Take away the hype, and there is little left in the Delhi-Lahore bus
to feel great about. An ancient or mediaeval monarch would have
laughed on being told that the rulers of modern India and Pakistan
considered a lone bus a matter of diplomatic achievement.
Normally, a new bus-service is something for a district collector or
an MLA to be proud of.
The Delhi-Lahore bus is different because its symbolic value is
totally disproportionate to its functional efficiency. When it was
first introduced four years ago, it symbolised the maturation of
nation-building in the two countries. Its withdrawal 18 months ago
signified India's anger over the attack on Parliament House. Now,
when the bus has been suddenly reintroduced, it symbolises the NDA
government's commitment to peace.
It does not take much effort to see through this state semiotic. The
feudal psyche of South Asian rulers is the real theme of the bus
story. From a modest transport facility, which the people should have
as a matter of right, the bus has been turned into an instrument for
manipulating the public mood. Its hype and glamour and the suddenness
of its withdrawal and resumption show that it is nothing more than a
political toy.
If it were a real, ordinary bus, why would it leave from Delhi? A
jeep with armed guard escorts it all the way to the border. Security
staff is posted at all three stops where passengers are given meals.
All this would be unnecessary if the bus ran between Amritsar and
Lahore, possibly as a shuttle plying three or four times a day. A
shorter run would mean greater convenience and safety for passengers,
and fuel saving. But then, Amritsar wouldn't have the symbolic value
Delhi has. Like the evening ceremony of gate-closing enacted at
Wagah, the bus has a mock heroic appeal. As it negotiates the long
route through Punjab, the national flags of the two hostile
neighbours impressively peep through the bluish windscreen. A bus boy
shouting Lahore, Lahore at the Amritsar bus stand wouldn't be as
exotic.
The bus fits in well with the festive character of earlier peace
initiatives. Remember the ethos conjured up for the summits at Agra
and Lahore? Both could be episodes in Harry Potter, constructed to
convey the illusion that peace was magic, attainable at a war-like
speed. The seasoned civil servants on both sides surely realise that
to be authentic, a peace process must be low-key and sustainable. But
perhaps their vision has been clouded by the new mana-gerial culture
of confidence-building. It promotes the belief that peace is a
posture; all it requires is a manual of appropriate moves.
Indeed, there now exists a whole new shastra that teaches the ritual
steps to be taken to mitigate conflict. Pundits of this shastra
discuss strategies of confidence-building in ways strikingly similar
to the strategies recommended by others for winning a war. Not
surprisingly, the pundits of the shanti shastra are often the very
same people who specialise in preparedness for war. This may be why
the road maps of peace indicate so unabashedly the time and spaces to
buy the latest bombs and aircraft carriers.
The conflation of war and peace expertise has taken away the element
of moral awareness from the idea of peace. Trying to achieve peace in
a few clever, fast strides would be as self-defeating as trying to
win a war with transparent integrity.
Some basic distinction between the concepts of peace and war must be
maintained in order to avoid the degradation of peace into a
strategy. In modern societies, no amount of confidence-building
measures can substitute the mobilisation of public support for an
anti-war policy. And this is where we see no preparation at all in
either India or Pakistan. In neither country has the leadership made
an attempt to mobilise public opinion in favour of peace and
reconciliation.
Over the years, it has become amply clear that ordinary citizens have
little to do with the decisions that governments take. Worse still,
any active mobilisation of public opinion through the news media,
cinema and education has always been in favour of violent conflict.
No examples can be cited where such means have been deployed for the
promotion of peace.
The case of education is particularly serious. This modern instrument
of ideological dissemination has served to legitimise and perpetuate
hostility. In my book, Prejudice and Pride, I have given numerous
examples from the textbooks used for the teaching of history in
Indian and Pakistani schools to make the point that education
reinforces the tension between the two countries. Schools do nothing
to sow the seeds of peace in young minds. They are also responsible
for keeping the two societies in the dark about each other.
A lot of Indians and Pakistanis maintain the illusion that they know
each other only too well. Often, their knowledge is no more than a
memory, a poster-image of Partition which is still capable of
arousing resentment and passion. A number of declarations made from
the SAARC platform have articulated the intent to promote a
futuristic regional perspective through education. Not a single step
has been taken towards this goal.
The resumption of an air-conditioned bus between Delhi and Lahore can
hardly compensate for the enormous backlog of the effort that needs
to be made to start undoing the sinister and madly expensive
preparedness for war.
Considering how limited a facility it offers, and how vulnerable it
has been to political whims and violence, we can't seek in it the
consolation that peace is being given another real chance.
HYDERABAD July 30. The pun is not lost on anyone... 'Bus' meaning enough in Hindi is the central metaphor of a short film revolving around the bumpy journey towards peace by India and Pakistan.
The film was co-produced by young students from the two countries at Karachi earlier this month during a 10-day educational tour by 15 Indian youths from Delhi, Mumbai, Bangalore, Hyderabad, Nasik and Pune. A tribal girl from Addatheegala in East Goadavari District, Andhra Pradesh, was also part of the group.
For 19-year-old Shazia Imroz, a second year degree student from old city of Hyderabad, who acted as a Pakistani actress of the same name, the opportunity to travel to the neighbouring country and share her views and feelings with young Pakistanis proved to be an exhilarating and memorable experience. The trip was co-sponsored by many NGOs, including Chicago-headquartered 'Play for Peace', which brings together youth from conflict areas to promote peace and compassion.
