Had President Pranab Mukherjee had the guts, he would have accepted Yakub Memon’s second mercy petition – the only one filed by him (the first had been filed by his brother). The president had enough grounds to do so, both legal and ethical, spelled out in the letter written to him last week by a galaxy of retired judges, including some from the Supreme Court, eminent lawyers, artists and academics.
Had the Supreme Court taken the advice of one of its own former judges, Justice HS Bedi, it could have sent the death warrant back for a fresh look or looked at the new evidence itself, given the revelations being made over the last week. After all, it wasn’t some rookie activist lawyer giving the advice – it was a judge who had himself handed out a death sentence.
A 'travesty of justice'
But all of this could have happened only if those with the power to show mercy, considered Yakub Memon worthy of it. Imagine a man coming back full of hope and faith in his country, a man who risked his life to gather proof against his own brother and the powerful Inter Services Intelligence, a man who convinced his family to come back too. Now imagine all of them thrown behind bars, rapidly disintegrating. Yet, that man never lost faith. "The investigating agencies have complete knowledge about me,’’ he wrote to the Chief Justice in 1994. "I am a good citizen of this country. I have tried to help the government in whatever manner I could. In fact, when this case will come to its logical end and the truth will unravel, everybody will come to know about my humble effort and sacrifice. If my story is known, I’m convinced the court will set me free."
Yakub Memon’s daughter, whom he wanted to be brought up as Indian, and with whom he could never spend even a year, says he never stopped telling her that he would come home. Political activist Arun Ferreira, who was in Nagpur Jail, told Scroll.in that Yakub Memon would never join any protest because he didn’t want anything to spoil his spotless record and come in the way of his freedom.
Former Supreme Court judge Markandeya Katju has called Memon’s conviction a "travesty of justice’’. If his conviction can’t be undone – Justice Bedi felt it could – doesn’t this man at least deserve mercy? Or is the baying for his blood too much to risk ignoring? By ruling parties, maybe. But by the courts?
The only saving grace of this sorry shameful tale of appeasing mob sentiment is that so many of our best minds have stood up against it. And hardly any of them is Muslim. That counts, because Yakub Memon’s fate is irretrievably tied up with him being a member of the Memon family.
If the March 12, 1993, blasts were motivated by religious revenge, there’s also a long list of savage crimes committed by persons motivated by Hindutva. What of the men who gang-raped Bilkis Bano, killed 14 of her family members, flung her three-year-old daughter to the ground, smashing her head in the Gujarat savagery of 2002? They were sentenced to life. Did the "collective conscience’’ of the nation want these accused to hang?
We don’t know because there was no baying for blood in these cases. Not that there should be. The death penalty spells revenge, not justice. But the fact is such a clamour becomes loud enough to be noticed only when made by the majority community, it would seem.
A travesty
There’s yet another travesty in Yakub Memon’s case – the date of his execution, which seems to have acquired some sacrosanct value looking at the way everything is being hurried through. July 30 is his 53rd birthday.
So we watch helplessly as a man whose culpability – or at least the extent of it – even judges are not convinced of, is hung from the noose.
The Shiv Sena might celebrate as it has in the past. The BJP might do so too. Meanwhile, the Mumbai police has as usual asked Muslims to keep the peace, as if they are the only ones who pose a threat to it.