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THE REVOLUTION MUST GO ON

Bastille fell on July 14, 1789. The demolition of the seemingly impregnable fortress-prison, gave the French revolutionists the belief that they would be able to overcome a despotic regime, which was choking their lives and liberties.

Originally conceived as a protective fort for Paris, Bastille was soon converted into a state prison to confine anyone who opposed the Bourbon monarchy. The governors of Bastille were believed to have been issued a carte blanche to torture the inmates. Accounts by released prisoners painted the picture of a centrally located torture house, beyond the conventional bounds of justice.

Two hundred and sixteen years on, an almost similar rerun of events happened in Andizhan, Uzbekistan in May 2005. Thousands of citizens attacked a prison in the city and freed inmates, who were detained there on charges of Islamic extremism. The despotic and corrupt regime of Islam Karimov had left the people disillusioned. Not only does Uzbekistan have one of the lowest growth rates among the former Soviet republics, its human rights record is appalling too. The government even regulates the kind of Islam the people must follow. Anyone who follows the more authentic version is an extremist, and therefore liable to be sent to prison. Instead of concentrating on pulling the country from the pits, the government is busy witch-hunting and persecuting ?truant? Muslims with inhuman torture in prison. According to reports by human rights organizations, even the relatives of ?rebels? have started vanishing. The storming of the little-known Andizhan prison is a reminder to despotic regimes that desperate and exploited citizens can still fall back on the Bastille formula.

The parallels between 18th-century France and Uzbekistan are striking. The upheavals in both the nations have been masterminded by the bourgeoisie, facilitated by a tottering economy and a corrupt government dominated by the aristocrats and bureaucrats. The attack assumes greater significance in the light of the bloodless coups to oust puppet dictators from power in neighbouring Ukraine and Kyrgyzstan. These have raised hopes of a renewed citizens? revolution two centuries after the French revolution.

There is more than a little dichotomy associated with the Bastille. The leading Girondist, Jacques Pierre Brissot, writes in his memoir about the horrific conditions of his incarceration, while in reality, he had actually thanked top police officials in a letter for taking care of him there.

This can be attributed to the fact that the revolutionary politicians could not resist the temptation of presenting the Bastille as a Gothic site of torture. Bastille became synonymous with power and oppression. Its overthrow was the victory of the people.

Today, the Abu Ghraibs, Guantanamo Bays and Qinchengs are the emblematic and metaphoric descendants of Bastille. But unlike Bastille, their reputations are unambiguous. Human rights is a dirty phrase to the wardens of these places. These institutions strengthen the arms of the authority (often an unlawful occupational force) and try to kill the spirit of opposition, liberty and equality. Like Bastille, Abu Ghraib holds people without a charge and Guantanamo Bay keeps people just on the basis of suspicion. Abu Ghraib must hold the same meaning to Iraqis as the Bastille did to the French prior to the Revolution: a symbol of arbitrary state power and cruelty. With 10,000 inmates, it is Bush?s Buchenwald. And so, no surprises that the Iraqis have already mounted an unsuccessful assault on it in April.

The 21st century Bastilles continue to symbolize state power, but they also inspire David to challenge the mighty Goliath. Which is why July 14 remains relevant in a number of corners of the modern world.

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