Narrating her experiences to The Hindu, the Hydearabadi lass said that they joined another group of 15 Pakistanis on July 3 at Karachi, where they were asked to jointly write the script, score music and produce a short film on conflict resolution centring around India-Pakistan relations.
"Bus" (enough in Hindi) was the theme of the short 10-minute film in which a group of Pakistanis, after missing their bus, board the same bus in which the Indians were travelling. Even as they befriend each other, misunderstandings develop with Indians blaming the Pakistanis for all their troubles and vice-versa. After a lull, one each from the two quarrelling groups, takes the lead saying they should not allow hostile attitudes to hold them to ransom and a new leaf should be turned in their relations. The film ends with all of them together singing a song symbolising the quest for peace.
"Before going to Pakistan, I thought that it was totally an Islamic country...However, I found women were dressed in modern styles with some of them wearing jeans.
I did not feel as if I was in a different country. The people, the language and the culture were so similar", she exclaimed.
During the Indians interaction with different sections of society in Karachi, the unanimous view expressed by all was that the two countries should live as friendly neighbours and a majority of the people wanted the removal of all hurdles in promoting people-to-people contacts.
One would have to possess a heart of granite not to have been moved
by the plight of the Iranian twin-sisters Ladan and Laleh Bajani.
Co-joined at the head for all the twentynine years of their common
life, they showed unbelievable determination in wanting to be
separated.
They disregarded an insensitive fatwa denouncing such an operation,
they defied their foster parents, they consciously took the risk of
undergoing a lengthy, complicated operation knowing that it could
result in their simultaneous deaths. And in the end, it did. What
nature had fused together, the painstaking diligence of medical
science could not rend asunder.
Their brief, brave lives though have not been a waste, for in their
act of self-sacrifice, Ladan and Laleh have provided a parable for
others to consider. The Pakistan government for one could learn from
their example. For the past fifty-six years (coincidentally nearly
the sum of the twins' lives), Pakistan has chosen deliberately to
remain co-joined at its head with Kashmir. To some observers, this
diplomatic deformity is a case history in itself, but not unique in
world history, no more than the Bajani sisters were the only
co-joined twins in medical history.
A squabble for political custody similar to the argument over Kashmir
occurred in northern Europe during the nineteenth century. It was
known as the Schleswig-Holstein question, and consisted of a tussle
between the small kingdom of Denmark and its larger and more powerful
neighbour Prussia over the two contiguous Duchies of Schleswig and
Holstein that lay in between.
From 1844 onwards, control of these inconsequential territories
oscillated between Denmark and Prussia with such confusing frequency
that Lord Palmerston (then the British foreign secretary) confessed
that there were only three people who had ever understood the
Schleswig-Holstein question: one was dead, the other had gone mad,
and he the third had forgotten what the original issue was.
Eventually, after almost eighty years of argument, in 1920, a
plebiscite was held. The north part of Schleswig voted to join
Denmark, and the southern opted for union with Germany. Today, most
of Schleswig-Holstein which has a population roughly half that of
Indian-held Jammu and Kashmir is a part of the present Federal
Republic of Germany, and no one except historians can be bothered to
remember why it was ever such an inflammable casus belli.By that
measure, the argument between India and Pakistan over Kashmir would
appear to have many more years to go before a comparable solution can
be found. During the past fiftysix years, though, ever since the
Maharaja of Kashmir's signature on the fateful instrument of
accession on August 25, 1947, almost as much ink has been spilt over
Kashmir as human bloodshed over it. Shelves of books have been
published on it, reams of articles written on it, yards of speeches
delivered on it, millions of grey cells have turned white over it,
and yet it remains a bone of contention between two neighbours, a
bone that is slowly petrifying into a fossil.
Is Kashmir such an intractable problem? Is it really the core issue
preventing a modus vivendi between the two countries? This is a
question that needs to be asked. It is a question that countless
young men and women on both sides of the border, in the dying moments
of their unnecessary martyrdom, have asked. It is the question that
every surviving mourner - every grieving mother, widow or orphaned
child - continues to ask every day that they are forced to live
without their loved ones. It is a question that one billion Indians
and 150 million Pakistanis are entitled to ask, of themselves and
their governments, today and every day, until a definitive answer is
forthcoming. Is Kashmir really the core issue?
To some, if it is indeed a core issue, it is the core that has been
left after the surrounding body flesh has been eaten away by Time.
Today, when the United Nations, half a century after its first
intervention in the dispute, finds itself emasculated, its aged
discoloured resolutions cannot be expected to have retained any of
their relevance. In any case, the outside world beyond the
subcontinent is suffering from Kashmir fatigue. It has heard the same
refrain sung too often, it is over-familiar with the repetitive
rhetoric, the same circular argument. Neither Pakistan nor India
needs to play to the international gallery anymore. They have lost
their audience; the gallery has emptied. Now, they have an audience
of only one - each other.
If Kashmir was essentially a political problem, then three
generations of politicians since 1947 should have been able to
resolve it by now. They have met often enough over the years - Ayub
Khan/Nehru in Murree, Ayub Khan/Shastri at Tashkent, Z.A. Bhutto/Mrs
Indira Gandhi at Simla, Benazir Bhutto/Rajiv Gandhi in Islamabad,
Nawaz Sharif/Vajpayee at Lahore, and the last time at Agra when
Musharraf interacted with Vajpayee. On each occasion, though,
something always prevented consummation.
