There is an
intimate relationship between this mode of thought and the view that
everything has its price, or, in other words, that money can compensate
for any loss or injury.
Overall, we address and assess the complex claims and counter-claims
around responsibility for the disaster, and seek to demonstrate that
the settlement failed both to provide justice for the victims and to
apply justice to the perpetrators. This Bhopal tragedy is not, sadly, a
Shakespearean tale. It is, of course, all too real – despite the attempts
by a toxic capitalism and its political allies to deny its nature and
dimensions, their consistent lies and obfuscations regarding its causes,
and their callous and persistent efforts to enforce closure upon people
who will not be silenced. It is a disaster of unprecedented proportions,
which continues every day, with effects far beyond the city walls of
Bhopal.
3
Chapter 1
The disaster at Bhopal
The city of Bhopal
Bhopal is an ancient city originally founded in the 11th century by Rajah
Bhoj, a member of the Hindu Parmara dynasty, which for centuries
dominated central India. At the eastern extremity of his kingdom Bhoj
created a large artiicial lake and on its banks, to monitor the border,
he built the city of Bhojpal. Its fortunes were closely tied to that of the
dynasty and as this declined so did the city. It was re-founded in the
18th century but now as the semi-sovereign city-state of Bhopal and was
ruled by male (and, famously, female) Muslim Nahwabs, until 1949
when its sovereignty was formally ceded to the Democratic Republic of
India.
In 1956 Bhopal, ‘the city of the lakes’, became the capital of Madhya
Pradesh, the newly created and largest state in India. Not surprisingly
there was soon a burgeoning government sector, which became the
city’s largest employer and producer of goods and services and, indeed,
the major consumer of much of these same goods and services. With
state support there were also rapid developments in the manufacture
4
of cotton, textile, jute and electrical products. Most of this development
occurred in ‘New Market’ or ‘New Bhopal’, somewhat south of what now
came to be called ‘Old Bhopal’.
This was also the time of the ‘Green Revolution’, which dramatically
improved the productivity of India’s agricultural sector. There was a
marked increase in the production of food, which was seen as due to the
use of new strains of cereal, new forms of irrigation, new fertilizers and
pesticides, mono-cropping, and the extensive use of farm machinery.
The larger farms facilitated, and their owners particularly beneitted
inancially from, economies of scale, and from the opening up and
greater geographical reach of impersonal markets. Consumers were
encouraged to look to the market for the necessities of life, farmers
to orient to it to provide land, employees, manufacturing goods, and
customers, and workers to rely on it for their incomes.
The play of market forces allowed the better-capitalized farmers to
purchase farm machinery and to buy land from other farmers who
wished to/needed to sell their small, ‘ineficient’ farms. The latter farmers
were thereby released from the obligations imposed by traditional
5
communitarian Indian village life and could, if they so wished, seek
work elsewhere. “[B] etween 1961 and 1971 the number of agricultural
labourers in India increased by 70 percent [over 20 million], while the
number of farmers decreased by 16 percent (15 million)” (Everest 1986:
110).
This modernizing Indian society required a commodiication of social
relations, already well developed in many urban areas where machinery,
fertilizers and pesticides were imported and sometimes manufactured.
If modernization brought with it the possibility of new ways of living
in, and thinking about, the world, it also generally increased inequality
(Freebairn 1995: 266), removed traditional forms of protection and
security, and exposed populations to new dangers on a massive scale.
The company: UCC, UCE and UCIL
What follows is a brief history of the relationship between the American
parent, UCC and the Indian subsidiary, UCIL. The story begins in the
late nineteenth and early twentieth century, a period of technological
change, economic growth, a proliferation of companies and also the
consolidation of companies through acquisitions and mergers. Of
particular interest to us are the relationships between a number of
companies in the burgeoning American electrical industry; these
companies included – Linde Air Products (1907) which produced
liquid oxygen; Prest-O-Lite, (1906) manufacturer of calcium carbide;
Electro-Metallurgical (1906) a mining company; EverReady (1905)
manufacturer of batteries and lashlights; Union Carbide (1898) and
National Carbon (1888) both of which made carbon rods for arc lights
and electrodes for electric arc furnaces.
In 1905, National Carbon began to export its manufactured goods to
India and in 1913 created an Indian subsidiary also named National
Carbon and 100% owned by the American parent. It is likely that the
latter’s afiliation with and inally purchase of Ever Ready in 1913
(allowing for a dramatic expansion of their inventory) contributed to
the decision to create the subsidiary.
6
Four years later, in 1917, all of these companies became a part of the
conglomerate, Union Carbon and Carbide Corporation (UCCC). This
consolidation left the relationship between the subsidiary and the
parent company relatively unchanged.
Over the next 80 or so years the parent company and the subsidiary
mutated – through name changes, buyouts, amalgamations and
restructurings – into different forms of organization and company
names, but always sustaining a similar asymmetrical relationship
between the American parent company and the Indian subsidiary
which it owned and controlled. Another important continuity was that
throughout this period, the Indian company’s core business was irst the
sale of, and subsequently also the manufacture of, Eveready batteries
and allied goods. Eveready products became extremely well known
and well regarded by most Indian people and this had something of a
halo effect on other products made by the same corporation. UCC also
retained its interest in electrical goods but it was a much more diverse
company with another major interest, chemicals. We will return to this
below
In 1957, reluctantly UCCC bowed to the provisions of India’s 1956
Company Act and accepted that its Indian subsidiary, now named
National Carbon India Limited, a privately owned company, of which
it still owned 100%, should go public by issuing 800,000 shares
(equivalent to 40% of its equity) available for purchase only by Indian
investors. Individual and institutional Indian investors purchased the
shares, leaving UCCC with 60% of the company’s equity.
In the same year UCCC reorganized and refounded itself as Union
Carbide Corporation (UCC) and in 1957 its Indian subsidiary did the
same, becoming Union Carbide India Limited (UCIL).
UCC had become increasingly involved in the development of pesticides
and at its Institute Chemical Facility, in West Virginia, it began to
manufacture the carbamate pesticides Temic (Aldicarb) and Sevin
(Carbaryl). Although these sold well in the US, UCC came to identify
7
India as a potentially strong market and in the early 1960s it exported
to India 1,400 Metric Tons (MTs) of Sevin. Soon after, another 850 MTs
of Sevin were exported but this time as a gift paid for by the Red Cross
and the U.S. A.I.D. Food for Peace Program.
In a full-page advertisement (see below), ‘Science Helps to Build a New
India”, in National Geographic magazine, UCC announced, “Union
Carbide, working with Indian engineers and technicians... recently
made available its vast resources to help build a major chemicals and
plastics plant near Bombay”. The plant was to be owned and operated
by UCIL which while remaining the major manufacturer and distributor
of batteries and allied products as the Carbide Chemicals Company
(CHEMCO) was now a major distributor and producer of chemicals.
This area of its activities was given a major boost with the actual
opening of the Bombay plant in 1961. Moreover, it was there that in
1966 it pioneered India’s petrochemical industry by installing its irst
Naphtha cracker (D’Silva 2006).
In 1966, in order to refocus, integrate and regionally co-ordinate its vast
array of global interests, UCC created three new large companies, Union
Carbide Europe, Union Carbide Pan America and Union Carbide Eastern
(UCE). Each of the three companies reported directly to UCC and was
responsible for overseeing its interests and equity in the companies
in its region. UCE was responsible for overseeing UCIL and the latter
generally reported directly to UCE. In 1966, UCC had also created a
global Agricultural Products Division and UCIL soon followed suit by
creating its own such Division to which it assigned the Bhopal plant.
(Prior to 1967, the superior corporate body to UCIL will be referred to as
UCC, and from 1967 it will generally be referred to as UCC/UCE.)
In 1966, UCIL applied for a licence to build in Bhopal a facility for
formulating the pesticide Sevin – this was a ‘low tech’, relatively lowrisk process, involving the addition of chemically inert materials to the
‘moderately toxic’ carbaryl – and, when, a year later this was granted,
it immediately began to build the facility on a 5-acre site near the
8
9
railway terminal in Old Bhopal. At that time the population of Bhopal
was approximately 300,000. In 1970, UCIL applied for a new licence
this time to manufacture carbaryl using an MIC-based process. After
long, drawn-out negotiations, it was agreed that UCIL would go ahead
with the Sevin plant by expanding its original facility from 5 acres to
more than 80 acres. Construction of the various components of the
pesticide manufacturing plant began in 1976, and in 1981 the plant
began to produce MIC and Sevin.
It is important to note that by 1984 the total population of Bhopal had
grown to approximately 800,000, with 200,000 people living near the
UCIL chemical facility and particularly to its South, near the railway
terminal and the bus station. Few of the inhabitants of this area had very
marketable skills. If they supported their families by paid employment,
their work required relatively little formal training and they earned
low wages. Many were underemployed or unemployed. Generally their
housing was temporary and often built on squatted land. An advantage
of this area was that it included the railway terminal and the bus station,
allowing its inhabitants to go far aield in their search for work. Its
greatest disadvantage would turn out to be its proximity to the UCIL
facility.
The poisonous cloud and its victims
At one o’clock in the morning of December 3rd 1984, while there were
a few night owls working or socializing in Old Bhopal, most of the
inhabitants – boys and girls, mothers and fathers, grandmothers and
grandfathers – had long been asleep. Unbeknown to any of them, the
nearby chemical plant had begun to spew out a cocktail of gases, vapours
and liquids, forming a large low-lying cloud, which spread out from the
plant, particularly in south and southeasterly directions.
