An appalling 121 people died in the so-called ‘stampede’ in Hathras. It was hardly an isolated incident. India is the #1 hotspot for crowd disasters. Most of them occur during religious gatherings—and for good reason.
Tell me what happened first…
The satsang: was held in an open, muddy field in a village. The local godman known as Bhole Baba—aka Narayan Sakar Hari—arrived at 12.30 pm. It wrapped up just 90 minutes later.
The tragedy: As the baba left the stage, his devotees rushed to collect his ‘pair ki dhool’ (dust of his feet)—which is considered holy. Then this happened:
As a sea of people emerged from the venue, they did not notice those sitting or bowing down outside, and ended up trampling them. Within minutes, there was chaos, and the air was filled with wails and screams. Those trying to escape were forcefully stopped by the satsang’s organisers who wielded sticks, causing the crowd to swell and stagnate. Many women and children were crushed, crying for help.
It took over two hours to bring the situation under control.
The casualty count: As of now, 121 people are dead—and 28 injured. The police sent many of the injured to distant hospitals in Aligarh, Agra etc—over 40 km away—which also resulted in a greater death toll. Here’s a clip of the gathering:
Here’s a disturbing scene of the aftermath from a nearby hospital. Content warning: this may be hard to watch:
About that Bhole Baba: The Dalit preacher claims his goal is to create an ideal society, free of superstition and full of compassion. His actual name is Suraj Pal—and used to be a police constable in Uttar Pradesh until the 1990s. Then he found God—or vice versa—and became a godman:
[H]e turned to spirituality, adopted a new name, and started giving public sermons about leading a pious life. He described himself as a disciple of Narayan Sakar Hari and asked his followers to find the Almighty within.
He has a massive following mainly in rural areas—and among “low-income Dalit families, where the men are employed as labourers, masons, agricultural labourers, safai karamcharis, carpenters or carpet-sellers.”
The shady bits: Pal has built his reputation around exorcism—especially of girls. He was arrested back in March 2000—for abducting a girl’s dead body, claiming he could bring her back to life. The police claim he left the force after being suspended for sexual harassment.
But, but, but: Unlike many other godmen, Pal has never asked for “chadhava” (offerings)—as his devotees staunchly point out. FWIW, Pal is now in hiding—but authorities won’t say whether he’s absconding.
Interesting to note: Unlike his saffron-clad peers, this baba has an affection for white suits and dark glasses and lounging on thrones—as you can see below:
And why is this tragedy ‘man-made’?
Because almost all stampedes are a failure of crowd planning and control. Here’s how it ought to work:
“You need to know the size of the crowd, the capacity of the event, not just the size of the area, the capacity to manage that crowd," [crowd management expert] Teresa Moore said. Crowd stewards, monitoring potential changes in crowd behaviour, and having sufficient entry and exit points are all crucial to maintaining a safe event, Ms Moore said.
These kinds of measures are routine in any kind of ticketed event—for concerts, matches etc. But they’re almost entirely absent in religious gatherings in India. They are always a potential disaster in the making. Here’s why:
One: The organisers of the satsang sought a permit for a crowd of 80,000. On the day, 250,000 showed up. There were only 40 policemen on duty at the event.
Two: The godman’s workers—sevadars—used sticks to prevent devotees from coming near the baba. People fell, suffocating those below. Also this:
The crowd, running wildly through fields filled with water and mud about three metres deep, was forcefully stopped by the organising committee and the sevaks with sticks, causing pressure of the massive crowd to increase, crushing women, children and men.
Those are the most proximate causes of the tragedy—which was entirely preventable.
And why does it matter that it was a religious event?
Ah, this is why India leads the world in crowd disasters—especially on religious occasions. A 2023 study found that almost 70% of incidents in India between 2000 and 2019 were tied to religious events. Examples: 340 deaths at Maharashtra's Mandhardevi temple in 2005; at least 250 at Rajasthan's Chamunda Devi temple in 2008; and 162 people at Naina Devi temple in Himachal Pradesh in 2008. So why is India so prone to these horrific tragedies?
One: Some Western experts think we are just more used to large crowds:
"The higher tolerance for crowded spaces in India allows for people to get closer, because they don't feel uncomfortable until it is very packed," said [crowd security expert] Theresa Moore… At that point the crowd is dangerously large, she added.
"People panic and react. Couple that with a rumor, which can come out of that feeling of panic, that's when you can get a surge or a problem… the tipping point between what people can manage and what they feel is dangerous is very fine."
Two: We have many, very large religious gatherings in remote, rural spaces—with very tricky terrain:
Religious festivals, especially when located at remote rural areas and on hilly terrains, and on the foothills or at riverbanks lacking proper pathways always pose a geographical risk to the pilgrims. Steep slopes, uneven topography of the venue, dead ends, slippery and muddy floors, narrow passages, convergence of pedestrian flow to a single point are among the common risks prevailing in religious gathering sites, compromising safety and triggering stampedes.
We are home to some of the most dangerous locations for religious events—including the Kumbh Mela. Made more dangerous because in rural India “anything amounting to crowd control is sparse or nonexistent.”
What’s going to happen now?
Well, everyone is suitably saddened and outraged—from the Prime Minister to the local thana chief. The police have thrown the new criminal code at the organisers of the event:
Police have booked the organiser of the event, identified as Devprakash Mathur, under Bharatiya Nyaya Sanhita sections 105 (culpable homicide), 110 (homicide), 126 (wrongful restraint and wrongful confinement), 223 (disobeying public servant order), 238 (disappearance of evidence).
The godman’s aide is on the hook, as well.
But, but, but: There is nary a mention of the baba himself.
Point to note: The sevadars are also accused of not aiding rescue efforts. They instead were throwing away the victims’ shoes and other belongings in order to hide evidence of any stampede taking place.
The bottomline: As we noted earlier, most crowd disasters are man-made. This is also why many experts resist the word ‘stampede’:
It catastrophises events involving crowds, especially in relation to religious gatherings or when details of the incident are vague. But using terms like this has implications. It essentially puts the blame on the people involved in the incident and on the way they behaved. In fact, crowd behaviour is often not the main cause of such incidents. Perpetuating this narrative often allows organisers to be absolved of responsibility and demotivates authorities from investigating the root cause of the problem.
Reading list
The Telegraph and Indian Express have the most on Bhole Baba. The Print and NDTV are very good in explaining how and why the stampede occurred. For more on why religious pilgrimages are hazardous in India, read these older News Minute and Washington Post articles. The Conversation is best on crowd disasters in general.