Was it the force of public opinion on both sides? Definitely not. The
Kashmir question has never been put to the litmus test of a public
poll or a referendum by either side. What masquerades as 'public
opinion' in Pakistan is, in all honesty, nothing more than the
prejudices of right-wing editors of high circulation Urdu dailies.
Because they believe they mould public opinion, periodically they
take plaster casts from that mould and present them as fresh
impressions of the public's mind on any particular issue.
Why does Kashmir remain an issue then? Is there any other inhibiting
factor? Perhaps the answer lies in the question itself. It may need
to be re-framed: Is Kashmir a core issue, or simply a corps
commanders' issue?
One is aware that such a daring statement could be read in some
barracks as a sinister play on words bandied by an uninformed,
ununiformed civilian. It is not being proffered as a provocation. It
is intended as a genuine, earnest attempt to use a pen to cauterize,
even if only at the edges, and to let ink disinfect a wound that
should not be allowed to suppurate for another generation.
Whatever the solution to the Kashmir question may be - a plebiscite,
union with India, merger with Pakistan, independence, autonomy,
acceptance of the Line of Control, continuation of the status quo -
whatever may be the framework of a political or constitutional
settlement, it can only be signed, sealed, and delivered for
implementation after it has also been duly witnessed by the nine
Pakistani corps commanders.
Had President Musharraf enjoyed the unequivocal mandate to decide
Kashmir on his own, he would have done so when he was alone with
Prime Minister Vajpayee at Agra. It is because as the Chief of Army
Staff, he needs to take his corps commanders into this battle with
him, he needs their unanimous support. He cannot afford to rely on a
reluctant comrade, or lean on an impatient successor.
Is any government in Pakistan ever likely to fall should there be an
agreement over Kashmir? One doubts it. Whenever governments have
fallen as a result of public agitation as opposed to when they have
been removed by the military, they have invariably been sent home
over mundane issues like the price of sugar or the blatant rigging of
elections. If the public has choked, it is over such gnats; it has
swallowed elephants like the nuclear programme or constitutional
violations without a hiccup.
There will be one school of thought that will advocate letting the
sleeping dog of Kashmir lie. It has its uses, especially when
awakened. There is a much larger number on both sides of the border
which would want to see this ageing animal put to sleep. It would be
an act of mercy, a merciful end to far too many merciless killings.
Pakistan, unlike the co-joined twins Ladan and Laleh Bajani, has a
choice because its attachment to Kashmir is a deliberate, voluntary
act of political co-junction. The solution is simple. It requires
Bajani-like courage. Who knows? Both Pakistan and Kashmir may well
survive the trauma, and actually thrive as a result. If asked their
opinion, one billion Indians and 150 million Pakistanis would
consider the risk worth taking.
ISLAMABAD, PAKISTAN - Sohail Khan thinks he knows all he needs to
know when it comes to Pakistan's larger, predominantly Hindu
neighbor, India.
"Hindus cannot be trusted," the 15-year-old said firmly. "Since the
day Pakistan got independence, India has been trying to destroy us
any way they can with the help of other infidel nations."
Dismissing renewed efforts by both countries to reconcile their
bitter and bloody 55-year-long rivalry, he insisted, "Talk of peace
hides a different plan that only they know."
Young Khan's harsh words - echoed widely in varying degrees by
Pakistanis across the social and political spectrum - are hardly
surprising, because they are the product of a government-endorsed
curriculum taught in public schools around the country.
Pakistan's madrassa (religious school) system, where
ultra-conservative Muslim clerics dole out an excruciatingly narrow
world view, has achieved global notoriety for producing thousands of
young men dedicated to holy war. But the public school curriculum
weaves in many similar concepts - including insensitivity to other
religions, militancy and the glorification of war.
"Honestly speaking, there should be less fear of madrassa curricula,
which is comparatively limited in scope, and more fear of the books
being used in public schools," said Ahmed Salim, director of Urdu
publications at Islamabad's Sustainable Policy Development Institute
(SPDI).
"While President (Pervez) Musharraf has spoken passionately about the
goal of a modern, tolerant, progressive Pakistan, the curriculum used
is serving exactly the opposite purpose and will reflect upon his
policies badly," Salim said.
Public school textbooks are replete with examples.
A Muslim chauvinist view dominates the curriculum, and knowledge of
Islam and the Koran is compulsory, even for non-Muslim students.
Social studies teachers in grades 1 through 5 are ordered to include
units each year that instruct students in the concept and importance
of jihad (holy war), and even require youngsters to deliver speeches
on the subject.
The 10th-grade Pakistan studies textbook minces no words in its
endorsement of Islam:
"A good person is one who leads his life according to the teachings
of Allah and the Holy Prophet. He is pious and virtuous. He follows
the principles and teachings of Islam individually and collectively
and makes an effort to promote them. According to the teachings of
Islam, a person who follows the right path is distinguished from
others."
Intolerance toward other religions is often stated unequivocally.
"Hindu has always been the enemy of Islam," according to the
fifth-grade Urdu textbook.
The sixth-grade social studies book, chapter 5, tells of how
higher-caste Hindus have abused humanity by crushing the lower
castes, and how Buddhism was eventually corrupted after it arose to
challenge Hinduism. One sentence declares: "Islam preached equality,
brotherhood and fraternity. The foundation of Hindu (society) was
formed on injustice and cruelty."
The curriculum also stresses male superiority over women, sometimes
in subtle ways.