Some of those living near the chemical plant may have heard the sound
of its public warning siren. Others, quite early on, detected a faint odour
of gas. But the sounding of the alarm was typically inconsequential and
10
11
there was nothing unusual about leaks of gas that temporarily irritated
the eyes. There was no obvious reason why those who lived nearby
should feel that they needed to evacuate the area; there had never been
any rehearsals for evacuation because there was no evacuation plan.
Local people had no way of knowing how to prepare for or respond to
any gas leak. They had never been told about the toxicity of the chemicals
used by UCIL.
Suddenly the white cloud of highly
concentrated gas began to blanket
the area, enveloping those out in
the streets and insidiously creeping
under the doors and through the
gaps in the walls of the improvised
dwellings typical of the area. People
began to ind it hard to breathe.
Some were immediately overtaken
by respiratory paralysis and died in
their beds. Eyes watered and burned,
everybody was coughing, some were
vomiting, some collapsed – and many
of these, too, would die. Some led out
to the streets, parents scooping up
their children while doing so. Those
with the greatest resources monopolized the transportation, which
would take them to safety. The vast majority, if they could run, began
to run – hither and thither, in any direction that would leave behind
the poisonous gas, at least so they hoped and prayed. Some ran not
into safety but into even more of the gas (Mukherjee 2010). Some of
the ‘lucky’ ones who successfully ran away from the gas cloud still did
not escape tragedy: Ganga Bai, a twenty-eight year old mother, had
managed to pick up her two-year-old daughter to run for several miles
to safety – only to ind that the child she was carrying was dead in her
arms (Shrivistava 1987: xvi-xvii). Others found on their return that
those they had been forced to leave behind were dead or permanently
disabled.
12
Many made their way to one of Bhopal’s four main hospitals. Although
medical staff immediately began to treat patients, they had no information
on the composition of the gas, the speciic harms it inlicted, nor the
appropriate antidotes. They improvised, guessing which treatments
were appropriate: for breathing problems trying a combination of
oxygen, bronchodilators, diuretics and corticosteroids, and for eye
problems little more than water. The scale of the task overwhelmed the
duty doctors and the nursing staff. Many of the sick, some close to death,
were piled on top of each other in the corridors, amongst the dead.
Other acute symptoms included burning in the respiratory tract and
eyes, blepharospasm, breathlessness, stomach pains and vomiting.
The main causes of death were choking, relexogenic circulatory
collapse and pulmonary oedema.
After some four hours, the gas began to dissipate but the damage it was
doing to the bodies and minds of the people of Bhopal was only just
beginning. Eventually, the duty doctors at the hospital nearest the plant,
the 850-bed Hamidia Hospital, managed to get hold of UCIL’s medical
oficer. The latter set the tone for UCIL and UCC personnel in that, while
some of the information he provided was accurate, it was so incomplete
and intermingled with so much incorrect information that, in effect,
it was misleading. While he identiied Methyl Isocyanate, MIC, as
the leaking gas, he also claimed that it was not poisonous – rather, a
form of teargas, at worst an irritant. He further claimed that there was
no speciic antidote for MIC, but washing out the eyes and the mouth
with water would be enough to remove any dangerous effects (LaPierre
and Moro 2002: 327). In fact, MIC is extremely toxic. Washing the eyes
might provide some immediate relief, but MIC tends to stay in the body.
This mattered a great deal, because while it is in the body it continues to
inlict damage and the longer it stays in the body the more permanent
is the damage. He did not warn them that in addition to MIC there was
likely to be present in the gaseous cocktail that had spewed from the
plant such gases as ammonia, phosgene, monomethylamine, hydrogen
cyanide, carbon monoxide, and nitrous oxide, each of which had known
and speciic toxic effects. It is impossible to know if his inaccuracies
13
were part of a conscious strategy, or if he misled them, at least in part, as
a consequence of his ignorance. But if he was, indeed, ignorant, he could
have been ‘willfully’ or inadvertently so, but in either case ignorance is
no justiication for making unfounded claims. Whatever the reasons, he
provided the hospital staff with inaccurate information.
MIC is a volatile, highly reactive and toxic chemical with a very low
Threshold Limit Value (TLV). A TLV for a substance is the maximum
level of its concentration in the atmosphere at which it is claimed
it is still safe to breathe for up to eight hours; this value is measured
in parts per million (ppm). The TLV for MIC was .02 ppm: and the
TLV documentation was readily available at the Bhopal site. The TLV
had been determined by the American Conference of Governmental
Industrial Hygienists (ACGIH) using very limited scientiic data,
including some data from a number of studies UCC had funded at the
Carnegie Mellon Institute; but access to this by other interested parties,
including the Government of India, was denied in the name of trade
secrecy (UCC 1963a,b, 1966, 1970, 1971). Sharan and Gopalkrishnan
(1997: 135-41) have calculated that those affected most immediately by
the gas were exposed to a concentration 2500 times its TLV, while even
those exposed to it considerably later faced levels of 50 times or more
its TLV.
A few days after the gas leak, UCC sent a technical team to investigate
the causes of the accident, and an international team of ‘top medical
experts’ to work with the local Bhopal medical community and to
produce a medical report on the effects of the gas release. One pulmonary
specialist, Thomas Petty, claimed that victims of the gas release were
“recovering rapidly”. Another pulmonary specialist, Dr. Hans Weill,
said that most “have an encouraging prognosis and.. would recover
fully”. These predictions proved worthless. Nevertheless, there may
have been valuable clinical information within these reports – but they
were never made available to the Indian government, inhibiting the
development of adequate long-term treatment. The effects of the gases
on future generations was and remains unclear, even as health effects
14
manifest themselves with disturbing regularity among the children of
gas-exposed parents.,Almost half the pregnant mothers exposed to
the gas were to lose their foetuses. Since the disaster, the city has been
plagued with an epidemic of cancers, menstrual disorders and births of
children with severe health problems (Varma and Gust 1993).
Estimates of how many were affected immediately and in the longer
term by the gas cloud vary considerably. Initially the Indian Government
stated that there had been 1,700 immediate deaths, a igure subsequently
revised upwards to 3,329. In 2004, an Amnesty International report
marking the twentieth anniversary of the disaster claimed a minimum of
7,000 immediate deaths, a subsequent 15,000, with 100,000 ‘survivors’
unable to work again (Amnesty International, 2004). The Sambhavna
clinic, established in Bhopal to treat the gas victims, has estimated that,
15
“Half a million people were exposed to the gas and 25,000 have died to
date as a result of their exposure. More than 120,000 people still suffer
from ailments caused by the accident and the subsequent pollution
at the plant site” (The Bhopal Medical Appeal, n.d.). It is no surprise,
but nevertheless scandalous, that the lower igure of 3,329 dead is the
one that UCCIL, UCC and Dow – the global chemical company which
effectively took over UCC in 2001 – all accept.
Even if the lowest of these estimates is accepted, it is clear that the
disaster was one of almost unimaginable proportions and with longlasting and lingering negative effects. Various chemicals known to cause
cancer, birth defects and brain damage continue to be found in local
groundwater and wells (The Bhopal Medical Appeal, n.d.). These have
never been subject to any sustained ‘clean up’ operation.
Injustice upon injustice: London 2012 and the
enduring legacies of Bhopal
Although assuming the assets and liabilities of UCC in a hostile merger
in 2001, Dow Chemical Corporation has consistently refused to accept
responsibility for the clean up of the Bhopal area. The issue of Dow’s
ownership of this toxic legacy has been a focus of campaigns since that
year – with a 2012 Wikileaks release revealing the company as a client of
the “global intelligence company” Stratfor, contracted to monitor those
campaigning on the issues of Bhopal (Chatterjee, 2012). Moreover, at
the end of 2011, Dow’s relationship to the Bhopal plant erupted into
the headlines in the UK and beyond as that company’s pride-of-place
sponsorship role in the London 2012 Olympic games was revealed and
subjected to sharp criticism.
In this context, it is worth noting what the Olympic movement claims
its Games are about. The irst of the seven ‘Fundamental Principles of
Olympism’ is, according to the Olympic Charter, that “Blending sport
with culture and education, Olympism seeks to create a way of life
based on the joy of effort, the educational value of good example, social
16
responsibility and respect for universal fundamental ethical principles”.
The seventh and inal principle is “Belonging to the Olympic Movement
requires compliance with the Olympic Charter” (International Olympic
Committee, 2011)
But Dow’s involvement evidences no ‘social responsibility’, no ‘joy’, no
‘good example’, no ‘respect for universal fundamental ethical principles’
– in short, no ‘compliance’ with the Charter. If these commitments are
to be more than weasly words underpinning a festival of corporate
sponsorship, then the position of Dow as “the oficial Chemistry
Company of the Olympic Movement” (London 2012 Press Ofice, 2011),
and its provision of a high-proile ‘wrap’ that will surround the Olympic
Stadium during the Games, should never have been entertained.
On announcing the venture, Lord Sebastian Coe, former Olympic goldmedallist and ex-Tory MP, then Chair of the London 2012 Organising
Committee, stated:
“The stadium will look spectacular at Games time and having the
wrap is the icing on the cake. I’m delighted that Dow, as one of
the newer worldwide partners of the Olympic Movement, will
be providing it and importantly doing it in a sustainable way.
It relects our vision and is a real statement of intent from Dow
about their commitment to the Games.” (London 2012 Press
Ofice, 2011).
No such vision was relected. For Dow has consistently refused, and
continues to refuse, to meet its obligations to the people of Bhopal.
When challenged on this, Lord Coe sought to provide a smokescreen for
Dow, thus:
“I am the grandson of an Indian so I’m not completely unaware
of this as an issue. But I am satisied that at no time did Dow
operate, own or were involved with the plant at the time of the
disaster or the time of the full and inal settlement.” (Coe, cited in
Gibson, 2011).
