Evo Morales and South Asia’s homegrown settlers

TAKE any objective historiography, the election of Evo Morales as Bolivia’s first indigenous American president should hold an important moral lesson for much of the post-colonial world, including South Asia. What we see in South Asia today is a pattern of state-sponsored ethnic violence that seems to weld together almost all its member states into a single ideological bonding. In other words South Asian nation states quite palpably represent the hegemony of recent settlers — from the progenies of mediaeval Mughals, Arabs, Iranians, Turks, Afghans etc. to the relatively ancient Vedic Aryans — who have been engaged in uprooting and hunting the region’s oldest residents: its tribes-people.

From the unending assaults in Pakistan on the heirs of the ancient people of Balochistan or the North West Frontier Province, turn to Nepal where an institutionally older settler king of upper caste Indian stock is the ruler. He is now locked in a grim battle for survival against the country’s original predominantly tribal residents who are these days known as Maoists. In Bangladesh the native Garo tribes-people are among the older inhabitants struggling for survival against Bengali settlers. In Sri Lanka, Sinhalese settlers are engaged in a full-blown war with the island’s older Tamil inhabitants.

A cursory look at the map of India reveals vast, even overwhelming, swathes of predominantly tribal territory. They range from the country’s heartland in Maharashtra, Orissa, Madhya Pradesh, Jharkhand, Chhattisgarh and Andhra Pradesh to the far-flung north eastern corner, the so-called seven sisters. This map would show up the true ethnic identity of this vast country. It mostly tells the story of dispossessed tribes and their Dalit brethren subjugated by an increasingly strident state whose ethnic composition is vastly different from theirs.

There is something else that is common to South Asia’s tribes-people with regard to Bolivia’s new president. Even before his election last month Evo Morales was known as Washington’s “biggest nightmare” in Latin America. Is it a mere coincidence that the original inhabitants of the Indian subcontinent too are uniformly almost to a man ranged against the growing political influence of the United States in their region?

It is easy to ascribe this innate anti-US anger among Pakistan’s tribes-people to jihadism or Muslim fundamentalism. But we still have to explain how this apparent religious extremism of Baloch and Frontier jihadis gels with the equally staunch anti-American sentiments that Maoists in Nepal and Naxalites in India display even though they are atheists, inherently opposed to Islamic jihad.

Several rightwing Indian think-tanks have sought to explain this phenomenon but perhaps because of the nature of their ideological commitments have failed to throw up a compelling explanation.

“India has more reasons to be concerned over the likelihood of the success of the Maoists of Nepal than any other country,” warned former Indian sleuth B. Raman in February 2005. “The government of India and 13 states of the Indian Union have been struggling in vain for some years now to bring under control the spreading prairie fire of Maoism, fanned by Maoist groups operating under different names.”

In his commentary that seeks to come close to the truth, Raman concedes: “The Maoists have strong bases of ideological support in the tribal belt of India right across the land due to the years of economic and social injustice and sheer servitude to which the tribals have been subjected by feudal landlords and the so-called upper caste Hindus. These tribals, the poorest of the poor, are subject to double exploitation — by the feudal landlords and the so-called upper caste Hindus, with the complicity of the state, in order to suck them economically and by the educated leftist and Maoist ideologues.”

In fact, he noted: “Last year (in 2003), there were no deaths due to the activities of jihadi terrorists in Indian territory outside Jammu & Kashmir, but there were more than 500 deaths due to the activities of Maoists. Mao and his thoughts are proving more lethal in India than Osama bin Laden and his fatwas.”

Let us for a moment suspend the notion of extremism from amongst South Asia’s alienated and exploited tribes-people. Are we ready to give them the democratic option, like the one that came President Morales’ way? Morales is a charismatic figure who represents two important strands in Bolivia’s political traditions. An indigenous Aymara leader, he is also the spokesman for the country’s powerful socialist and nationalist current that surfaces regularly in each generation.

Contrary to the accepted wisdom, the alliance between these traditions is expected to provide his government with a degree of stability in the political conflicts that lie ahead.

Underlying the history of the country’s majority indigenous population is the harsh legacy of centuries of Spanish colonial rule as well as the bleak inheritance of the independent governments of the 19th century. These brought in fresh swathes of European settlers who, provided with land, reinforced the practice of Indian slavery and oppression.

Let us also not forget that the Cuban revolutionary Che Guevara was shot in eastern Bolivia in 1967, as well as Tupac Katari, the leader of the rebellion against Spain in 1780.

Since the United States of America was founded by European settlers, many of whose heirs still justify the decimation of the indigenous Indian populations, it is not surprising that it sees a glimpse of its own history in the shaping of Israel as a model country of armed settlers.

