Social and Political Concerns in Pakistan and India: Critical Conversations for College Students
By Anjum Altaf
Lightstone Publishers
ISBN: 978-969-716-206-2
350pp.

A selection of 25 essays written for a blog (thesouthasianidea), Anjum Altaf’s book, Social and Political Concerns in Pakistan and India: Critical Conversations for College Students, adopts an unusual format. While each chapter (originally an essay) is a critique of a text by notable South Asians, from Amartya Sen to Pervez Hoodbhoy, each chapter is followed by a conversation with the blog’s readers.

The core audience, as the subtitle suggests, is the college-level student community. However, given the range of topics explored, the book has an appeal beyond students. Readership interested in Pakistan-India history and politics will find the tome provocatively interesting.

Since this anthology touches upon a myriad of topics, too numerous to cover in a single review, I will largely focus on two specific chapters, owing to the light and heat the topics of these chapters might generate. One on Partition; the other on Imran Khan.

Titled, ‘The Road to Partition’, Chapter Three is motivated by Jaswant Singh’s book. Altaf in this chapter, skilfully unpacks British colonial strategies to impose confessional identities on the Indians. The identity formation, in turn, laid the basis for the divide-and-rule strategy.

A selection of essays on diverse topics written for a blog incorporates engagements with the blog readers in an attempt to question the dictatorship of mainstream discourses

According to Altaf, the “introduction of the census (conducted in 1871) in which the determination of religion was of primary importance”, and the separate electorates introduced in 1909, were the two mechanisms to hammer out religionised identities, on the one hand, and institute the minority-majority divide, on the other.

While the census in Britain was a secular exercise, it was given a religious twist in India. Likewise, while electoral representation in Britain was territory-based, in India it was community-based. Notably, other identity-markers, such as language, ethnicity or territory could have been used to introduce separate electorates, if such a separation was necessary, argues Altaf.

However, Altaf argues, religion as the source of the separate electorates terminally wedged Hindu-Muslim unity. In this regard, Altaf quotes the Indian Statutory Commission (1930) as a self-confession by colonial rule.

Ironically, the Indian National Congress (INC) had no qualms about the separate electorates on a confessional basis. However, Gandhi went on a hunger strike when, in 1932, the draft Indian constitution proposed by colonial authorities, included separate electorates for Dalits. Gandhi’s hunger strike forced Dr Ambedkar to withdraw his support. “Later, on his own deathbed, he [Ambedkar] is reported to have said that it was the ‘biggest mistake in his life.’”

What catalysed Partition was the Muslim experience of 1937’s Congress ministries in various provinces. To substantiate his claim, Altaf quotes Sunil Khilnani: “Congress governments … lost the trust of Muslims and so helped kindle support for the Muslim League. It was this erosion of trust that fanned a desire to re-describe a ‘minority’ within British India as a separate ‘nation’ and to take it outside the boundaries of India.” This alienating experience finally led to Partition.

This chapter is full of insights mirroring Altaf’s breadth of scholarly knowledge on the topic. His conversations with the readers of his blog are indeed insightful. However, this chapter does not break from mainstream scholarship on Partition.

Academically fashionable scholarship on Partition is often guilty of three silences. Firstly, the spectrum of debate is restricted to an INC vs AIML (All India Muslim League) ‘duel’. The real villain, colonial rule, is often subtracted from the equation. Second, while caste is mentioned, class analysis simply goes missing. Third, no effort is made to theorise Partition. Partition is often delineated as an event frozen in 1947. The fact of the matter is, Partition was colonialism’s exit strategy, and it is an ongoing project, reproduced both in India and Pakistan through cultural and ideological state apparatuses.

Before moving on to Imran Khan, as a corollary to the debate on Partition, Chapter Four deserves a special mention, since it shows and conjectures about a uniquely interesting fact: in the 1946 elections, 51.7 percent of Muslim women (unlike 74.7 percent of Muslim men) voted for the AIML.

Titled, ‘The Confusions of Imran Khan’, Chapter Seven is a response to an op-ed written by Khan. In his opinion piece, Khan posits now-familiar claims:

“First, our family is superior to that in the West. Second, science cannot tell us what is the purpose of our existence and what happens to us when we die. Third, the absence of religion leads to a materialistic and hedonistic culture, in which only money matters… immorality has progressively grown there since the 1970s and, in the UK, the divorce rate is 60 percent, with over 35 percent single mothers; the crime rate is rising in almost all Western societies, with an alarming increase in racism; between 1991 and 1997, there were racially motivated attacks all over Europe while, in Pakistan, despite the influx of over four million Afghan refugees, there was no racial tension.”

However, Khan ends his article by stating that some Western societies have far more Islamic traits and some of the best human beings, he knows, live there. Altaf, on reading Khan’s conclusion, asks: “So what was the whole point of the article?”

Identifying Khan’s over-generalisations, Altaf points out that it is not merely true that several countries in the West are staunchly Catholic, China in the East lacks any traditional religion and “yet China is doing quite well in the absence of religion… and [beset by] few of the problems that Imran attributes to the absence of religion.”

In his conversation with the readers, Altaf asks an Imran Khan fan: “Have you looked at the ranking of corruption by Transparency International? Is Pakistan ranked above or below most Western countries?”

Apropos of Khan fans, readers’ comments in this chapter, deserve a special mention. One claims that Imran Khan is the real liberal, while Pakistani liberals are only fakes. Another praises Khan for condemning Punjab Governor Salman Taseer’s murder, without noticing the irony that Khan defends blasphemy laws.

Most importantly, Khan followers keep shifting the goalposts, hence rendering argumentation impossible. Ironically, one (Asif), highlighting ‘rotten Western family values’ states: “in the West, a wife can leave her husband if she likes another person.” Wonder if Asif approved of Bushra Bibi’s decision to dump her former husband, Mr Maneka, for Imran Khan.

Unfortunately, Altaf’s interaction with Khan loyalists belies his claim in his introductory remarks. In his Introduction, Altaf justifiably advocates active learning and claims, “this book simulates an intense engagement by incorporating the conversation around each topic.” This well-intentioned claim requires two provocative qualifications. Firstly, one can’t hold dialogue with fanatics. Secondly, online platforms aesthetically are not really appropriate platforms for an informed and scholarly dialogue.

All in all, Altaf’s tome deserves praise for courageously, convincingly and argumentatively questioning the dictatorship of mainstream discourses. Fanaticism has reduced the Indian Subcontinent to an Absurdistan. Altaf’s book shows that a patient argumentation in the tradition of Enlightenment is the only way to reverse the course.

The reviewer teaches at Beaconhouse National University. He is the author of Media Imperialism in India and Pakistan

Published in Dawn, Books & Authors, June 30th, 2024