Ground Report: Ghaziabad Slum Dwellers Speak Out After Attack on Muslims

A slum nestled between the railway tracks and the Guldhar railway station in Ghaziabad bore the scars of the attack that alleged Hindu Raksha Dal (HRD) members inflicted on Muslims residing in the area. The assault targeted Muslim families under the pretext of them being Bangladeshi nationals. This attack is symptomatic of a larger and more insidious issue— the escalating communal tensions in India, fueled by misinformation and religious extremism.

“Is it so wrong to raise the voice of the Hindus in India that our president has been thrown in jail?” asked members of Hindu Raksha Dal in a recent video statement on X on August 12, after the arrest of their leader.

The violence, allegedly perpetrated by Bhupinder Tomar, better known as Pinky Chaudhary, was a direct response to a 24-hour ultimatum he had issued, demanding that the Indian government take action against alleged atrocities committed against Hindus in Bangladesh. According to the First Information Report (FIR) filed at the Madhuban Bapudham police station, the victims of the attack were not Bangladeshis, as Chaudhary and his men had claimed, but Indian citizens hailing from Shahjahanpur, Uttar Pradesh.

Eyewitnesses told this reporter that despite trying to explain to them that the families were not from Bangladesh, the mob ignored them, and continued their assault while shouting slogans and physically attacking the slum residents.

In the wake of Chaudhary’s arrest, support for him has surged on social media. Members of the HRD have issued threats of self-immolation if Chaudhary is charged under the National Security Act (NSA) by the Uttar Pradesh Police. The Central and state governments have remained conspicuously silent on the attack, while social media is awash with posts that attempt to justify the violence.

This narrative, was further perpetuated by influential figures like author and senior journalist Ashok Shrivastav, an anchor with Doordarshan. Shrivastav allegedly endorsed the attack by portraying the violence as an act of retribution for the alleged wrongs committed against Hindus in Bangladesh.

The lingering question is: Do marginalised Indian Muslims bear the brunt of violence intended as retribution for the plight of minorities in neighbouring countries?

Burnt Clothes, Shoes, and Bricks Left Behind

The slum where Indian Muslims bore the brunt of this violence is tucked away from the public’s view, hidden behind the narrow, winding lanes that snake through the Guldhar railway tracks away from the station.

Arun, a resident in the slum near Galdhar Railway Station Ghaziabad, showing the spot of the violence

Out of 30 houses, only four huts belonging to Muslim families were attacked. Arun, a 38-year-old waste picker, shared the grim details of what transpired. “They asked for names, and if it was a Muslim name or if they saw a skull cap, they started beating them,” he recounted. “They kept asking them to say ‘Jai Shri Ram.’ Why will they say that when they are not Hindus? When they didn’t, the group got even more violent,” he alleged.

Among the 30 slums, four Muslim homes were mixed in with Hindu neighbours. Now, only burnt clothes, shoes, and bricks marked where they once stood.

Burnt clothes and belongings of the Muslim slum dwellers that were attacked in the Ghaziabad, near Delhi.

 Arun said one of the families was Aslam’s, who had lived there for seven years. “They made mats from dried palm leaves and sold them at nearby stalls. They weren’t permanent—they spent six months here and then returned to their village in Shahjahanpur (UP),” he said. Despite living together peacefully for so long, the attack changed everything. “The group didn’t leave until all of them had fled the slum. I don’t think they’ll come back—everything they owned is gone now,” he added.

Empty and tarnished spot where the houses of Muslim slum dwellers were located in Ghaziabad.

Talking about their lives, Arun shared that other residents were extremely scared when the attack happened. “We have to fight day and night just to survive. As waste-pickers, we don’t exist for society—we collect bottles and trash from sewage lines and the streets,” he said. Within a few minutes, everything was burnt down, and the four families who lived there were forced to flee.

The Markers Between Hindu and Muslim Homes

Residents of slum near Guldhar Railway Station, Ghaziabad with Ram Mandir flags on top of the dwellings in the background

The few houses that were attacked were indistinguishable from the rest—until you noticed the subtle markers of identity. Arun kept raising the same question: how can you look at someone’s face or name and label them as Bangladeshi? But in a climate where communalism has been on the rise, the symbols of hate have become glaringly apparent—beards, skull caps, and names are enough to single someone out.

Sounding helpless, Arun said, "I thought Aadhaar card was proof that no matter what, we are Indians. But they looked at their face and declared them as Bangladeshi." He shared the profound sense of betrayal felt by those who were attacked, as their very existence in the country was questioned.

With around 30 houses crammed together, this slum is a place where life is an endless struggle, where each day is a battle to survive. But amidst the poverty and hardship, the lines of division, were starkly visible, as this reporter saw.

As soon as this reporter set foot in the slum, it was as if a switch had been flipped. The air, thick with tension, was charged with an undercurrent of fear and suspicion. The moment the residents realised an outsider had entered, many of them rose to desperately proclaim their Hindu faith. “Our house was not attacked, I am a Hindu, I have a Hindu name, it is the Mohammedans that were attacked,” insisted Sunita, 35, who has called this slum her home for the past two decades.

