India Must Free Human Rights Defender Binayak Sen Immediately

In 1970 Howard Zinn began his now–famous speech “The Problem is Civil Obedience” with these words: “I start from the supposition that the world is topsy–turvy, that things are all wrong, that the wrong people are in jail and the wrong people are out of jail, that the wrong people are in power and the wrong people are out of power, that the wealth is distributed in this country and the world in such a way as not simply to require small reform but to require a drastic reallocation of wealth.”

In 2005 I read Zinn’s speech as part of a Voices of a People’s History of the United States performance in Seattle that was organized by Anthony Arnove—Zinn’s co–editor of the anthology. Those words are as close to the truth as we will get to what’s happening today.

In India, internationally recognized physician–humanitarian Dr. Binayak Sen is in jail with a lifetime sentence, and in the US, young climate change activist Tim DeChristopher was convicted last Thursday and may end up in jail for ten years.

Late last year, I visited my family in India. On December 24 we watched with horror on TV channels and read newspaper articles with dismay that Dr. Binayak Sen has been convicted with sedition charges. My dad was outraged; my mom was outraged; my sister and brother–in–law were outraged; my brother was outraged; and I was outraged.

Some of you may know about him but others might be curious: who is Binayak Sen?

The Physician and His Humanism

As we struggle to fight for “public health for all” in the US, including for the 45 million underprivileged members of our communities, you might perhaps appreciate a brief trajectory of Binayak and his wife Dr. Ilina Sen’s life.

In 1972 Binayak Sen received, first a MBBS, and then in 1976 a MD in pediatrics, both from the prestigious Christian Medical College in Vellore, India. He then joined as a faculty member in the Centre for Social Medicine and Community Health at the Jawaharlal Nehru University in New Delhi, one of India’s most well known universities.

After two years of academic career, Dr. Sen began his life–long work to serve the poorest of the poor with both his medical service as well as various innovative initiatives. He moved from New Delhi to Hisangabad in the state of Madhya Pradesh to work at the Friends Rural Centre, a community based health center. There, he worked for two years on the diagnosis and treatment of Tuberculosis, as well as to understand the socio–economic causes of the disease. He also joined the recently formed Medico Friend Circle, a national group of socially conscious individuals who recognized that the, “existing system of health care is not geared towards the needs of the majority of the people: the poor.”

In 1981 he moved to Dalli Rajahara in the state of Chhattisgarh. There, in 1983 he worked with mine workers and fellow physicians to set up the Shaheed Hospital that continues to provide low–cost medical care to mine workers and Adivasis (tribal people) of the nearby region.

In 1987 Sen left Dalli Rajahara and settled in the village of Bagrumnala. He was appointed a member of the advisory group on Health Care Sector reforms in the state government of Chhattisgarh. He helped develop the Mitanin programme that became the role model for the National Rural Health Mission. It’s a great irony that the same state government has now put him behind bars, for life.

In Bagrumnala, Binayak and his wife Ilina began to develop models of primary health care. They founded Rupantar, a non–governmental organization whose mission is to train and deploy community health workers across 20 villages. Here are few words from an article published in the Deccan Chronicle (May 27, 2009): “Ghasia Ram Netam, a health worker with Rupantar, the NGO founded by the Sens, introduced himself as the first tribal youth in his village to be trained as a laboratory technician. Every week, before he was arrested [in 2007], Dr. Sen used to visit the village clinic. ... This timely diagnosis [at the makeshift laboratory in the clinic] and immediate referral to district hospital saved many tribals from certain death. The nearest government–run primary health centre is seven km away and the doctor is frequently absent—an old, familiar story.”