Twenty-four hours afterward, you could be forgiven for wondering whether Bombay's deadliest terrorist attack in a decade had really happened. The freshly scrubbed pavements around the Gateway to India were heaving once again with beggars, tourists and balloon sellers. Uptown in Zaveri Bazaar, the gold and silver traders had taken it upon themselves to bag up all the stray limbs, hair, teeth and fingers, boarded up their broken windows and opened for business. Commuters packed trains as usual, and the stock market soared to a 29-month high. The newspapers all but ignored the 52 people killed and 175 injured when a pair of five-kilogram suitcases packed with explosives detonated in the trunks of separate taxis in southern Bombay. They chose instead to marvel at the city's indomitable resilience. MUMBAI BOUNCES BACK, BUSINESS AS USUAL, trumpeted the Hindustan Times. "Bloody Monday has already become another tale to tell your grandchildren."
It was an oddly upbeat reaction from a city that has now suffered seven terrorist attacks in just nine months, with a combined death toll of 69. But the truth is that many in India have good reason not to dwell too deeply on this upsurge in violence—not just businesspeople in the financial capital but also the national government itself, which many blame for inciting such attacks. Typically, India points a finger at Pakistan anytime terrorists strike. But in this case, a quiet consensus is building that the perpetrators were most likely homegrown. Both Indian and U.S. intelligence officers suspect that last week's blasts were the work of militant Indian Muslims angered by the government's strident Hindu nationalism—particularly by the 2002 pogrom in the western state of Gujarat in which Hindus killed 2,000 Muslims while local and national leaders from the Bharatiya Janata Party (BJP) looked on. The bombers "were our boys," asserts a senior officer with India's intelligence service, the Research and Analysis Wing (RAW). He characterizes them as a "little caucus, scarred by Gujarat." An American source agrees that this is a domestic matter, not part of the broader war on terror: "We don't feel this is our issue."
Other observers have little doubt that the BJP and its extremist Hindu allies in Gujarat bear some responsibility for provoking last Monday's attacks. "For the carnage we are now witnessing, politicians who have built their careers on hate must, in the final analysis, be held to account," wrote the moderate Hindu newspaper. So far, however, the BJP has shown little appetite for introspection or candor on the subject of its own culpability. That's a mistake, says Mushirul Hasan, a professor of history at Delhi's Jamia Millia Islamia University. "The government should say, 'This could be the result of what happened in Gujarat.' Then people would see that they were taking a fairly decent position instead of trying to brush it under the carpet."
Yet the professionalism of the latest attack also raises concerns that SIMI might be functioning with more sophisticated help from abroad. Monday's blasts involved the use of RDX explosives, which are favored by several Pakistan-based Islamic militant groups and which are far more lethal than the crude agrochemical devices deployed in previous strikes in Bombay. The coordinated timing of the detonations to within 15 minutes of each other was a further sign of increased technical prowess.
A Pakistani intelligence officer concedes the possibility that "maverick elements" among the Kashmiri militant groups—acting without Islamabad's support—might have been involved. And Umar wasn't coy about his willingness to use outside help, saying that "Whatever support we need, we ask and they give us." A Dubai-based Islamic militant leader even suggests that SIMI is part of a loose terror alliance that includes the Pakistani Lashkar-e-Toiba and Jaish-e-Mohammmad, as well as Palestinian and other Middle Eastern groups. He says operatives have named themselves Ikhwan (brothers) and are sworn to avenge atrocities or injustices against Muslims in India, Israel and even Europe.
Not surprisingly, India's more hard-line Hindu politicians have been quick to seize upon the possibility that Pakistan—not Gujarat—might be to blame for the Bombay attack. Visiting the scene of the blasts, Deputy Prime Minister Lal Krishna Advani declared, "Pakistan's nefarious designs are not limited to Kashmir or Punjab but to the whole of India." He specifically cited his suspicion that "SIMI has been acting in conjunction with the Lashkar-e-Toiba." Similarly, Gujarat's BJP chief minister, Narendra Modi, who returned to office last November on a wave of Hindu self-assertion, blames what he calls Pakistani secret-service "modules." And he denies any personal responsibility for sparking an anti-Hindu backlash. "There is a fashion to blame everything on Gujarat," he tells TIME.
By India's standards, though, reactions to the blasts were relatively subdued. There was no violent Hindu response, as has happened so often in the past, and the charges against Pakistan seemed somewhat half hearted. Even Bombay's BJP-allied Shiv Sena party, normally vociferously anti-Pakistan, held an uncharacteristically silent protest march. The change from a year ago—when India and Pakistan were on the brink of war and New Delhi seized any opportunity to point a finger directly at Islamabad—is "striking," says a Western diplomat in Delhi. "India knows that this is a local issue, but 18 months ago that wouldn't have stopped them," he says. "Now, there's a real united commitment to Vajpayee's peace process."
Pakistani Foreign Minister Khursheed Mehmood Kasuri added to the mood of determined reconciliation, declaring that "We should avoid the conditioned reflex of blaming each other for any incident that may happen in our countries." One of Kasuri's aides went further: "The Indians know that we have nothing to do with these bombings, and neither India nor Pakistan is going to let terrorist acts derail our peace talks."
At home, however, the BJP government is showing none of the same sensitivity. Perhaps the most divisive issue between Indian Muslims and Hindus is the disputed holy site of Ayodhya, in the north. When a Hindu mob tore down the ancient mosque at Ayodhya during a BJP rally in 1992, it sparked bloody riots across the country and Bombay's first bombing campaign—a deadly day of strikes in March 1993 by the city's Muslim underworld that killed 257 people. Last week, on the same day as the latest Bombay blasts, the government-run Archeological Survey of India (ASI) lent official support to the Hindu fundamentalist cause, declaring that new excavations at Ayodhya reveal the mosque was built over an elaborate Hindu temple. Several academics scornfully dismissed this as a BJP political maneuver rather than a legitimate archeological revelation. "This is a totally doctored report," says University of Delhi history professor D.N. Jha. "They've created this temple out of nothing." (ASI archeologists declined to comment, saying they are forbidden to talk to the media.)
To many Indian Muslims, this timely discovery is just the latest example of continuing discrimination by the Hindu majority—regardless of India's recent peace overtures toward its Islamic neighbors. And it is precisely such inflammatory handling of Indian Muslim sensibilities that fuels Umar's lethal rage. In his interview with TIME, Umar asserted that "Hindus have been pushing us for a long time," and he vowed revenge in the form of further violence—possibly even against India's top political leaders. "People like Modi and Advani will be dealt with soon," he warned darkly. Informed of this statement, Indian police and intelligence officials were quick to dismiss it as an empty threat. "I don't think we have to worry about our national leaders," says the RAW officer. "Their security is very tight." He adds, "Unless we're complete dolts, we'll catch up with them, maybe after two or three more attacks." As for Modi, he responds, "Whatever price I pay for fighting terrorism, I will pay."
A statement of defiance, for sure, but one that may sound more like an invitation to Umar and his friends.