17
This rather begs the question, “whose chemicals are causing the
current poisoning” in Bhopal? (Sinha, 2012). Indeed, Coe was at best
disingenuous to imply Dow has no responsibilities for the suffering
of the people of Bhopal. When Dow bought Union Carbide in 2001, it
surely inherited its liabilities as well as its assets – morally, at least.
These liabilities are signiicant and ongoing. Nor has there been, as
Coe claims, a “full and inal settlement”, which he surely knows, and as
attested to through the ongoing struggles of a number of campaigning
organisations.
The fact that this issue is not settled is evidenced through the Indian
legal process itself of course, as we noted at the outset of this chapter
– with Warren Anderson, American CEO of UCC at the time of the gas
leak, UCC itself and Union Carbide Eastern (UCE), another subsidiary
of UCC with oversight over UCIL, remaining as ‘absconders’ from court.
As Indra Sinha has said of the struggle against injustice after injustice:
“(F)or the beneit of Dow and Coe, here is my own deepest understanding
of what Bhopal is about, and the reason why I will never abandon the
people of Bhopal.
“A great catastrophe, followed by years of illness, poverty and injustice,
can overwhelm and crush the human spirit, or can enable ordinary
people to discover that they are extraordinary. Such people ind that
they have the grit to survive, the deiance to face their persecutors, and
the courage to ight back. Out of shared struggle, even in the midst of
terrible sickness, comes strength, the joy of friendship, the realisation
that they are not weak, powerless or contemptible, but possessed of
great power – the power to bring about political change, to do real good
in their community and in the world.
“No one knows how this story will end, but it won’t be over until
we enter and become part of it.” (Sinha, 2012)
18
Chapter 2
Explaining the disaster
UCC, UCE, UCIL and the disaster
UCC (Union Carbide Corporation) responded to the disaster by making
a series of public, defensive, claims: that the disaster was totally
unprecedented and unanticipated so it was not surprising that an
“evacuation or safety plan had never been developed”; that they had
not located the MIC plant at Bhopal “for reasons of economy or to avoid
safety standards”; that they had the same safety standards in their
American and overseas operations, “in India or Brazil or someplace
else … same equipment, same design, same everything” (Everest 1986:
47-8). UCC claimed that its safety standards were identical to the
standards at Institute, West Virginia; that the plant had an excellent
safety record; and that the plant’s Standard Operating Procedures
(SOPs) – UCC’s responsibility – were basically sound. At the same time
they tried to distance themselves from anything that be might found to
be problematic at the Bhopal plant.
Hence, they also asserted: that the production of MIC [methyl
isocyanate] in India, the siting of the plant and the quality of the
materials used, were all the responsibility of UCIL and the Indian State;
that exclusively Indian nationals managed the Bhopal plant; that UCIL
(Union Carbide India Ltd) was an independent company responsible for
its own affairs; that India’s cultural backwardness was responsible for
the poor maintenance and management, poor planning procedures and
the inadequate enforcement of safety regulations; and that the ‘accident’
was due to sabotage by an Indian national. Even now, in 2012, UCC ‘s
representations of the causes, course and consequences of the disaster,
its denial of responsibility and attempts to shift blame to Indians and
India, and in particular an Indian saboteur remain the same – see the
so-called Bhopal Information Center, established by UCC, at www.
bhopal.com.
19
Continuing the history of UCC and UCIL
In November 1973 UCC/CE and UCIL signed a Design Transfer
Agreement, Article IV of which noted that UCC was providing “the
best manufacturing information available,” and a Technical Services
Agreement. These would enable UCIL to build a Sevin plant at Bhopal.
The design was loosely based on a plant in Institute and while it allowed
carbaryl (Sevin) to be produced in small or large batches by using
chemical reactions between Alpha-Naphthol (aka 1-Naphthol) and
MIC, “for economic reasons”, both the Alpha-Naphthol and MIC would
be produced onsite – in the case of the latter, in such large quantities
that special, large storage tanks would be required. UCC/UCE and UCIL
agreed that the estimated cost of the plant should be revised down by
UCIL to $20 million.
In 1974 UCIL applied for a new licence, this time to produce up to 5,250
tons of Sevin in Bhopal annually. In 1975 the Government of India
(GOI) agreed to provide an industrial (i.e. manufacturing) licence,
but again included the condition that approximately a quarter of any
monies required for the MIC/Sevin plant had to be raised by a new UCIL
share issue in India. It estimated that the plant’s total cost would be
‘approximately $26,500,000’ and it authorised the issue of 3,294,500
new shares to Indian residents to raise ‘Rs 527.12 lakhs, approximately
22. 3 per cent of capital inancing’ [or $6.2m] which would bring “down
UCC’s equity in UCIL to 50.9 per cent” (D’Silva 2006: 51). In order to
accommodate the new Alpha-Naphthol, MIC, and Carbaryl plants and
the attendant increased number of personnel, transportation, and so
on. UCIL estimated that the chemical facility would need to increase
in size from 5 acres to more than 80 acres. In 1967 there were only
300,000 people in Bhopal; by 1975 there were nearly 500,000 and
shanty towns were springing up near the railway terminal and the bus
station and thus near the UCIL facility. Nevertheless, UCIL proposed
that they should expand the size of their then current site by leasing
more land in its immediate vicinity. They were aware that to stay
on this site would violate the requirement of the 1975 Bhopal
Development Plan, that such “obnoxious industries” should
20
be in an industrial zone 25 kms away from the city centre,
and that it also meant that they would ignore the order of the
commissioner and director of town and country planning for
the state that the manufacturing plant should be located well
away from the city. UCIL’s response was to lobby the Madhya Pradesh
and Federal authorities to overrule the Municipality; their lobbying
efforts met with success since the state planning board classiied the
plant as “general industry” rather than “hazardous industry” in a 1976
review. This decision allowed both ongoing activities and the new
construction to go ahead at the existing location (Varma and Varma
2005: 4).
After this decision was made, in 1977/1978, the GOI and UCC agreed
that UCC’s equity would decrease from 60% to 50.9% (D’Silva 2006:
37), albeit retaining a majority ownership; new shares in UCIL were
released for purchase by investors who already owned shares, be they
individuals or Indian institutions, including different organs of the GOI.
Construction of the enlarged plant began in 1979 under the supervision
of the Bombay ofice of the British engineering company, Humphreys
and Glasgow. Within a year the plant was completed and a year later
it was producing MIC and the pesticide Sevin. This was a signiicant
increase in the scale and complexity of the chemical facility and
should have been accompanied by a greater degree of planning, tighter
organization, increased monitoring, regular and timely maintenance
and an increase in security. In 1984 UCC still controlled 50.9% of
UCIL’s equity.
Revisiting the Bhopal facility
Since 1976, workers and their unions had expressed concern about
safety and health hazards at the Bhopal plant. These concerns became
more pressing after the MIC and Sevin plants went into production.
There were three serious leaks from these plants between 1981 and early
1982, killing one worker and hospitalizing a number of others.
21
In May 1982, a UCC safety team monitored the plant and found 61
hazards, 30 of them considered major, of which 11 were in the phosgene/
MIC unit; areas of concern were described as “procedures training and
enforcement together with attention to the equipment and mechanical
deiciencies” (Everest 1987: 56). The recommendations of the report
were not implemented: production simply carried on as dangerously as
before. There were two more serious incidents that year.
Following two decades of huge growth, encouraged by government
“subsidies, tax breaks, low-cost loans and lax safety regulations”,
the pesticides market in India had, by the end of the 1970’s, become
extremely competitive. Indeed, by the beginning of the 1980’s, “pesticide
demand in India had collapsed” (Shrivastava 1993: 258-60). This
collapse was in part structural, due to the inlux of a great deal of agrochemical capital, leading to intense competition. But it was exacerbated
by more contingent factors: agricultural production in India declined
severely in 1980, and only recovered mildly in the next three years;
weather conditions in 1982 and 1983 caused many farmers to abandon
temporarily their use of pesticides (Shrivastava 1992: 30-5). The Bhopal
facility broke even in 1981, but after that began to lose money.
In May 1983 the two unions at the Bhopal plant were forced to sign a
‘memorandum of agreement’ with UCIL allowing cutbacks in stafing,
and “eliminating such work practices which are not conducive to
eficient working of the plant” (URG 1985a). By 1984, the workforce at
the Bhopal facility was roughly half its 1980 size. New operatives were
less qualiied and less well trained than before, and 150 operatives were
taken from their trained details and used as loating labour (ICFTU/ICEF
1985). The number of supervisors was halved – meaning that they often
had to manage more than one plant and had less specialist knowledge
(Chouhan 1984: 12). The number of ield maintenance staff was halved,
and, as maintenance became more and more sporadic, many problems
were undiagnosed, with defective parts neither repaired nor replaced
the chemical plants began to function poorly, making safe, eficient
production dificult. Instrumentation became increasingly unreliable,
22
and safety and back up systems were increasingly in disrepair. Since
SOPs were designed on the basis of fully functioning systems and
adequate numbers of personnel, their absence forced both operators
and supervisors to improvise solutions to problems, always then with
the potential to create new problems.
23
Pesticide production: in theory and in practice
The Carbaryl process in use in Bhopal involved a number of processes:
a) it began with coke and oxygen producing Carbon Monoxide; b) the
Carbon Monoxide interacted with Chlorine to produce Phosgene; c)
puriied Phosgene and Methylamine, with Chloroform as a solvent,
were reacted together to form MIC; d) Naphtholene was sulfonated to
produce Alpha-Naphthol with a toxic side product, Beta-Naphthol, the
removal of which proved intractable, hence the process was abandoned
and UCIL had to rely on imports from UCC; e) MIC reacted with AlphaNaphthol to produce Carbaryl; f) Carbaryl was then formulated to
produce Sevin. While only a small proportion of any batch of the MIC
could be used immediately, the “economics” of this production process
favoured its production in large batches. As a result, the design included
2 large 15,000-gallon tanks where the MIC could be stored for future
use and a third 15,000-gallon tank, which, while usually used for the
temporary storage of “impure” chemicals, could also be used as an
overlow tank. Our focus here is primarily on the MIC, the MIC storage
tanks, the Carbaryl/Sevin plants and their interconnections.