Does Morales’ victory in Bolivia indicate a democratic option for South Asia to undo the continuing injustices of history inflicted on the region’s native people. It is easier said than done. In India, for example, the Hindu right is plotting to divide the ranks of the tribes-people by injecting religious prejudices among them.

In many northern states, for example, an entire campaign is underway to “reconvert” the tribes-people from Christianity to their purportedly Hindu past. Once that is achieved these people would become the foot soldiers of neo-fascism, a glimpse of what we saw in Gujarat. But if a democratic empowerment of South Asia’s indigenous people seems elusive, can we stop them from taking to arms?

IT WAS disconcerting to see Gen. Musharraf laying into Ayaz Amir in a recent interview with an Indian TV channel. Ayaz, who was not there to defend himself, is not just a fellow colleague from Dawn whose slings and arrows the army establishment in Pakistan has to bear week after week, but a powerful writer who is respected and feared by the Indian establishment, including our editors.

Prime Minister Vajpayee once quoted him in parliament from a prescient piece about Pakistan’s strategy in Kashmir. That commentary has more or less become the bedrock of the composite dialogue with India. And, by the way, what is the great media organization called SAFMA (which stands for free media) doing? Shouldn’t it have responded in kind to the uncalled for singling out of a fellow journalist by the country’s most powerful man?

In a straight one-on-one comparison, the Indian state is not any less harsh on its own dissenting journalists and writers. But it can also be subtle in its reproach. For example, take the stance of the Indian state towards rebel writer Arundhati Roy. It awarded her the nation’s highest literary honour — the Sahitya Akademi Award. But Ms Roy being a seasoned street-fighter would not be co-opted by this generosity. She promptly declined the award on the grounds that she could not accept anything from a state whose policies she opposes.

jawednaqvi@gmail.com

Rebuilding the left in South Asia

NOOR Sajjad Zaheer is the youngest daughter of Sajjad Zaheer, one of the pioneers of the Progressive Writers’ Association of India (Anjuman Tarraqi Pasand Mussannifeen) and founding secretary-general of the Communist Party of Pakistan.

As a member of the Communist Party of India she was part of a caravan of leading progressives and Marxists from India who came to Karachi to take part in the centenary celebrations of Sajjad Zaheer. The star-studded Indian delegation included Noor Sajjad’s husband, film actor Raj Babbar.

Her book of reminiscences of her father’s political and cultural life titled ‘Mere Hisse ki Roshnai’ (My share of the ink) pertains to her family’s life from 1964 to 1973 and has become a best-seller in progressive circles.

Noor Sajjad took time off from a hectic schedule to talk to Dawn. She believes that despite the thrust for globalization and the prevailing neo-colonialism, the left is both needed and has bright prospects ahead.

Her optimism is not confined to India but includes Pakistan, although the feudal and civil and military bureaucracy is well-entrenched here. Even political parties founded on ideology have compromised and there is hardly any politics left. Pakistan’s leftists and Marxists too seem to have been swallowed up by the dragon of NGOs. In fact except for the country’s formative years, progressive elements have never had an organized, broad-based platform.

Noor Sajjad was born in Lucknow on Jan 22 1958. Besides being a member of the Communist Pary, she also runs a theatre group within the framework of the Indian People’s Theatre Association.

“In the contemporary world”, she says, “the forces of evil are gaining the upper hand against those who are striving for a peaceful society based on human dignity and equality.” But she sees light at the end of the tunnel. Globalization and western imperialism were once again trying to subjugate every country by blocking the class struggle and perpetuating capitalism.

It is, therefore, imperative for the media and men of letters to educate people about the consequences of the neo-colonialism which has become active since the dismemberment of the Soviet Union, Noor Sajjad said. In this connection she says workers of the region must unite and evolve a joint strategy from trade union platforms in which industrial workers and farmers close ranks.

She appeared quite amazed to see the intrusion of NGOs in Pakistan in almost every sphere of life — even in the centenary celebrations of her father. She believes that such a trend is perhaps counterproductive to ideological politics.

Noor Sajjad described her Pakistan visit as “unforgettable” during which it was possible for her to meet many people and establish new contacts. “I was overwhelmed by the hospitality of the people of Pakistan and our visit to Moenjodaro has left a lasting impression”.

When I asked why the Indian delegation, and even the Pakistan side, had few younger cadre, she said from the point of view of the left in Pakistan and also in India the movement was going through a “rebuilding process, the movement is being revived”.

In India she claimed a large number of young people were being attracted and were getting involved with issues of social and economic concern.