From the early grades, girls are depicted nearly exclusively in
traditional roles - such as helping their mothers in the kitchen,
taught in the pages of a third-grade Urdu textbook. Rarely are they
described as playing sports or having professions - and when they
are, they appear as foreigners or non-Muslims, like "Mrs. Brown," the
airline hostess in the grade 8 English book.
Even famous Pakistani and/or Muslim women are cast in stereotypical
roles. Fatima Jinnah, one of only a handful of women to appear in
Urdu textbooks, is cited only for serving as the nurse and fervent
supporter of her brother Mohammad Ali Jinnah, the founder of Pakistan.
Fatima Jinnah, in fact, was a pioneer, beginning her adult life as a
dentist who founded and ran her own clinic in Bombay before
abandoning the profession in the 1930s to join her brother's
political fight. She set up the All India Muslim Women Students
Federation in 1941 in Delhi and then formed the Women's Relief
Committee in 1947 (which eventually morphed into the All Pakistan
Women's Association, still active today). She later ran for president
against Mohammad Ayub Khan in 1965.
Warped accounts of history and reverence for Muslim or military
figures are drilled into students' heads - a holdover from the need
after the 1947 partition to create a vision of Pakistan as a nation
separate from India. The vision was then further refined by
successive governments for their own political goals - especially the
military, which has ruled by force for 30 of Pakistan's 55 years of
existence.
Salim says: "Throughout the formative years, children are presented
with pious glorious images of the military and given numerous
glorified accounts of military heroics and the respect that gains. If
a child learns that violence is a positive attribute, then that child
is more likely to resort to violent means in situations that don't
justify the action."
Textbook depictions of the subcontinent's bloody partition, a time
when 1 million people lost their lives through atrocities by both
Hindu and Muslim militants, are one-sided.
A passage in the fourth-grade social studies book stresses the agony
of Muslims making their way to Pakistan while glossing over the price
paid by others:
"They came leaving their homes, shops, agricultural, goods and beasts
in India. On their way to Pakistan, a large number of immigrants were
killed by the Sikhs and Hindus. They suffered a lot during their
journey. At that time Sikhs and Hindus as well left Pakistan for
India."
There were, in fact, enough atrocities to go around, and the
textbooks omit a two-month rampage in the Pakistani military city of
Rawalpindi that saw thousands of non-Muslims beaten, killed or maimed.
For most older Pakistanis, last year's riots in Gujarat, India,
during which mobs of Hindus hunted down Muslims after militant
Muslims torched a train carrying Hindu pilgrims, were a lamentable
continuation of post-partition scarring. But students see the event
as course work come to life.
"It's plain to see the Hindus can murder women and children and go
unpunished, but when the Muslims stand for themselves in India, they
are called terrorists," said teenager Khan.
School Principal Raifakat Hussein says that the curriculum's
selective history prevents a proper understanding of events and does
little to encourage self-criticism and analysis among the younger
generations.
"Children need to learn the truth about the history of their country,
society and government - even if it's not all pretty and neat," said
Hussein, who oversees the Montessori Primary School in the eastern
city of Lahore.
Educators, psychologists, lawyers and minority representatives joined
with the SPDI to study the current curriculum after its revision this
spring by the Musharraf government - which included improvements in
English grammar sections, and the slight toning down of the
glorification of holy war and dismissive references to non-Muslims.
Classroom priorities are centralized under the command of the
Education Ministry's Curriculum Wing.
"We are constantly looking at ways to revise, reorder and update,"
contended Haroona Jetoi, joint education secretary of the Curriculum
Wing. "Where there are problems they are addressed, and will continue
to be."
But participants in the study call the recent curriculum changes
"poorly defined alterations" unlikely to filter down into a mass
revision of textbooks. "Historical inaccuracies, omissions and
incitement to violence remain key features," said Salim.
Some government and education officials quietly admit that most
textbooks remain the same, and that many provincial-level education
officials are lax or content with the status quo.
There are no plans on the table for further curriculum changes in the
next five years.
And therein lies great danger, educators say.
"Children are impressionable - they are molded by what they are
taught," said principal Hussein. "If they learn intolerance and
hatred at a young age, it will stay with them their whole lives.
"If we are seriously talking about peace with India, modernization
and being part of the global community, how can teaching our children
to hate be compatible with those goals?"
LAHORE, July 21: Parliamentarians, journalists and experts from
Pakistan and India will assemble in Islamabad for a four-day
conference being held on August 9-12 by the South Asia Free Media
Association (SAFMA).
The conference titled 'Understanding, confidence-building and
conflict resolution' aims at exploring ways to initiate a process of
de-escalation, confidence-building and a sustained dialogue to
resolve conflicts and to build bridges of cooperation between the two
countries, said a news release issued here on Monday.
The event will be participated in by 45 Indians, including
legislators, editors/columnists and civil society representatives as
well as several Pakistanis.
All day he had been getting calls from people who said they were praying for the child’s health. He did not know whether those praying for her were Muslims, Hindus, Sikhs or Christians
I don’t just value the Indian throb in Noor Fatima’s heart, I love it. I also pray for India’s people, its children and the joy of their parents.
Noor Fatima is the 30-month-old who travelled to India by Dosti Bus for a heart surgery. Her tiny heart had two leaks and two of its arteries were choked. The successful surgery in a Bangalore, Karnatika, hospital involved three doctors working for six hours. Throughout the day, Noor Fatima’s parents received phone calls from India, Pakistan and all over the world. Callers of all nationalities and religions told them they were praying for the health of the child.