Before returning to events on the night of the disaster, further
contextualising comments are useful. First, between 1980-84, the entire
work crew in the MIC unit dropped from 13 to 6 and their training was
cut back from 6 months to 15 days. Second, the UCC safety manual
instructed operators to make sure that the two MIC storage tanks (E610, E- 611) were no more than half full, and/or to keep one of the tanks
empty at all times, and/or to transfer some of the MIC to the standby tank,
E-619. The operators were instructed to keep each “tank’s temperature
below 15 (degrees) C (59 degrees F) and preferably at about 0o C (32 o
F)”, since MIC was signiicantly less reactive at that temperature and, in
part for the same reason, it was necessary to maintain “an atmosphere
of dry nitrogen, under slight pressure, [of approximately 2 pounds per
square inch (psi)] in the vapor space of the storage tank” (cited in D’Silva
2006: 54-5). This pressure also helped exclude potential contaminants.
Increasing the nitrogen pressure was integral to the movement of MIC
from the tanks to the Carbaryl unit.
24
On the night of December 2nd/3rd 1984, there were startling
discrepancies between what was mandated by the safety manual and
by the SOPs and the actual condition of the MIC plant, the storage
tanks, and the Carbaryl plant and their chemicals’ transferral systems
(pipes, valves, and so on). First, Tank E-610 was not half empty but
almost full with 42 tons of MIC, Tank E-611 contained 20 tons of MIC
and even Tank E-619 was not empty but contained one ton of MIC. All
three tanks and the transfer systems were compromised by extensive
rust and corrosion. The transfer of the gas from Tank E-60 was made
by dificult by the excessively low pressure of the Nitrogen and the fact
that it had a defective valve (carbon steel valves were used at the factory,
even though they corrode when exposed to acid). These deiciencies also
made it dangerously easy for external contaminants to enter the tank,
relating the potential for dangerous exothermic chemical reactions. The
contents of these tanks had not been analysed since October 26th, the
date the last batch of MIC had been produced and stored. According to
the operators, the MIC tank pressure gauge had been malfunctioning
for roughly a week. Other tanks were used rather than repairing the
gauge. The build-up in temperature and pressure is believed to have
affected the magnitude of the gas release. The readings of pressure and
temperature for these tanks should have been taken every two hours,
with any observed deviations being dealt with immediately; in fact, the
frequency of readings had been changed from every 2 hours to every 8
hours. Some of the meters were not working properly.
Then, even though it was winter in Bhopal, the lowest expected ambient
temperature was only 15o C. The tanks were not being cooled so the
internal temperature was around 20o C. This amount of stored MIC was
in violation of all UCC safety standards, as was storing it above 0o C. The
reason for this high temperature was that after the last batch of MIC
had been produced and stored on October 26th, the Works Manager,
decided to “shut down the principal safety system... because the factory
was no longer active, these systems were no longer needed” and “no
accident could occur in a factory that was no longer operating” (Lapierre
and Moro 2002: 213). Consequences of this shutdown included saving
25
minimal costs by no longer refrigerating the MIC tanks – the refrigerant
was later pumped out of the system and used elsewhere in the plant.
The lare tower was also taken ofline for maintenance and repairs, as
was the decontamination scrubber. Shrivastava described the plant at
this point thus:
“The working environment of the Bhopal plant tolerated
negligence and a lack of safety consciousness among workers and
managers. Employee morale was low because the plant was losing
money and being considered for divestment.” (Shrivistava 1987:
41)
Between 7-8 p.m. on the night of December 2nd, a relatively new and
under- trained worker who had transferred MIC from the storage tanks
into the carbaryl reactor earlier that day was given an additional task, one
usually undertaken by maintenance staff: he was to use water to wash
chemicals out of the pipes used for the earlier transfer, still attached
at one end to the MIC storage tanks. He succeeded in lushing out the
chemicals, but was unable to open all the stopcocks to get rid of all the
water. Nor had he been told that a key safety measure was to seal pipes
by inserting metal slip binds at each end. He reported to his supervisor
that he could not rid the pipes of all the water, but the supervisor told
him to continue lushing the pipes and keep the water running because
the night shift would sort out the problem. The supervisor and the
operator left when the night shift crew arrived. The latter also tried to
empty the pipes, but failed and gave up. Water had now been running
for at least four hours and some of it entered Tank E-610 unhindered
by slip binds (not inserted), a valve (defective) or nitrogen pressure
(too low to inhibit the movement of water), so starting an exothermic
reaction which in turn produced others which ultimately produced the
release of gas. UCC disputes the accuracy of the whole of this account;
rather, it claims that water had been deliberately added to tank E-610.
Workers reported smelling MIC, but could not locate its source. The
MIC tank alarms had not worked for four years, thus the dangerous
26
practice of the human nose being the technology used to detect MIC
– though it is only at 50 times its LTV that its smell can be detected.
Workers informed a supervisor of the leak, who was sceptical that it
was MIC and postponed investigating its source until after a tea break.
Eventually, as the smell of MIC grew ever stronger, they informed their
production manager that large quantities of gas were escaping (he
ordered them to activate the lare tower), and they also called in the
ire service. As the production manager should have known but in any
case was promptly reminded, the lare tower was out of commission – it
had been dismantled because its pipes were corroded and had not been
replaced.
Fire ighters tried to douse the gas but the water pressure available for
the iremen’s hoses was insuficient for the water to reach the stack from
which the gas was escaping. By then, Tank 610 was rumbling, concrete
cracking, and its temperature was about 200 Celsius, the pressure at
over 180 psi, 140 psi in excess of the tank’s rupture disk limit. Gases,
vapours and liquids burst past the rupture disk, shot through the relief
valve vent header, then by the vent gas scrubber, which was on standby
and was not in working order, bypassed the inoperative lare tower and
into the atmosphere. The operators could not dilute the MIC in tank E
610 since the tank was already overly full, while the emergency dump
tank had a defective gauge indicating that it was also 22% full.
Clearly, badly designed and maintained equipment, lack of spare parts,
inadequate SOPs and untrained staff all contributed to the incident.
Important too were ad hoc modiications to the plant designs, such as a
jumper line that may well have been the means by which water entered
the MIC tank. An even greater problem was the lack of preparedness
for such a disaster, amounting to absolute indifference to the safety of
the public. UCC argued that most of these deiciencies were the fault
of UCIL, its workers, and the Indian government and, of course, the
saboteur.
27
Chapter 3
Was the disaster
‘unforeseeable’?
Were there discrepancies in regard to the standards of worker health and
safety and environmental protection between different Union Carbide
Corporation (UCC) facilities – whether directly owned and controlled
by UCC itself or by one or more of its subsidiaries? If there were such
discrepancies, is it reasonable to suggest that UCC and/or UCE and/or
UCIL either knew about them or should have known about them? In
particular, were there safer ways of making Sevin?
Bhopal and Institute
The shiny new MIC plant at Bhopal
28
One way to explore this latter, crucial question is by establishing whether
or not MIC and/or Sevin were produced in the 1980s more safely at
other UCC facilities. The irst and most obvious comparison is with the
MIC/Sevin plant at Institute, West Virginia.
While large amounts of MIC were stored at both Bhopal and Institute,
at the latter the storage tanks were much larger, there was an additional
dedicated dump system with a capacity of 42,000 gallons and an
additional and more powerful emergency back-up system. But there
were differences of another kind. As we have seen, the emergency safety
systems at Bhopal were either out of commission or turned off but
none of them, if they had been switched on and working, would have
had the capacity to fulill their tasks: gas detection instrumentation
was too insensitive, the refrigeration plant could not keep the MIC at
a low enough temperature, the vent gas scrubber and lare tower were
incapable of either dealing with the volume of escaped chemicals or with
multi-phase rather than just gaseous emissions. Finally, the Bhopal
storage tanks were of a type unsuitable for Indian climatic conditions.
In other words, there was a mismatch between the potential demands
that might be made on the safety systems and their capacity to deal
with these. This was a design law premised on a willingness to take
unconscionable risks: the safety of India and Indians was taken much
less seriously than that of America and Americans.
Given the degree of control exercised by UCC/UCE over UCIL (Union
Carbide India Ltd.), there is every reason to believe that it not only
knew of but also allowed, or even approved of, the “memorandum of
agreement” signed in May 1983 between UCIL and the hourly paid
plant operatives and their union. We referred to this in Chapter 2, and
here we wish to focus on the following provisions:
“The selection, placement, distribution, transfer, promotion of
personnel, ixing of working hours and laying down of working
programmes, planning and control of factory operations,
introduction of new or improved production methods, expansion
29
of production facilities, establishment of quality standards,
determination and assignment of workload, evaluation and
classiication of jobs and establishment of production standards,
maintenance of eficiency, maintenance of discipline in the factory
¼ are exclusively rights and responsibilities of the Management».
(Cited in URG 1985a: 12)
In practice this meant not merely a change but a reduction in standards,
and that, even if changes violated SOPs, management had to be obeyed.
Thus, contra the claims of Anderson and others, in many ways the
Bhopal plant was an inferior plant to the UCC plant at Institute, West
Virginia.
