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Saturday, Jul 4, 2009
On Friday, war with Islamist gunmen continued to rage in the Indian city's downtown. Some hostages are freed, but others have been found dead.
Editor's note: This article originally appeared in Der Spiegel.
By Sascha Zastiral
Nov. 28, 2008 | MUMBAI -- In the southern part of India's economic center of Mumbai, heavily armed soldiers and police are standing on every corner. Sharpshooters can be seen on the roofs and helicopters circle overhead. The city quarter is called Colaba, and it is here, in the southernmost tip of the city, where attackers struck on Wednesday night. Since then, they have largely held the metropolis of 18 million in their sway. More than 140 people have lost their lives in the 10 coordinated attacks; more than 400 have been injured.
Just days ago, Colaba was still a relaxed café and restaurant quarter, a favorite in Mumbai, India's most progressive city. Now, it is a war zone.
Police cars speed down the Colaba Causeway right through the center of the quarter, blue lights flashing. They come to a stop in front of the Nariman House. On Thursday morning, hours after the first attacks, terrorists forced their way into the house, which houses the Jewish Chabad Lubavitch center, and took a number of hostages. On Friday, a rabbi, his wife and two Israelis remained in the hands of the attackers for much of the day.
Police have cordoned off the entire area. Hundreds of onlookers stand at the barricades set up by the authorities, craning their necks to get a look at the house. Journalists and photographers from across the globe shove their way among them. Then, a ripple of suspense makes its way through the crowds: helicopters begin circling over the building. At least seven heavily armed men in black rappel onto the roof of the culture center. They are from the "Black Cats," a highly specialized police unit.
Bulletproof vests
Not long later, the sound of machine gun fire echoes out of the building. Then, just before noon local time, sounds of a large explosion roll over the quarter. Then more shots. Within a half an hour, six further explosions can be heard from inside the house, and yet more gunfire. The police, all in bullet-proof vests, become nervous -- two of them impatiently begin forcing the crowd of onlookers further away. Quiet soon returns. Later on Friday, it was reported that police had gained full control of the building. A security official told Indian television that the commandos had killed two militants and found two other bodies, which appear to be the hostages.
While the battle was continuing at Nariman House on Friday, panic has begun to spread at the city's central station. Rumors have begun circulating that, just as on Wednesday evening, attackers have fired indiscriminately into crowds of bystanders. Police are quick to deny the reports, saying that three armed men had been arrested at a nearby hospital. But the streets empty out immediately, with people seeking safety in their homes.
Fear has gripped the city. The joie de vivre for which the city is well known has completely evaporated.
The area around the Trident Hotel, formerly known as the Oberoi, has been cordoned off. Hundreds have collected near a side entrance to the building, among them Steven de Souza. De Souza is from the western Indian state of Goa, just down the coast from Mumbai. The 31-year-old with curly dark hair has worked in Mumbai for the last 10 years; he wears a dark blue T-shirt, his arms are crossed tensely.
"I really don't know if friends of mine are still inside, or if they are still alive," he says. He explains that he worked at the luxury hotel for three years a number of years ago. And he reports that, here too, special forces had rappelled down onto the building from hovering helicopters earlier in the day. "People came to the hotel because they were looking for safety," De Souza says. "It is awful what has happened."
Fear on their faces
Suddenly, there is pushing and shoving at the door. Police in battle dress push the crowd to the side and a hotel worker leads a man out of the hotel. He looks to be around 60 years old, is wearing a light blue shirt, glasses and is bald. "I have nothing to say," he says, in what sounds like a British accent, as he passes. "I was in my room the entire time." He is then bundled into a waiting car and driven away.
It has been 36 hours since attackers forced their way into the hotel. The armed invaders took a number of hostages -- hundreds of other hotel guests were trapped in their rooms. On Thursday night, officials shut off power to the hotel so that the terrorists could no longer follow events elsewhere in the city on the television.
A bus drives up to the hotel. More and more people climb in, many of them clearly Westerners. The police on Friday freed nearly 100 men and women from their rooms -- they look exhausted, fear still written across their faces.
Ahmed Kahn sits in his taxi at a nearby street corner. Khan is in his early 40s, wears a long, graying beard and henna-dyed red hair -- and he is Muslim. "This is so wrong," he says in Urdu, holding back his tears. "It simply can't be."
Like many other Muslims in the city, Khan comes from the poor state of Uttar Pradesh in northern India. He came to Mumbai, he says, to work and to "provide his children with a better future." All the Muslims he knows, he says, are completely shocked by the attacks. "Islam is supposed to bring peace," he says. "But what these young men have done here is 'Haram'" -- forbidden. "Spilling blood is a sin."
A few hours later, the police reported that the operation in the Trident was over. 26 bodies were found in the lobby and the hallways of the hotel. Here at least, the nightmare had finally come to an end.
Shooting people in the street
But, a paralyzing silence lies over the center of Colaba. All the businesses are closed -- even the countless roving salesmen have stopped hawking their wares. The famed Leopold restaurant has also lowered its shutters. Glass shards lie on the sidewalk. Pools of blood have collected on the dusty pavement. A sharp rotting odor makes its way through the air vents in the shutters. Inside the restaurant, in the dark, plates with food on them still sit on the tables.
