McDonald's Fries, Vegetarians, and a Hindu Lawyer, a tale of...

[Guest guest]

Ole McDonald Had A Cow

 

Wannabe swami Harish Bharti takes on the food giant and wins one for the

cowbelt expats in the US of A

 

A.K. Sen

 

Harish Bharti bethinks himself a modern-day Robin Hood, taking money from

big corporations and distributing it among their powerless, gullible

"victims". But in his latest avatar, the lawyer is more akin to David,

knocking down the mighty Goliath of the global food market, McDonald's, and

gladly watching them eat humble pie.

 

Perhaps McDonald's hadn't before come across a lawyer as diligent and

committed as Bharti. "Taking on McDonald's seemed a crazy idea," he

reminisces. But Bharti courageously filed a class action lawsuit in the name

of Hindus and 15 million vegetarians in a California court and another in

Washington state against McDonald's, in May 2001. His charge: McDonald's had

deliberately misled its vegetarian patrons in using beef tallow in its

French fries and hash browns long after making a widely-publicised pledge to

cook them in vegetable oil.

 

The lawsuit ultimately led McDonald's to admit it used beef extract, not

tallow. The ruling in the twin legal action early March declared it

compulsory for McDonald's to disclose the ingredients comprising its

products, establish a vegetarian advisory panel to oversee relevant dietary

restrictions and guidelines and pay a huge $10 million in compensation to

vegetarian and Hindu organisations across the US.

 

"We are working on a list of organisations that promote Hinduism," Bharti

says, adding, "Drawing up that list is the easy part. The tough part was

bringing McDonald's to its knees. It is known to be the most arrogant

corporation in the world and one that doesn't take criticism kindly."

His personal experience goaded Bharti into filing the suit. A vegetarian

himself, Bharti says he felt humiliated when he took Dr Weetraganand, a

physician-turned-swami friend from India, to a McDonald's restaurant in

Seattle for some French fries. "I thought that was the only vegetarian item

he could eat," Bharti explains, adding with anguish, "I was a host to the

swami and I became responsible for feeding him something he would rather die

than eat."

 

Taking on the might of the multimillion-dollar fast-food chain, supported as

it is by a battery of highly-paid lawyers, was indeed daunting: "There is

always concern at the back of your mind but this did not deter me." Many in

the legal community discouraged him, believing it both foolhardy and

perilous to confront McDonald's. But his wife Anoop provided him the crucial

moral support. "If I didn't have her support, I wouldn't have been able to

take these guys on. She's like an angel," he gushes.

 

Many say the $10-million compensation's nothing but Bharti's happy: "Ten

years on, no one will remember the money. But this apology and disclosure

will change the way the food industry treats its customers. McDonald's is

the leader in the industry and everyone else will have to follow."

 

Bharti helped frame the apology, soon to be published in papers across the

US. Its text reads: "McDonald's sincerely apologises to Hindus, vegetarians

and others for failing to provide the kind of information they needed to

make informed dietary decisions at our US restaurants." Acknowledging that

in its switch to vegetable oil in the early '90s "mistakes were made" in

communicating to the public details of ingredients in its fries and hash

browns, the apology will admit these included instances where the potato

products sold at US restaurants were improperly labelled as "vegetarian".

Preens Bharti, "In the last 100 years, this is the

first big food corporation to apologise, admit wrongdoing and pay millions

in compensation. I'm proud of that. I wouldn't trade more money for an

apology." (Incidentally, McDonald's also assured customers that all chips

sold at its Indian outlets "do not contain any beef or animal extracts of

whatsoever kind".)

 

Among those prompt in lauding his efforts was Union minister Maneka Gandhi,

herself a fighter of many a vegan cause. She sent an e-mail congratulating

Bharti for providing "a body blow to that Satanic empire!" These days, the

lawyer is revelling in his success. "What gives me the most satisfaction is

that when you win a case like this, you make changes in society which are

substantial."

 

And to think the do-gooder could have been lost to the legal community had

he not listened, believe it or not, to his astrologers. Bharti confesses, "I

wanted to be a swami but was told by astrologers and swamis alike that I

should work out my karmic debt by living within society and after doing

this, think about becoming a swami." Before making a decisive choice about

his career, Bharti studied the Vedas for seven years in Punjab with Swami R.

Vaidyanathan, a nuclear scientist-turned-swami. So, why the legal

profession? A big factor was that he shared his birthday with Mahatma

Gandhi. "I too was born on October 2 and, like Gandhiji, I too am a lawyer."

Bharti moved to Seattle from Punjab, in January 1983. Here he soon made a

name for himself as a "legal eagle". Claiming his profession is the most

effective way to battle injustices in society, he says belligerently, "I

like going after mighty corporations."

 

Bharti is now prosecuting a class-action lawsuit against Boeing on behalf of

several thousand Asian-American engineers. And he's fighting the case

gratis, hoping to win and get Boeing to foot his bill. If he does not win?

"I don't get paid," he says.