Themistocles D’Silva, in his The Black Box of Bhopal: a Closer Look
at the World’s Deadliest Industrial Disaster, alleges that to compare
Bhopal and Institute is inappropriate because while the “technology sold
to UCIL included process improvements made over the irst MIC plant
at Institute, West Virginia”, the original plant was “built in 1965-1966”.
The “MIC plant at Institute” was built much later, in 1978, and “is more
streamlined and is a fully automated factory” (D’Silva 2006: 49). But,
while accepting that some differences were due to the fact that these
were based in part on fundamentally different designs, nevertheless
some improvements, for example, enlarged MIC storage tanks, an
additional dedicated dump system with a capacity of 42,000 gallons
and an additional and more powerful emergency back-up system, could
have been easily incorporated into the older design, particularly given
that work on the Bhopal MIC and Sevin plants did not even start until
1979.
The sabotage theory
This is a useful place to address the question of the ‘sabotage theory’,
which played a key role in UCC’s ‘deinitive version’ of the sequence of
events that led to the leak at the plant. According to this ‘theory’, on
the night of the incident a disgruntled employee who was not on duty
removed a pressure gauge and then used a hose to put water into an
30
MIC tank; his intention was to spoil a batch of chemicals rather than
create a disaster. This version of events, circulated to the media and to
UCC personnel, was most fully articulated when it formed the basis of
a paper presented by ‘independent consultant’ Dr. Ashok Kalelkar at a
London conference in May 1988 (Kalelkar 1988). Kalelkar had in fact
been a member of the team organized by UCC in March 1985, which
even then had mooted the possibility of sabotage, although a lack of
evidence meant, it claimed, that “it was unable to develop this theory
further at the time”.
Yet this ‘deinitive version’ was only the last in a series of such ‘theories’
involving alleged saboteurs. First, it had been claimed that the disaster
itself was the result of the actions of careless or malicious employees
who had placed a water line where a nitrogen line should have been
used. The New York Times, on 26 March 1985, pointed out that neither
an accidental nor a deliberate incorrect coupling were possible since
the relevant nitrogen and water lines were of a different colour and the
nozzles were of different sizes. That same day Union Carbide Chairman,
Warren Anderson, had to withdraw the accusation at Congressional
Hearings when he admitted that he had no evidence of sabotage. Then,
between July 31, 1985 and January 3, 1986, UCC claimed that a group of
Sikh extremists called the Black June Movement were responsible. But
no such group was ever identiied in any context other than allegedly
putting up posters about Union Carbide; moreover, it was virtually
impossible for anybody to actually plan a disaster of this kind. Not
surprisingly, this claim was also quietly abandoned. In August 1986 a
speciic but unnamed employee was blamed — but it was not until May
1988 that all references to nitrogen lines were dropped and a pressure
meter was mentioned.
Of course, Union Carbide and UCIL were hoping, irst, to avoid vicarious
liability on the ground that the employee would have been acting without
authority and outside the course of his employment, and, secondly,
to avoid liability under Rylands v. Fletcher, on the grounds that an
employee who comes onto his employers’ premises without authority
31
and causes the escape of a dangerous thing is a ‘stranger’ for whose acts
the occupier is not responsible. (Muchlinski 1987: 575).
There is no dispute between UCC and its opponents that a key link in the
causal chain leading to the disaster was the introduction of 120 gallons
or more water into MIC storage Tank E-610 and that this produced an
exothermic chemical reaction which in turn initiated many more. The
major dispute remains whether the water entered the tank accidentally,
as a consequence of UCC/UCE and UCIL using under-trained and
inexperienced plant operatives working with defective equipment in an
understaffed facility, or, as UCC has always argued, whether the presence
of water was the result of a deliberate act of sabotage. UCC’s critics have
also suggested that impurities in the tank may have independently
contributed to the genesis of exothermic chemical reactions even
before water was added and, further, these and other impurities such
as phosgene and cyanide may have been signiicant toxic components
of the deadly gas cloud.
Perhaps the most elaborate development and defence of UCC’s
arguments is to be found in D’Silva’s (2006) book, mentioned earlier.
D’Silva worked as a research scientist in UCC’s Agricultural Chemicals
Division for over 20 years. He was a member of its laboratory team that
examined core samples taken from the residues left in the major source
of the gas leak, Methyl Isocyanate (MIC) storage tank E-610, while
another UCC team tried to determine which chemicals under what
conditions could have produced this speciic residue and the gas cloud.
D’Silva was satisied that his team identiied all of the chemicals that
were in the residue, and that the other team had shown how, provided
the temperature inside the tank never exceeded 275°C, multiple
interactions involving MIC, water and chloroform, and then further
interactions involving both the original interactants and the newly
created chemicals, could have produced a residue with this chemical
composition.
This research, along with detective work involving additional nonlaboratory, ad hoc, experiments and data gathered from interviews,
32
provided the basis for three conident judgments. The irst judgment
was that the UCC teams had demonstrated that water could not have
accidentally entered Tank E-610. The second was that they could show
how it had been added deliberately and even identify those responsible
– they claimed that during a shift change a local pressure indicator was
removed from Tank E-610 and water was introduced into the tank.
D’Silva is not trained as a detective and hence is hardly qualiied
to claim a detective’s authority: he is not skilled in investigation, in
interrogation, in assessing the veracity and utility of what ‘persons of
interest’ say or do. His own judgments of the credibility of witnesses is
compromised by his identiication with UCC and UCIL and his trust in
their executives; for example, he takes at face value statements by two
of the eight UCIL executives subsequently convicted in June 2010 guilty
of causing “death by neglect.” He tries to discredit UCC’s critics. He
dismisses the evidence of Edward Munoz, on the grounds that he was
bitter over losing his position with UCC in 1978 and for meretriciously
accepting a consultancy fee from the plaintiff’s lawyers while acting
as a witness for them – but he does not apply the same standards to
himself and his friendly witnesses since he inds it quite acceptable that
their testimony occurred when their salaries were paid by UCC/UCIL.
He is also dismissive of another witness on the grounds that he was a
disgruntled worker and an active trade unionist: contributory evidence
it seems to his being the saboteur in question (D’Silva et al. 1986; D’Silva
2006). Since none of this evidence has been subjected to the rigours of
the legal process, it is mere speculation and ultimately of little interest.
Of much more signiicance, however, precisely because it is within the
realm of D’Silva’s expertise, is his third judgment, which is that while
there is no evidence that phosgene or hydrogen cyanide escaped into
the air:
“The materials that could have escaped out of the stack along
with MIC would …include carbon dioxide, and varying amounts
of ammonia, dimethylamine, trimethylamine, chloroform,
dichloromethane, and hydrogen chloride. All these materials,
33
being heavier than air, would form a low–lying cloud in the
vicinity of the plant and would probably not drift very far. The
varied and unexplained medical conditions reported for the
victims in different locations may be the result of exposure to
any one or a combination of these materials”. (Emphasis added.
D’Silva 2006: 110)
We remain unconvinced that this is the only possible scenario. For
example, there is good evidence that the temperature inside Tank
E-120 would have at times exceeded 420o C (Ball 2010), leading to a
decomposition of the MIC into the toxic chemicals cyanide (HCN)
and Carbon Monoxide (CO) (Blake and Ijadi-Maghsoodi 1982) and
the decomposition of other chemicals thereby eradicating any trace
of them. Nevertheless, we believe that D’Silva has demonstrated that
interactions between MIC, water and chloroform could have produced
the chemicals his team identiied in the residue of Tank E-610 and those
he identiies as escaping in a gaseous form. But this is an astonishing
admission for it underscores that the MIC producing process at
Bhopal would have been extraordinarily dangerous even if the plant
had been in excellent condition.
The Methyl Isocyanate plant at Bhopal now
34
This remarkable state of affairs generates three crucial, quite speciic
questions.:
[1]
Why was it possible to remove a pressure dial by hand when this
was connected to such a toxic and volatile chemical?
[2], Why was there such inadequate security to protect the plant from
foolish or mischievous strangers?
[3]
Why was there water in the area? As a leading specialist on safety
in chemical plants has written, if water is not there ”it cannot leak
in, no matter how many valves leak or how many errors are made”
(Kletz 1988: 86). This discussion makes it clear that Bhopal was
a less safe plant than that at Institute.
This point being made, it needs emphasizing that, if not as dangerous
as that at Bhopal, the plant at Institute was still a dangerous place to be
employed or to have as a neighbour. In the immediate aftermath of the
disaster, UCC claimed that at the Institute plant there had only been
28 MIC accidental releases in the previous ive years, yet within days of
this statement it changed its story and disclosed that there had been 61
methyl isocyanate (MIC), 107 phosgene, and 22 mixed MIC-phosgene
releases in that period. UCC subsequently admitted that it had been less
than honest about its workplace safety performance too and it was ined
for misleading OSHA inspectors (Jones 1988: 163186; Pearce 1990).
Moreover, as a result of trade union pressure, UCC had already adopted
in its chemical facility in Béziers, France, a safer just-in-time production
process that could use small amounts of MIC, stored in sealed and
sturdy stainless steel drums each containing only 213 kg of MIC, all of
which was immediately consumed in the production of Carbaryl, thus
eliminating the need to store MIC. It is clear then that: Bhopal (owned
by UCIL, owned and controlled by UCE, itself, owned and controlled by
UCC) was less safe than Institute (owned and controlled by UCC) which
was less safe than Béziers (also controlled by UCC).
35
Thus, there were known discrepancies in worker health and safety and
environmental protection standards between different UCC facilities
– and that, in part, these discrepancies can be explained through the
prism of power relations within the respective plants. Moreover, all was
not well in France either. However good the Bèziers production process,
safety was undermined in another part of the commodity chain since
piece work pressures at the Marseilles dock reduced the possibility of
taking the necessary care and time required to handle the barrels of
MIC safely.