Dr Devi Sethi, the surgeon at the private hospital in Bangalore, said Noor Fatima was well and improving after the surgery. She said surgery on children was never easy. It was particularly difficult on children with a congenital defect. Noor’s father, Nadeem Sajjad, 35, and mother, Tayyeba Sajjad, 28, said the duration of the surgery was agonising. “It was only after the surgeons stepped out smiling that we relaxed,” they said.
They said they were found a lot of encouragement in India for Noor Fatima’s treatment. “For that we are grateful to Indians. We did not need the funds we were offered for the operation. We propose that the funds be used to set up a trust for the treatment of poor children in the two countries.” Nadeem Sajjad said the love he had found in India could only bode well for the relations between the two countries.
Noor Fatima’s mother said she thanked God and was grateful to the doctors in the Bangalore hospital for the successful operation. She hoped that the child would lead a normal life. She said they would take the child to see Taj Mahal once she was discharged from the hospital.
Earlier, children carrying placards wishing Noor Fatima well lined up the Bangalore streets during the surgery and total strangers visited the hospital to present bouquets to her parents. Nadeem Sajjad said he was impressed by the love and felt at home four thousands kilometres away from home. All day he had been getting calls from people who said they were praying for the child’s health. He did not know whether those praying for her were Muslims, Hindus, Sikhs or Christians and whether the prayers were being held at mosques, temples or churches but realised that these were human prayers for the cause of humanity.
The two days, Noor Fatima’s parents said, had left them great piles of best-wishes cards and flowers. They will carry home to Pakistan the message of love and friendship. “We need love for each other, justice and friendship. Both the neighbouring countries need to share the joys and sorrows.”
The government of Indian state of Karnataka, which has its capital at Bangalore, had offered Rs 10,000 assistance towards Noor Fatima’s treatment. The hospital, however, decided to forgo the fee. Her parents announced that they were setting up a joint Pakistan-India trust with the Rs 140,000 to help poor child patients in the two countries.
It is not just Noor Fatima. The two great Asian neighbours are also suffering from leaks in the heart caused by their ruling classes. Or else the ruling classes have the leaks as congenital defect and the arteries supplying blood to each other are choked. It is difficult, but not impossible, to treat the congenital defects provided the working poor in the two countries are allowed to perform the operation. Besides being Muslims, Hindus, Sikhs, Christians, Parsees and Buddhists, they are human. As humans, they can share one another’s joys and sorrows. They can include and participate. For this they need no third party, arbiter or mediator. Try if you will, like Nadeem Sajjad and Tayyeba Sajjad, the working people who operate on the heart will emerge smiling from the theatre.
Munnoo Bhai is a writer and columnist
Incalculable suffering of the past decade or more has helped the people of Jammu and Kashmir rediscover the old values of Kashmiriyat, something that expresses itself first and foremost as an overwhelming desire for peace and non-abrasive coexistence.
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WASHINGTON: For the first time in its history, the Association of
Pakistani Physicians of North America (AAPNA) which met in Florida,
earlier this month, invited two Indian peace activists to address one
of the sessions.
The invitees were Dr Amit Shah and Gautam Desai, both
Indian-Americans. Dr Shah is a member of the governing body of
American Association of Physicians of Indian descent (AAPI) while
Desai is co-founder and president of Develop-in-Peace (DIP), a
non-profit organisation, which is dedicated to promoting peace in
South Asia. He is also linked to the Association for India's
Development (AID).
Another invitee to the conference was Dr Pervaiz Hoodboy of the
Quaid-i-Azam University, Islamabad, who spoke on the issue of nuclear
proliferation in the subcontinent. He also showed a 35-minute
documentary called 'South Asia under the nuclear shadow.' The
screening was followed by a question and answer session. The message
of the documentary and the gist of the subsequent discussion was that
a nuclear holocaust in South Asia was a "real possibility" and that
the people of the region needed to work for a durable peace.
According to the Syed Asif Alam, head of the Association of Pakistani
Professionals, "Our Indian colleagues noted the influence of almost
50,000 physicians of South East Asia and argued for a proactive
stance from the community toward peace and prosperity in South Asia.
Issues pertaining to interracial and ethnic issues in India, with a
particular reference to the sectarian violence in Gujarat, India,
were also discussed. Deliberations at the meeting culminated in the
creation of a group called the Action-group of Physicians of South
Asia (APSA). It was decided that the initial focus of the group will
be on promoting exchange of intellectuals and activists between
India, Pakistan and America.
APSA will take up a series of activities, starting with the screening
of the documentary "South Asia under the nuclear shadow" for its
members and the public."
How heartwarming, how simple and touching and true, to wake up in the morning and find yet another Indo-Pak spring in bloom. To Baby Noor, bless her happily repaired heart, goes all the credit.
But however moving her story, the response to it - tributes, donations, political photo-ops and endless media filibustering - seems misplaced. It is wholly askew and out of proportion with everyday reality.
Not only do thousands of little children suffering from cardiac disorders in India and Pakistan die unnoticed each year, many perish because there is no money and no bus, far less a Lahore-Delhi bus, to carry them to a competent surgeon.
More pointedly, the outpouring of emotion over baby Noor is in chilling contrast to the anti-Pakistan feeling that prevailed between the summer of 1999 (Kargil) and December 13, 2001, the day terrorists attacked the Indian parliament.