Her words were not just a statement of fact—they were a plea, a declaration meant to shield her and her family from the violence that had already torn through her neighbours' lives. The need to assert her religious identity, to draw a line between ‘us’ and ‘them,’ was palpable. It wasn’t just about recounting what had happened; it was about making sure that this reporter—and by extension, the world outside the slum—knew exactly where she stood.

A slum dwelling displaying the tricolour without the Ashok Chakra

The slum, once a melting pot of cultures and religions, had become a landscape divided by flags. This reporter noticed that every Hindu house displayed flags celebrating the Pran Pratishtha ceremony of the Ram temple in Ayodhya, or the Indian tricolour. But the tricolour wasn’t always right—one house displayed a flag without the Ashoka Chakra, making it the flag of Ireland, but its resident still proudly called it the flag of India.

These flags had become a protective shield, a marker of belonging. In stark contrast, the homes that lacked these symbols—like the Muslim house next to the Hindu one with the Ram Mandir flag—were targeted, marked as outsiders, and broken down. These subtle distinctions made the difference between safety and destruction, between inclusion and being cast out, as a resident remarked, “They (Muslims) didn’t have these flags on their houses. They should have put them.”

Rising Symbols of Communal Intolerance

Indian flag along with the Ram Mandir Pran Pratishtha flag being sold on the main road near Guldhar Railway Station, Ghaziabad

"The politics of symbolism plays a crucial role in shaping the public's subconscious perceptions," says Aliza Noor, a journalist dedicated to exposing the suppression of minority rights in India. Reflecting on her on-ground reporting, particularly during the recent Kanwar Yatra, she observes, "Houses and cars adorned with aggressive Hanuman posters and deep orange flags distributed ahead of the Ram Mandir’s inauguration have become symbols for Hindus to assert their alignment with extremist politics."

In today’s climate, she argues, these symbols also serve as protective markers when Hindutva mobs target their Muslim neighbours. Noor elaborates on the deep-seated impact of these symbols on the Muslim community: “Even where I live back home, most houses have Ram Mandir flags. So how are we supposed to feel? Muslims don’t feel safe, and there’s no trust left to confide in anyone or take it up with anyone.”

Social media also significantly influences the subconscious narrative. "According to surveys like those by the Islamic Council of Victoria, over 50% of global anti-Muslim hate tweets originate from India, and the situation has worsened in the context of unrest in Bangladesh," says Noor. She highlights that the language used in social media posts, especially by influential personalities, is critical. These posts often shift focus from the truth of the incidents, instead feeding into bias and bigotry.

Who is Pinky Chaudhary?

Posters of Pinky Chaudhary extending best wishes to Kanwar Yatris across Madhuban Bapudham in Ghaziabad.

The influence of the Hindu Raksha Dal and the outpouring of social media support for Pinky Chaudhary extend far beyond the recent incident. Despite repeated offences, posters featuring Pinky Chaudhary's image, offering his wishes to Kanwar Yatris, were seen across the district of Madhuban Bapudham by the reporter. With headquarters in Shalimar Garden, Ghaziabad, this organisation is known for spreading communal hate and tension. Back in January 2020, Chaudhary brazenly claimed responsibility for the attack on Jawaharlal Nehru University students in a video posted on Twitter, facing little to no action from the police. Despite this history, Chaudhary has repeatedly evaded significant legal consequences. In April 2021, he was booked for inciting violence against AAP MLA Amanatullah Khan, offering a reward for anyone who would bring him Khan’s head. He was finally arrested in 2021 for hate speech in Jantar Mantar, but was released on bail after just 53 days. His repeated offences, ranging from inciting communal violence to misbehaving with law enforcement, have only bolstered his image among his followers.

Even after being charged under the Goonda Act of Uttar Pradesh in October 2023, Chaudhary’s influence remains undiminished. His most recent arrest, following the attack on the Ghaziabad slum, marks a significant moment, but whether it will lead to meaningful action remains to be seen.

Belongings of the Muslim slum dwellers at the site of the attack in Ghaziabad

The burden of being a minority in such a climate is enormous. On August 10, thousands of people took to the streets of Bangladesh to protest against the widespread attacks on Hindus. In response, the interim government's Home Affairs Advisor, Brigadier General (Retd) M Sakhawat Hossain, issued a public apology to the Hindu community for failing to protect them as violence swept through the country.

In India, minorities are often scrutinised and questioned about their loyalty, face accusations of being linked to Bangladesh or Pakistan, and even the smallest markers of faith can lead to violence and discrimination. As these communities endure relentless marginalisation and persecution, the question arises: will they ever receive an apology from the likes of Pinky Chaudhary, and other such outfits?

Shubhangi Derhgawen is a freelance journalist based in Delhi.