Now, D’Silva acknowledges that once water entered the MIC tank and
set in motion an exothermic chemical reaction “the Bhopal tragedy …
was aggravated by management miscalculations” (D’Silva 2006: 137),
which included ‘[t]he needless storage of large quantities of [MIC] in
very large containers for inordinately long periods as well as insuficient
caution in design”, and he concludes that “the combination of conditions
for the accident were inherent and extant” (D’Silva 2006: 242). If these
were ‘inherent and extant’, any number of unexpected events could
have caused a runaway exothermic reaction that the safety systems in
place could not have contained. Thus the more fundamental issue is the
ease with which a disaster of almost unprecedented scale could occur.
So, even if we accepted that the incident was caused by sabotage, this
only serves to demonstrate how unsafe the actually plant was. That
is, any sabotage theory itself only serves to underline UCC, UCE and
UCIL’s responsibility for the gas leak and its consequences. We do not
accept the ‘sabotage theory’ but this is a very secondary question. How
the water entered the tank is of much less signiicance than the fact that
it could do so, that the “accident” could escalate into a massive gas leak,
and that this then gassed a nearby population of 200,000 people never
having been told of the dangers to which they were being exposed and
for whom no evacuation plan had been designed, no medical services
equipped. On these matters, even D’Silva’s lawed book makes available
new information and, in fact, provides evidence that inadvertently
supports the interpretations developed by Sarangi, Bee and other
campaigners for justice.
36
Bayer MIC and Methomyl units, West Virginia
In December 1986, UCC sold its worldwide Agricultural Products
business to the French chemical and pharmaceuticals company, Rhone
Poulenc, for $585 million. The deal included Rhone-Poulenc’s purchase
of Union Carbide’s chemical plant in Institute, West Virginia. In January
1991, the EPA issued a RCRA corrective action permit to the company
to proceed with site clean-up. Union Carbide was approved as the site
remediator and it is still engaged in this work although on 4 August 1999
Union Carbide became a wholly owned subsidiary of The Dow Chemical
Company. In, 2002, two years after the merger of Rhone-Poulenc
and AgrEvo to become Aventis, the new company sold the facility to
Bayer Crop Science. In 2009 there was an explosion during start-up
of the Methomyl unit. A report for the House Energy and Commerce
Committee found that the explosion “came dangerously close” to
igniting several tons of MIC stored nearby. The explosion and resulting
ire were caused by a runaway reaction. The US Chemical Safety Board
reported that critical safety features must have been overridden to reach
the required temperature in the unit that exploded.
37
Bayer MIC and Methomyl units, West Virginia, after explosion
(For a contextualization of this event see Mac Sheoin 2010 and for an
extraordinary and horrifying video see the US Chemical Safety Board
website http://www.csb.gov/investigations/detail.aspx?SID=3
38
Chapter 4
The ‘settlement’
What remains unclariied
is
the
relationship
between UCC [Union
Carbide], UCE [Union
Carbide Eastern] and
UCIL [Union Carbide
India]. After all, there
has
been
no
legal
determination of who
was responsible for the
tragedy of Bhopal. But, even if there had been, it is unlikely – given
present laws, legal doctrines and legal practice – that an adequate
accounting would be the result. We can, however, address this issue of
responsibility sociologically – such an analysis in fact reveals the legal
posturings of UCC have plausibility only when read in the context of
economic and political power rather than the realities of ownership,
control and thus responsibility.
UCC, UCE and UCIL: Title, control and possession
A useful way to address responsibility – particularly in the case of
corporations with subsidiaries, joint ventures, involving interlocking
ownership and interlocking directorships, and so on – is to focus on three
different forms of property relations found in the sphere of economic
production: title, control and possession (Jones 1982: 76-8). To simplify
somewhat: title refers to how economic production is inanced, how
investments and contracts are safeguarded, and how the distribution
of proits to different title holders is determined; control refers to who
has the right and ability to decide which means of production should
be purchased, how they should used, and whether or not they should
be disposed of; and possession refers to the day to day management of
39
a production process including the determination of work practices. At
this point it is important to return to UCC/UCE and UCIL.
As we have seen, the relationship between UCC/UCE and UCIL was
the latest in a long line of such relationships that began with National
Carbon Company and the Indian National Carbon. During most of this
time the parent company owned 100% of the equity in the subsidiary,
but by 1956 the percentage was no longer 100% but 60%, later, in 1978,
reduced to 50.9%. In 1984 UCC/UCE still owned 50.9% of UCIL’s stock
with the other 49.1% owned by private Indian investors and by different
levels of the Indian government. This was still a majority shareholding.
The signiicance of this to UCC/UCE and to UCIL is made crystal
clear in UCC’s charter: this states unequivocally that the objectives
of the corporation would be realised through a management system
which distinguished between ‘Category I policies’, which provide the
worldwide directives of the company, and ‘Category II policies’, which
are operational procedures.
“Both types of policy are issued to subsidiaries (afiliates in which
Union Carbide has more than 50% ownership) for adoption and
implementation. A subsidiary cannot change the substance of any
policy without review by the parent.” (Muchlinski 1987: italics
added)
Moreover, the exercise of UCC/UCE’s ‘constitutional right’ to require
UCIL’s management to implement its policies was facilitated by its
great inluence on the composition of executive bodies at UCIL. Thus,
while it is true that the 5 members of UCC/UCE were in the minority
in the 13-member Board of Directors, they were in a clear majority on
the 7-member executive committee. UCC/UCE were, in reality, the
“directing mind” of UCIL. UCC/UCE played the key role in determining
how to distribute proits between dividends, loan payments and new
investments (UCC’s approval was necessary for any capital expenditure
in excess of $500,000). Their ability to have the major say in what
would be done with the fruits of the enterprise and their right to the
greatest percentage of the proits meant that their title was preeminent.
40
Again, UCC/UCE, as the “directing mind” of UCIL, was able to determine
the nature and purpose of UCIL’s production facilities and the marketing
strategies it followed (Morehouse and Subramaniam 1986: 17). They
had played the key role in determining the kind of production process
set up in Bhopal and, in the 1970s, UCC/UCE had “insisted that large
amounts of MIC be stored there over UCIL’s objections ¼ (T)he UCIL
position [was] that only token storage [of the chemical at Bhopal] was
necessary” (Everest 1986: 31). The continued existence of the Bhopal
plant was UCC/UCE’s decision: it had commissioned a preliminary
study of the cost of dismantling the MIC unit and other pesticide
production facilities at Bhopal (Dinham et al. 1986: 27). Despite such a
threat to its existence, UCIL was not in a position to “go to a competitor
of Union Carbide and buy a pesticide plant” ready-made; and it would
be prohibitively expensive to develop a ‘pesticides plant from scratch’”
(Muchlinski 1987: 582). UCC/UCE had ‘control’ over UCIL and, in
particular, its Bhopal facility.
But it could also exercise possession with and through UCIL even though
the workforce’s experience of the Company was largely through the
UCIL management, which, formally, had extensive, indeed draconian
powers, over the workforce. Nevertheless, at the Bhopal facility, UCC/
UCE monitored safety procedures and UCIL was contractually required
to rely upon it for technological assistance and updates. Indeed, UCC
received signiicant revenues from its licensing, managerial, monitoring
and marketing activities, a not atypical arrangement when transnational
corporations [TNCs] engage in joint ventures in less developed
countries (Kolko 1988: 165). UCC had the right to intervene in day-today matters if safety was affected. Detailed reports on safety and related
matters were sent to UCC every three to six months (Everest 1987: 171).
In short, then, even though it is clear that the actual social relations in
the individual enterprises were ‘lived’ and fulilled by speciic Indian
managerial personnel (and individual workers), UCC/UCE ‘possessed’
UCIL; or, it is perhaps more accurate to say that it possessed UCIL
when it so wished.
41
Control and possession seem almost synonymous but they differ
somewhat, for example, while possession always presupposes control,
control can be exercised without possession. A parent company may
ind it as advantageous to exercise as much centralised control over
a subsidiary and its production processes as it might do over its own
production processes. On occasion, however, it may give a subsidiary
a great deal of independence in the way that it conducts its search for
proits. But if it does so, it usually requires the subsidiary at the same time
to abide by strict inancial targets, typically a speciied annual return on
the capital tied up in it, and to implement the parent company’s SOPs.
In these circumstances, to some extent, it has surrendered possession
but it has retained control over its subsidiary.
This arrangement has two advantages for the parent company. First, it is
possible to employ, relatively cheaply, well qualiied and appropriately
trained local managers who know how to organize themselves and
others to achieve organizational goals, and who, with their extensive
local knowledge and local contacts, can do business and probably
make proits there effectively. Second, through such ‘government at a
distance’ (Callon and Latour 198; Miller and Rose 1990) and by limiting
the information that it is recorded as receiving to inancial statements,
the parent company may create a situation of deniability, a ‘contrived
ignorance’ (Luban 1999) of any problematic activity by the subsidiary.
Then, if in conducting its business, the subsidiary harms people or
the environment, violates human rights, violates laws, customs or
moralities, and so on, those prosecuted or morally censured are likely to
be the local managers alone (Coffee 1981: 389). Further, in light of the
goals that they are emphasising at one time or another and according
to changes in their circumstances, corporations may be able to switch
from one mode of organization and control to another, and back again,
and so on. Whichever mode the subsidiary is in is determined by the
controlling power of the parent (Pearce 2001).