The love-hate relationship between India and Pakistan, its endless saga of chills and thaws, is by now so repetitive and clinically schizophrenic that it should be a subject of psychiatric study at Sloan-Kettering rather than of political intervention at Capitol Hill.
To some of us (who’ve had the opportunity to visit Pakistan often since the mid-1970s) the persisting arguments, changing political regimes and hackneyed diplomatic phrases appear stupefyingly dull. (Example : “Kashmiri aspirations versus cross-border terrorism” has provided gainful employment to innumerable politicians, generals, bureaucrats and academic windbags on both sides of the border.)
Stand back and think: if such talk is monotonous for many Indians and Pakistanis, how does the rest of the world feel over a dispute that will be 56 years old next month? The world feels deeply bored. Sniggers dissolve into stifled yawns.
Still, what is at the bottom of these wild mood swings, veering from intense hostility and warmongering one summer to intense elation and generosity the next ? Why is middle class public opinion in India so malleable when it comes to Pakistan? Is the overblown Baby Noor episode a shabby media distraction for the silly season? Or is it just that Uncle Sam has acquired universal powers to solve all problems, from quieting warring neighbours to mending little girls’ hearts ?
I doubt it. If the two countries and its people were up for a bout of analysis on a shrink’s couch, it could be argued that they suffer from emotional damage, are unable to do with or without each other, and the accrued hurts could be passed on generation to generation.
For 20 years I went to Pakistan as a reporter, but also as a north Indian curious about family history and the unfinished business of Partition.
Strapped to the spinning wheel of love and hate, I turned away in the end. In some ways the place was a mirror image, with many of the distortions underscored. Greater than Pakistan’s fear of India’s size, economic power, military might ( or even medical expertise) was its fear of being swamped culturally.
I remember a Pakistani minister saying - it was yet another of those political springs - that the one Indian Pakistanis longed to see and hear on their soil was Lata Mangeshkar.
But the security risk would be too great, he sighed, “The crowds would be uncontrollable. There could be riots.” Years later I asked the great diva herself if she had been invited to Pakistan.
“Yes,” she said, “but I was advised by my government that it would be unwise.” In the current thaw it would be equally inadvisable for Aamir Khan or Shahrukh Khan to nip across.
It always struck me as strange, and ineffably sad, to enter into a debate about the Islamic nation state with people the bulk of whose Islamic history lay over the frontline.
Talking to ‘Kashmiri martyrs’ in Muzaffarabad was odd - no one spoke Kashmiri and the place did not remotely resemble Kashmir. Later, chatting to the large community of immigrants from ‘Azad Kashmir’ in Sheffield, I realised that they were from what was once a hill kingdom of old Punjab. They proudly called themselves Mirpuris, not Azad Kashmiris.
Enfrcing a religious identity is no compensation for political or regional aspiration. Paradoxically the worst thing to say to a Pakistani is that Partition was a mistake, an utterance that shades of Indian opinion, from liberal to orthodox, cannot resist repeating. It is lucky that Baby Noor made it on the first bus. But one swallow does not make a summer.
The people are taking over the business of creating a bond of trust
and affection between India and Pakistan. This is a happy development
considering that the two governments are circling each other like
frightened prize fighters. I was one among many who suggested that we
should move cautiously this time around but the two establishments
are taking this caution thing too far. Months after the first
breakthrough was made, we are still at the preliminaries.
The people's initiative started with a parliamentary delegation from
Pakistan taking the symbolic walk across Wagha. This poignant gesture
did serious damage to the artificial curtain of hate put up by the
two establishments. They were received with open arms and garlands of
roses amid loud slogans of friendship. The delegation went around
Indian cities spreading a message of peace and was treated with
respect and affection. This visit was not sponsored by the Government
of Pakistan.
Then, the well known journalist and occasional politician Kuldip
Nayyar came over with an Indian parliamentary delegation. They
visited major cities of Pakistan and interacted with a broad cross
section of the people. They were wined and dined and feted royally
and went back with great memories of friendship and love received
from the ordinary people. This visit was not sponsored by the Indian
government.
The people's initiative of peace continued with a Chambers of
Commerce delegation from Pakistan visiting Delhi. They had important
meetings with their Indian counterparts and were successful in
identifying areas of mutual trade. They also met the Foreign Minister
and were honoured by a meeting with the Indian Prime Minister.
Government of Pakistan has been at pains to point out that this
delegation had no official status.
Then the younger people got into the act. A whole host of young
journalist came over on the first bus from Delhi and had, according
to them, an exciting time in Lahore. They were so busy and their
programme so full that some hosts like the great Imtiaz Alam from the
South Asian Free Media Association could not trace them for a
pre-arranged dinner appointment. They met everyone; journalists, film
stars, politicians, students and were even treated to a sumptuous tea
by Governor Khalid Maqbool. Again, this visit was not sponsored by
the Indian government.
From Karachi, we hear that an Indian Youth delegation spent two weeks
with young people in that city and by all accounts had a fabulous
time. They sang songs together, swapped stories and experiences and
jointly visited every possible place of interest. Remarks by one
young Indian in an interview are revealing. He said that we had all
kinds of strange notions about Pakistanis before we came here. Now we
feel that they are more like us than anyone else. Hallelujah.
Not to be left behind this people's initiative of peace and
friendship, the Maulanas have now joined the act. Maulana Fazlur
Rehman and that irrepressible wit Hafiz Hussain Ahmed are now in
India. Fortunately for us, our Maulanas are of two distinct stripes.