She emphasized that besides increasing people-to-people contact between India and Pakistan, it was necessary to have an exchange of ideas. This can only be done by building pressure on each other’s governments

Noor Sajjad still recites poems about the glory of the “surkh parcham” — the red flag — and “surkh salam” and works in the villages alongside the hardy cadres of the CPI, thanks to the organizational drive of its leaders and the growing number of poor in one of the world’s leading democracies.—Shamim-ur-Rahman

The needy be damned

DESPITE the heat generated by the Kalabagh controversy, Karachi saw some of its lowest temperatures in years during the past fortnight or so. However, there were signs over the Eid holidays that the cold spell was beginning to lose its bite, and the weather was becoming almost balmy. Fresh snow in Quetta may bring in another bout of low temperatures and cold winds, but for the while the rush to buy gas or electric fan heaters appears to have been a little precipitate.

Eidul Azha passed off in its traditional manner, with the public’s usual disdain for hygiene or indeed for the true spirit of sacrifice: refrigerators and deep freezers in affluent households were brimming with choice cuts of meat, the needy be damned. Hides were as always in demand by political, religious and social organizations. In view of the restrictions imposed by the administration, new strategies were devised to collect as many hides as each organization could. Mercifully, there were fewer complaints of hide snatching than in previous years. Looking at some of the pictures published in the vernacular papers of camels being sacrificed, with the blood running down in a stream to the ground, you wondered what purpose such gruesome images serve.

Winter is supposed to see a spurt in cultural activities (apart from the upsurge in weddings), but there has been something missing this time around. The pace might pick up once the confidence of foreign missions in the city’s law and order gains strength. It may sound ironical, but it is foreign centres that lend spice and variety to Karachi’s cultural scene. That is why the indigenous effort reflected in the weekly Koocha-i-Saqafat deserves great credit.

The Alliance Francaise staged the launch of the book The Lamp of Love by Amatullah Armstrong Chishti, an Australian lady who abandoned everything western and married into the Sabri family in search of spiritual goals. In her book she has described her experiences while living with the Sabris.

The launch was followed by a qawwali concert. Sami Sabri enthralled the audience with devotional songs made immortal by Ghulam Farid and Maqbool Sabri. “Tajdar-i-Haram ho nigah-i-karam, Bhar do jholi meri” and other popular qawwalis were presented, with the concert continuing late into the night. Even the foreigners in the audience were seen tapping in tune with the music.

Many events such as this concert and art exhibitions at the Alliance Francaise are open free to the public. Entry to some of the programmes is through tickets for non-members. If the general environment improves, the British Council might also consider reopening its library, which was seen as of being immense importance by students. The American Centre was wound up long ago, but the Japan Cultural Centre regularly organizes Ikebana exhibitions and exhibitions of Japanese dolls, handicrafts, etc. The Goethe Institut, housed on its new premises on Burton Road, in the Civil Lines, is also active.

Carjackings

Armed with a PhD from Britain’s University of Birmingham, and fired he says with a spirit to serve his country, a former colleague at Dawn returned here last month. He says he had spurned an offer by the university to stay back and join the faculty. He was hardly a week in the city when he decided to get his three daughters admitted to a school. He borrowed his brother’s car to go to the school with his wife and daughters.

When returning to his Model Colony residence, he slowed down at a speed-breaker. Three gunmen sprang out from nowhere in front of the car and forced it to halt. They first took hold of husband’s mobile phone, ordered the couple and children to get off, and then drove the car away.

Shocked beyond belief, the father stood ashen-faced. The girls were particularly terrified. The family had returned after about five years and is now wondering whether the decision was a sound one.

Despite the introduction of trackers, video cameras and other such devices, carjackings, bank robberies and hold-ups go on unabated. Actually, local criminals seem to have become bolder. The staggering amounts robbers skimmed from a bank in Karachi and a money changer’s in Lahore shows how bold our dacoits have grown.

Just a day before Eid a minibus packed to capacity was driven away to an isolated place in the Ibrahim Hyderi area and its passengers were stripped of their valuables.

Who do the hapless victims go to for protection? In most cases, the police whose job it is to curb such activities are themselves believed to be involved.

Poor pedestrians

PEDESTRIANS in Pakistan comprise one of the most neglected sections of society. No one bothers about their safety or right of movement. Take the new Schon underpass in Karachi’s Clifton. There is no provision for pedestrians on either side of the underpass; you have to walk up to the lights at Teen Talwar to be safely able to cross the road.

Cars zoom in and out of the underpass at some speed (that is, when one or the other lane is not blocked for repairs, which go on perpetually). You can see pedestrians perched precariously on the side beams, waiting for a pause in traffic to cross. At night, because of the poor street lighting, the danger to life and limb increases.

Either the walls outside the underpass should be raised so that the temptation to cross the road may not be there or some provision should be made for pedestrians. Like all other planning in the country, this one too is from the top and meant for the affluent with cars.

— Karachian

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