There is strong evidence that from early on in the planning of the Sevin
plant at the Bhopal facility a decision was made that the health of workers
42
and local inhabitants was low on the list of priorities. As indicated
earlier, in March 1972 there was a generally positive response by the
Indian government to UCC/UCE’s 1970 application to manufacture
MIC-based pesticides at Bhopal but there was also a requirement that
a quarter of the new investment for the plant should be raised by new
share offerings to Indian investors. Further, this issue was revisited in
1974-5, inally culminating in 1977-8 in the well-received exclusive offer
of shares to those who were already UCIL shareholders.
In 2002, important documents were unearthed which show not only
that UCC/UCE was concerned about the issue of these shares, but also
reveal a great deal about responsibility for the disaster (Edwards and
Fontenot 2007). The documents in question were prepared for the 2
December 1973 meeting of the UCE Management Committee, whose
members included Warren Anderson. They consisted of a memo on
the subject of UCIL’s ‘Methyl Isocyanate-Based Agricultural Chemical
Project,’ a copy of a UCC report evaluating the project, and a copy of the
1972 UCC Capital-Budget-Proposal (McKenzie 2002: 1-2).
In 1972 UCC/UCE was certainly interested in proitable overseas
expansion of a subsidiary and it was pleased that this project would
not require it to engage in any new capital expenditure, since UCIL was
going to provide all the funds. However, in the Capital-Budget-Proposal
document, concern was expressed that the proposed expenditure of $28
million would entail a share issue of $7 million, thus reducing UCC’s
share of equity to a point less than 53.5 % ownership of the company,
meaning that its position as the majority shareholder would become
increasingly precarious (the absolute minimum acceptable to UCC
at this time was a 51% ownership). In response, the authors of the
document advocated “negotiation with the GOI to reduce the amount
of investment from approximately $28.0 million (RS 215 million) to
approximately $20.6 million (Rs. 163 million). The negotiated amounts
will be mainly on the Sevin project.” (http://www.bhopal.net/oldsite/
carbidedocuments/completepages/02dec1973capitalbudget/index.
html accessed 25 Feb.2010).
43
It is clear that UCIL presented to UCC/UCE at least two distinct proposals
for the MIC/Sevin plants at Bhopal. The irst speciied a set of more
expensive, thoroughly tested, reliable technologies. The second proposal
substituted for the irst set of technologies another set which were much
cheaper but which were more likely to malfunction and hence put at risk
plant operatives and the surrounding communities. The fact that these
two sets of technologies had been under consideration is made clear in
the report attached to a memo sent to the UCE management committee
which included Warren Anderson, CEO of UCC:
“The comparative risk of poor performance and of consequent
need for further investment to correct it is considerably higher in
the UCIL operation than it would be had proven technology been
followed throughout. CO and 1—Naphthol processes have not
been tried commercially and even the MIC to Sevin process, as
developed by UCC, has had only a limited trial run. Furthermore,
while similar waste streams have been handled elsewhere, this
particular combination of materials to be disposed of is new and
accordingly, affords further chance for dificulty. In short, it can
be anticipated that there will be interruptions in operations and
delays in reaching capacity or product quality that might have
been avoided by adoption of proven technology.
UCIL inds the business risk in the proposed mode of operation
acceptable, however, in view of the desired long-term objectives
of minimum capital and foreign exchange expenditures. As long
as UCIL is diligent in pursuing solutions, it is their feeling any
shortfalls can be mitigated by imports. UCC concurs.”
(UCE 1972, Excerpted from
http://www.bhopal.net/oldsite/carbidedocuments/completepages/02
dec1973projectproposal/index.html accessed 25 Feb.2011)
Thus UCC/UCE’s solution was to reduce costs, particularly in the case
of the Sevin plant, by signiicantly downgrading the quality of the
technologies that would be used at Bhopal. The second proposal was
44
chosen and UCC/UCE
clearly understood the
implications
of
this
choice. The report was
clear that producing
Alpha-Naphthol
by
sulfonating Naphthalene
was to use an untried
process, one dangerous
since it also produced
Beta-Naphthol
as
a
toxic side product. There was an alternative safer program but this was
more expensive (D’Silva 2006: 68). In 1982 the Alpha-Naphthol plant
was closed down and UCC began importing Alpha-Nathphalene from
America. But, of course, there were warnings about the MIC plant too
and these were simply ignored. To read this memo and its accompanying
documents, and then to re-read Article IV in the 1973 Design Transfer
Agreement which claimed it was “the best manufacturing information
available”, is to feel confounded by the degree of duplicity and callousness
of those who owned and controlled UCC. With a grim ittingness, the
memo was sent on 2 December 1973, eleven years to the day before
the leak that began in the MIC unit and its storage tank, leading to the
Bhopal disaster.
The cost to the company and its owners
It seems clear to us on this basis that the contentions made by UCC
concerning the Bhopal disaster in its publicity and its legal arguments
do not stand up to scrutiny. Let us recapitulate our argument. UCIL
was not an independent company; nor was it Indian backwardness that
was responsible for the poor state of the Bhopal plant and its unsafe
manufacturing practices. The ‘sabotage’ theory has been presented in
a number of guises, yet remains unsubstantiated. The Bhopal plant’s
design and standard operating procedures were inadequate and they
were the responsibility of UCC not UCIL. Bhopal was an inferior plant
45
to that at Institute, West Virginia, but this plant was not safe either.
Indeed, contrary to the version of the history of its operations presented
by the Company, UCC has long been a prime example of ‘toxic capital’.
Yet to a large extent it was UCC’s ability to achieve plausibility that
allowed it to secure such a small settlement.
The initial sum demanded by the Indian government had been $3.3
billion. This was anything but excessive, and included no element of
punitive damages. In fact, on 14 February 1989, UCC and the Indian
government, the latter acting on behalf of the victims of the Bhopal
tragedy, reached an outofcourt settlement of $470 million. It was agreed
that this settlement would render UCC immune from all impending
litigation, including criminal charges. The money was to compensate
the families of the 3,329 people oficially recognized by the Indian
government as having died as a result of the tragedy and the 20,000
seriously injured that it accepted as bona ide surviving victims.
Why did UCC agree to the sum of $470 million? First, because UCC had
managed to severely limit both the number of “legitimate” claimants
and the level at which they would be compensated. Second, because for
a company with assets of $10 billion it was no great inancial burden.
Insurance covered approximately $200 million of these costs (Fischer
1996: 262) and the other $270 million was covered by a retrospective
levy of 50 cents on the 1988 shareholders dividend reducing it from
$1.59 per share to $1.09 a share. This $270 million must be compared
with the $1 billion paid out to the shareholders in 1986.
But why did the government of India accept the settlement? A large
part of the reason was UCC’s success in having the case tried in India
rather than in the US. UCC argued that the witnesses to the disaster,
the victims, the key players, the documentation and evidence were all in
Bhopal, where the UCIL plant was ”managed, operated, and maintained
exclusively by Indians residing in India, more than 8,000 miles away”.
The Company claimed that the real reason for the attempt to have the
case tried in the US was the potential for a large settlement: “as a moth
46
to the light, so is a litigation drawn to the United States” (cited in Baxi
1986). On the question of litigation, UCC’s particular (and real) concerns
have to be related to the general interests of transnational capital whose
Third World operations might be threatened by any settlement with a
punitive element.
Indeed, the Bhopal victims and the Indian government had wanted the
trial in the US, providing persuasive reasons for this: that there was
such a backlog of cases in India that the trial would take an inordinate
amount of time; that tort law was underdeveloped and there was a
lack of experienced legal experts; that there were inadequate discovery
procedures in India and the laws were constructed around doctrines of
negligence rather than strict liability; that this was largely due to the
heritage of colonialism; that UCIL’s assets in India were worth less
than $100 million; and, inally, and most important of all, that UCC
controlled UCIL and the relevant documents and personnel were to be
found in the US and not in India:
“Key management personnel of multinationals exercise a closely
held power, which is neither restricted by national boundaries nor
effectively controlled by international law. The complex corporate
structure of the multinational, with networks of subsidiaries and
subdivisions, makes it exceedingly dificult or even impossible to
pinpoint responsibility for the damage caused by the enterprise
to discrete corporate units or individuals. In reality there is but
one entity, the monolithic multinational that is responsible for
the design, development and dissemination of information and
technology worldwide.
(Afidavit of the Union of India, US District Court, South District
of New York, 8 April 1985, cited in Hazarika 1987: 112)
Judge Keenan, however, decided that the trial would be held in India
but with three conditions: that UCC should itself consent to be tried in
India; that it should accept the judgments of the courts there; and that
it should be willing to be subject to discovery under the model of the
United States federal rules and civil procedure (Hazarika 1987: 128).
47
UCC accepted the irst two conditions – though, as we have noted in
Chapter One, neither the company nor its CEO Warren Anderson
attended the court cases which conirmed their legal status as absconders
while convicting local, Indian, plant management. But the company
appealed against the third of Keenan’s conditions, claiming that it was
unfair for the Indian government to have unrestricted access to its
records when its own access to the records of the Indian government was
to be more limited. Keenan himself had implicitly indicated sympathy
to such a plea when he wrote in a footnote that while “the Court feels it
would be fair to bind the plaintiffs to American discovery rules, too, it
has no authority to do so” (cited in Baxi 1986: 8). Not surprisingly, UCC
won its appeal so that instead of using American discovery procedures
– which had made possible the successful actions against asbestos
producers, such as Johns Manville – the inadequate Indian, or rather
Anglo-Indian, discovery procedures obtained.
An apparently even-handed settlement was nothing of the sort.