There is the Jamaat-e-Islami that hates India and created a huge
uproar when Vajpayee visited Lahore. Then there is the Jamiatul
Ulemai Islam whose attitude is relatively soft. It has a close
affinity with the Indian religious school in Deoband and this may be
one reason for its moderate view on friendship with India. Maulana
Fazlur Rehman is making all the right noises in Delhi and he and his
party could become important players in a people's coalition for
peace.
The reintroduction of the bus journey between Delhi and Lahore seems
to have opened up a well spring of emotion among the two people. A
young Pakistani girl with a hole in her heart has been treated at an
Indian hospital free of cost. I have no doubt that this gesture would
be reciprocated at Shaukat Khanum Cancer Hospital, if someone came
over from India. The narratives flowing from the visits to each
others country always speak of special consideration, of friendship
and affection, of shopkeepers reducing prices or chaiwallahs or
roadside hotel wallahs offering free meals.
These demonstrations of love are not a put on or just for show. The
mutual bond of affection among the people is real despite Kashmir,
despite four wars, despite incessant and hateful propaganda, despite
the lack of contact. There are other neighbours of India and
Pakistan. Yet, one does not find the same spirit or the same feelings
from their people for us. When the Indians and Pakistanis meet
anywhere, they are drawn to each other. The same cannot be said of
the Iranians or the Afghans or even of the Sri Lankans or Nepalese.
This demonstration of affection or this love fest does not mean that
we do not have any differences or that we do not express them. We
argue and we quarrel and we disagree on many many things but it is
like a disagreement within a family. We are each others peers and
therefore will have emotions of jealousy or envy and even of hate. We
will try to keep each other down as people do with peers but this
does not mean that we are separate or alien.
This is the important point to understand. More unites us than that
which divides us. We share a culture and a language, at least with
people of North India. We enjoy each others music and avidly watch
each others plays or movies. (Plays from Pakistan, movies from India)
We play the same games and are good cricketers and atrocious
footballers. Our mannerisms are similar, our habits despite different
religions remarkably the same. It is because of this that we treat
each other like long lost brothers when we reopen contact after a
temporary or a long hiatus.
The two establishments are now no longer calling the shots in the
sense of determining the emotions of the people. The people have
moved on and their perception of each other is now independent of the
hate brigades on both sides. It is for the first time since 1947 that
I find people becoming the vanguard for peace between the two
countries. Every day, every week, and every month, the people are
telling the establishments through their actions to take a move on.
For a long time a myth has floated around our establishment circles
that anyone who deviates from the stated stand on Kashmir will be
destroyed by the people. Wrong. The people want the establishments to
move on from their stated stands and find a solution. And if a
solution is not found in a hurry, no matter. Keep it aside for the
next generation to decide and not let it become a millstone around
our neck.
The people want the borders to be opened up, for the visa regime to
be less tight, and for mutual interaction to take place. People want
to play and do business with each other. It is time that the two
establishments heeded this call and moved quickly towards a durable
peace.
In the wake of the resumed bus travel between India and Pakistan, the
seats were fully occupied on the Indian side, but from the Pakistani
side only a few visitors could make it. Let it be said that from the
Indian side, most of the travellers were journalists. There was a
delegation of young Indians travelling through Pakistan, too, despite
some uncivilised comments made about them in the Urdu press. It is
quite apparent that after a period of non-communication the Pakistani
high commission was able to be liberal about giving visas. Whoever
took the decision for this policy, it has paid off because the Indian
visitors have said things back home about Pakistan that puncture the
myth created by hostile Indian state propaganda.
One well-known Indian TV journalist has written to say that Pakistan
was nothing like what it was bruited about to be. The common
Pakistani, he said, was without prejudice; in fact, he showed
particular warmth and affection after finding out that the visitor
was an Indian. He was "pleasantly surprised" to find that living
under a government controlled by the military Pakistani society was
remarkably free and had one of the freest presses in the third world.
He went as far as saying that even the dress of common Pakistanis was
very comfortable, attractive and egalitarian. There were many like
him who entered Pakistan thinking that it would be an oppressed
society with a crazy anti-Indian orientation; but they went back
completely changed in their thinking. The warm treatment meted out to
them by lay Pakistanis at the individual level was simply too winning
in its ways.
Not long ago, India and Pakistan were playing the game of
diplomat-bashing, kicking out each other's officers from the high
commissions. Everybody knew what the charade was. Most of the staff
in the high commissions was fake. Most people designated as diplomats
from both sides were - and continue to be - spooks from the
intelligence agencies. The ambassadors were ordered not to give more
than a restricted quota of visas to avoid infiltration of RAW agents
who caused horrible incidents to take place in Pakistan. When the
spooks felt that too many visas had been issued they planted news in
the Urdu press about the now-famous "black cats" from India who would
cut a swathe through our lascivious politicians with their seduction.
The truth is that warmth was shown to the visiting Indians even as
Islamabad was accusing RAW of instigating the sectarian murders in
Quetta. What this proves is that no matter what the governments might
do to each other, the people don't register the official hostility.
It's as if a game is being played in which the rules don't extend to
private behaviour. Don't discuss the political issues because that
kind of thing gets lost in the miasma of indoctrination. What the
jihadis say here and Bal Thakeray says there is not the voice of the
people, but of a few who have a vested interest in war. At the level
of the people, Pakistan remains a humane society.