Essentially, the American courts had accepted UCC’s presentation of
the case - that the crucial evidence and events were in India - and simply
ignored that of the Indian government. Baxi summarises Keenan’s
reasoning on this point:
“India’s claim was that Union Carbide was ‘the creator of the
design used in the Bhopal plant, and directed UCIL’s relatively
minor detailing program’, consequently only an American forum
had the best access to the sources of proof. The court decides, in
response, that ‘most of the documentary evidence concerning
design, safety, training, safety and startups is to be found in India’.
In doing so, Judge Keenan relies on the afidavits of Messrs.
Brown, Woomer and Dutta, all Union Carbide employees. The
two agreements between UCIL and the Union Carbide (‘Design
Transfer Agreement’ and ‘Technical Service Agreements’) were
based on an arms-length corporate practice”. (Baxi 1986: 23)
We have shown that to take such arms-length agreements at face value
is ludicrous since it ignores the considerable evidence of the complex
48
control exercised by UCC over its subsidiaries. Furthermore, there were
also good legal grounds for deciding differently.
Similarly ludicrous is the fact that the American courts accepted that
the interests of a sovereign (and democratic) state and a licensed (and
autocratic) corporation were of an equivalent value. They did not
believe that a government charged with the security of more than 650
million people had more speciic and legitimate concerns with secrecy
than that of a corporation. Perhaps this was related to the fact that this
corporation was a large America industrial (the 35th largest in 1984),
with sales of $9.5 billion and assets of $11 billion.
Union Carbide did, however, make one particularly telling series of
claims, namely that:
“The Indian government may have granted a licence for the
Bhopal plant without adequate checks on the plant; that the
relevant controlling agencies responsible for the plant were
grossly understaffed, lacked powers and had little impact on
conditions in the ield. More particularly, the Bhopal department
of labour ofice had only two inspectors, neither of who had any
knowledge of chemical hazards.” (Muchlinski 1987: 575)
In other words, the Indian government bore a major responsibility
for the Bhopal disaster. Now, there is strong evidence that Indian
regulatory agencies were indeed inadequate (Cassels 1993; Everest
1986; Hazarika 1987). But in arguing this position Union Carbide was
being disingenuous. First, because it had itself cultivated relationships
with personnel at all levels of the Indian state (ARENA 1985) and seems
to have itself been party to the circumvention of regulations (Granada
1986). Second, because effective regulation, in what was informally a
partially ‘deregulated’ country, would have curtailed UCC’s ability to
export hazard; and no corporation would be left free, by the law or
by its shareholders, to encourage publicly, whether altruistically or
autonomously, the development of measures which would restrict its
own freedom to locate production (Pearce and Tombs 1998; Jensen
49
and Meckling, 1976; Bakan 2004). In the latter context, then, it is worth
emphasising that UCC is a paradigmatic instance of ‘toxic capital’.
UCC’s slogan of ‘Safety at any Cost’ portrays a corporate image that is
not borne out by reality – a reality which extends from the Gauley Bridge
disaster in West Virginia where 476 deaths from silicosis were recorded,
its role in the development and use of the carcinogen vinyl chloride,
its nuclear weapons manufacturing plant in Oak Ridge, Tennessee, its
dangerous graphite electrodes production facilities in Yabucoa, Puerto
Rico (Agarwal et al. 1985: 1423) and its plant in Alloy, West Virginia
which alone puts ”out more pollution annually than the total emitted
in New York City in a year” (New York Times, 10 September 1989).
But UCC is far from alone. ‘Chemical catastrophe’ – from multi-fatality
incidents to environmental degradation on an almost unimaginable
scale, not to mention the plethora of silent killers to which the industry
exposes workers, consumers and residents – is an inherent element of
chemicals production, distribution and use across both the so-called
developed and developing worlds (MacSheoin, 2010).
Flowers at the altar of proit and power?
In several respects, the
’settlement’ was to prove
far from the end of the
matter. First, while Union
Carbide, now owned by Dow
Chemical, paid out £250m in
compensation to residents
in 1989, only a part of that
sum has been distributed.
Successful claims have resulted in minimal payments, which began only
in 1992. In July 2004, India’s Supreme Court ordered the government
to distribute money held in the bank, currently worth £174m, to the
566,876 Bhopal survivors and relatives whose claims have been
successfully lodged. As we write, legal and political struggles over the
50
level and distribution of the compensation package continue (see, for
example, http://bhopal.net/). Second, and as we noted in Chapter
One, not only has the settlement itself has been challenged but attempts
at legal redress have been subsequently resurrected – a struggle which
also continues. Third, the settlement in any case is only explicable as
a sordid compromise forced upon the weak by the strong, rather than
something determined according to equity and the facts of the case.
Bhopal cannot be considered merely an unforeseen and unforeseeable
event from which the chemical industry could learn. UCC, with the
aid of the American chemical industry, the American state and the
American courts had succeeded, albeit perhaps only temporarily, in
avoiding responsibility for the disaster and in imposing an insulting and
inequitable settlement.
51
Chapter 5
Criminal, immoral, or the
cost of ‘business as usual’?
Beloved, our people drink up the ilthy water
Heroines and heroes take deep breaths of killing air
Our guts and lungs are illed with bitter chemistry,
Poison, pain and cancers we lock inside our bodies,
Accumulating toxic wealth, letting no one share it.
Law, progress, justice, these are the names of our diseases.
(Prem Nizar Hameed)
The legal proceedings that have followed the mass killings and
environmental destruction, UCC (Union Carbide) and Warren
Andersen’s status as absconders from justice, and the re-opening
of the out-of-court settlement are all clear indicators of illegality in
the production and wake of the events of December 1984. We have
demonstrated here that, sociologically at least, we can re-cast these
events as criminal. Moreover, the enduring harms to which Prem Nizar
Hameed points, above, are indications that UCC, UCIL and Dow should
all be objects of moral condemnation – while Dow’s efforts to ingratiate
themselves with the international community as sponsors of the 2012
London Olympics must continue to be resisted.
52
Whether we effectively label Bhopal as crime, or harm, or both, for
many economists, what happened at Bhopal is simply a cost of doing
business – negative externalities, borne by people or environments, for
which the latter can be compensated, thus forcing (some of) the costs
back onto the corporation which produced them. Neo-classical, and,
above all, neo-liberal economists, believe that, in principle and in the
name of eficiency, all relations involved in the production, distribution
and use of goods and services should be organised in and through a
‘competitive market system’ – a “supply-demand-price mechanism”
(Neale 1971: 96).
For such economists, there are two major factors which inhibit this
‘pure’ form of capitalism. First, there are inevitably ‘market failures’.
These are sometimes because the potential market is relatively limited
compared to the high costs required to produce goods for it and
sometimes because many human beings, much of the time, are fools or
knaves. Any suspicion that trading partners are inept or venal justiies
surveillance and disciplinary practices which may constitute a signiicant
additional transaction cost. This may be reduced if authoritarian
relations in hierarchical organisations replace sets of market relations.
Second, there are externalities. Trading partners in one market may
inlict collateral beneits or damages on actors in other markets without
compensation (Blum 1998: 4). In this case, then, the major focus is not
on the costs and beneits accrued by contracting parties involved in a
particular private economic exchange, but rather on their effects on
other sets of private economic exchanges.
In the case of negative externalities, simple consensual solutions may
be arrived at by negotiations between the parties, or failing that through
negotiations subject to civil law, even tort law. A typical example of a
positive externality is that a landowner planting a forest upstream may
improve the quality of the water on somebody else’s land downstream.
A typical example of a negative externality is the polluting side effects
of an industrial production process. Both negative and positive
externalities are construed on the basis of markets in property rights on
the assumption that everything has a price.
53
When faced with negative
externalities, most people
desire compensation of
some kind. Delayed trains,
uneven pavements, lost
baggage and even ‘missold’ payment protection
insurance, for example,
may be irksome, in varying
degrees, but they are mostly little more than nuisances and certainly do
not threaten the life, limb or the general health of oneself or one’s family,
friends, colleagues, communities. In such cases, monetary compensation
is often enough for inconveniences caused. However, when life, limb
and general health are involved, people are not concerned only with
compensation but often also with punitive damages as a potential
deterrent to potentially harmful conduct. They also demand something
intangible, not reducible to these former, phenomena, which they often
term ‘justice’. By contrast, corporations routinely take risks, knowing
these will may or are likely to endanger the lives of others, calculating
the potential costs of doing so and protecting themselves from these by
insurance cover – then, under the cover of ‘commercial secrecy’, hide
the dangers that they face from the likely victims.
UCC/UCE and UCIL assumed that assigning a price to things, to life and
limb, to relationships, left it legally protected because (a little) money
can compensate victims for any loss – or should do so. This assumption
informed Union Carbide’s way of doing business, its reckless exposure
of workers to unsafe working conditions associated with the use and
production of toxic chemicals, and its indifference to the risks to the
nearby communities kept ignorant of what was being done on their
doorsteps. It decided it was cost effective to put these particular people
at risk – after all, the cost of compensation depends on the particular
economic value given different lives.
54
The people of Bhopal have since shown that to help survivors and their
families live with as much dignity as can be salvaged, to provide medical
care and employment, to rebuild shattered communities, they need real
compensation, not a sum that values their lives as worth one twentieth
or less of those in the West. But this is no admission that any amount
of compensation can make up for the loss of a mother, a son, a friend,
or a trusted work colleague. For many of the victims in Bhopal, much
remains to be done: the guilty must be brought to justice and punitive
damages imposed; Dow and its shareholders must be made to clean
up the toxic mess left behind in Bhopal; offers of no-fault cleanups,
as suggested by Tata and its Indian and international corporate allies,
need to be resisted. Then, perhaps then, may there be some smallest
indication of justice being done. More generally, of course, corporate
charters need to be rescinded and dissolved: for this is the only basis on
which they, and we too, might look forward to NO MORE BHOPALS.
55
56
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