...and Pakistanis visiting India
The Pakistani press was probably too stunned by the gesture to
editorialise on the story of a two-year-old girl named Fatima whose
perforated heart has been successfully operated upon by Indian
doctors in Bangalore. The chief minister of Karnataka offered a
donation of Rs 10,000 and was on hand to welcome the patient, and the
total expense was taken care of when a large number of Indian donors
came forward. Yet the 34-seat bus that went from Lahore on Friday
last had only nine passengers in it as compared to the full Indian
bus that came to Lahore in exchange. But the fact is that when travel
between the two countries is relaxed and institutionalised, many more
Pakistanis are likely to visit India than vice versa, and that too
from the big four cities of Sindh, which are home to the muhajirs who
have come to Pakistan in their multitudes from India since
independence.
To be sure, visas are a problem. The consulates have remained closed
now for a long time. For Pakistanis wishing to travel to India the
closure of the consulate in Karachi is a source of suffering. India's
new high commissioner, Mr Shiv Shankar Menon, has just entered
Pakistan. He says he is going to relax the visa regime. Good. That
will help a great deal. But not everyone is happy in Pakistan about
people visiting India. The JUI's Maulana Fazlur Rehman who has just
gone to India has been editorially hauled over the coals by one
influential Urdu paper for having responded to the invitation of the
son of Maulana Hussain Ahmad Madani who had allegedly opposed the
Quaid-e-Azam in undivided India.
Like Bal Thakeray on the other side, there are many here who don't
want to have any truck with India unless it is to fight a terminal
war. But truth on the ground is quite different. It seems Pakistan
has got over its "successor state" complex and is no longer scared of
gestures that might smack of a "relapse". So what if an Indian at the
Piccadilly Circus says "we are one"? The issues are there and have to
be resolved. Goodwill at the level of the people will only help. On
the other hand, the "ill-will" practiced as a profession by the
spooks on both sides will create more problems and resolve nothing.
Our last high commissioner in New Delhi nearly got bumped off twice
because of these shenanigans. If Pakistanis start visiting India in
large numbers the Indian side must restrain deputy prime minister
Advani from starting a manhunt for those who may have unwittingly
overstayed.
Conflict is not new to South Asia. For long, the region has been
witness to violent conflicts triggered by international, religious or
ethnic differences. The Maoist insurgency in Nepal, the Tamil-Sinhala
conflict in Sri Lanka, the violence in Kashmir, religious tensions in
Bangladesh and India are some examples of conflicts that have either
led to continuing violence or are potential flash-points waiting to
erupt.
A close look at the issues that form a part of these conflicts
provides clear evidence of the complexity of these situations and the
enormity of obstacles in the peace processes. A set of diverse
factors -- social, political, religious, economic -- calls for
resolution at different levels. It is imperative that peace-builders
at all levels -- political actors, diplomats, conflict resolution
experts, academia, journalists, NGOs -- engage with the dynamics of
these conflicts.
As an Indian, I recognise, that the conflict between India and
Pakistan is one such a conflict, a solution to which has eluded the
two countries, for a very long time now. It would not be putting it
too strongly to say that the Kashmir issue has been talked about so
much that it has become difficult to comprehend. Perhaps it is not
just the views and reviews; but the problem in Kashmir has so many
dimensions to it that it requires a lot of thinking to get a clear
picture of the situation on ground. The media, in its own way, has
added to the confusion. Conflicting views about the will of the
Kashmiris have made it difficult for the common man to understand the
nature of the problem.
Fortunately, I have had the opportunity to meet my friends from
across the border. Last year, I attended a peace conference -- 'Focus
on Kashmir', at the United World College of South East Asia,
Singapore, which brought together 40 young Indians and Pakistanis to
work as a youth movement. Again, this year in June, I had the
privilege of participating in the Conflict Transformation Workshop
organised by Women in Security, Conflict Management and Peace
(WISCOMP) where I met people from Pakistan, Sri Lanka, Nepal,
Bangladesh and Tibet. The Pakistanis are as peace loving as the
Indians are and are equally anxious to resolve matters between the
two countries. When I recall the faces of the Pakistanis I have met,
something strikes my mind and tugs at my heart -- there is nothing
that marks a Pakistani different from an Indian. We look alike. We
wear the same kind of dresses. We understand each other's language.
In fact we are battling the same problems back home.
Wisdom lies in coming together to fight the plethora of problems that
plague India and Pakistan. The Prime Minister of Palestine, Mahmoud
Abbas' statement on the West Asia peace process, rings in my ears --
"Enough killing, enough tragedy, enough pain -- let's move forward
with courage to the future we all deserve." What is it that is
stopping India and Pakistan from moving on the path to peace?
Surely, the key to a peaceful resolution of the Kashmir problem is
sustained dialogue, both within the two countries, and between India
and Pakistan. Though it might be difficult for the two nations to
even accept each other's position as a starting point, the beginning
of a process of dialogue is of immediate importance. Beginning from
the groups within India and Pakistan, the talks must then extend to
the inter-state level. Grass root movements are of immense
importance, not only for preservation of peace but also for the
initiation of a political process. After 56 years of hatred and
border skirmishes, it is time we started thinking of a final
solution. Though the idea may sound far-fetched or even unrealistic,
sanity demands at least a movement in this direction.
It is high time that political bigwigs start thinking for the people
of Kashmir and rise above petty vested interests. Doing the right
things at the right time, and most importantly, doing them rightly,
is what can lead us to a peaceful future.... if only, wiser counsels
prevail.
The writer is a second year student of Journalism (Hons) at Lady Shri
Ram College, New Delhi, India
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