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Attitudes of
Indian scientists towards science
are conservative. Progress through science is an immensely popular
notion in
India, stressed both by past and present leaders. But what is science
understood to be? I was a little jolted upon reading Nehru's words,
written in
stone at the entrance to the Jawaharlal Nehru Institute for Advanced
Research
in Bangalore: "I too have worshipped at the shrine of science". The
notion of "worship" and "shrine of science" do not go well
with the modern science and the scientific temper. Science is about
challenging, not worshipping. As a secular man, Nehru was not given to
worship
but his metaphorical allusions to industries and factories as temples
of
science found full resonance. Indeed, science in India is largely seen
as an
instrument that enhances productive capabilities, and not as a
transformational
tool for producing an informed, just, and rational society. Most Indian
scientists are techno-nationalists - they put their science at the
service of
their state rather than the people. In this respect, Pakistan is no
different.
India's
nuclear and space programs are
nationally venerated as symbols of high achievement. This led to
India's
nuclear hero, Dr. Abdul Kalam, becoming the country's president. When
Dr. Kalam
received me in his office, after the usual pleasantries, I expressed my
regret
at India having gone nuclear and causing Pakistan to follow suit.
Shouldn't
India now reduce dangers by initiating a process of nuclear
disarmament? Dr. Kalam
gave me a well-practiced response: India would get rid of its nuclear
weapons
the very minute that America agreed to do the same. He displayed little
enthusiasm for an agreement to cut off fissile material production.
However, he
did agree to my suggestion that exchange of academics could be an
important way
to build good relations between Pakistan and India.
Indian
society remains deeply superstitious,
caste divisions are important, and women still have a long way to go.
While I
found myself admiring the energetic popular science movements, I was
disappointed that they pay relatively little attention to the
anti-scientific
superstitions widely prevalent in Indian society. After I had given a
strong
pitch for fighting irrational beliefs at a meeting of science
popularization
activists from villages in Northern India, a young woman asked me what
to do if
"koi devi aap pay utr jayai" (if a spirit should descend upon you). The
jyoti (astrologer) dictates the dates when a marriage is possible, and
even
whether a couple can marry at all. When I was in Bangalore, hundreds of
thousands had thronged to be cured by an American faith-healing quack,
Benny
Hinn. Inter-caste marriages are still
frowned upon, and usually forbidden. In local newspapers one typically
reads of
tragic accounts such as that of a boy and girl from different castes
who
jointly commit suicide after their families forbid the match. Although
Indian
women are freer, more visible, and more confident than their Pakistani
counterparts, India is still a strongly male dominated society.
However, the
rapidly increasing number of bold and well-educated young women gives
hope for
the future.
Muslims in
India remain at the margins of
scientific research and higher education. Hamdard University in Delhi
is
distinctly better than the university bearing the same name on the
Pakistani
side. Jamia Millia, a largely Muslim university, appears to be doing
well and
probably better than any Pakistani university in the field of physics.
But,
although Muslims form 12% of India's population, I met only a few
Muslim
scientists in leading Indian research institutes and universities.
Discrimination against Muslims does not appear to be the dominant cause. A professor at Jamia told me that an
overwhelming number of Muslim students were inclined towards seeking
easier
(and more lucrative) professions in spite of special incentives offered
to them
at his university. In general, Muslims in India appear more modern and
secular
than in Pakistan. However, Hyderabad astonished me. Is it a total
exception? In
the lecture that I gave at a government women's college, there was only
one
young woman without a burqa in an audience of about a hundred. These
women were
surprised to learn that Pakistan - at least in most places - is more
liberal
than Hyderabad. The extreme conservatism in the Muslim part of the city
reminds
one of Peshawar.
There was a
remarkable lack of hostility towards
Pakistan. Indeed a desire for friendly relations was repeatedly
expressed in
every forum I went to. This is not to be taken lightly: many of my
public
lectures were either about (or on) science, but others dealt with
deeply
contentious issues - nuclear weapons, India-Pakistan relations, and the
Kashmir
conflict. Various Indian peace groups and NGOs organized public
discussions and
screenings of the two documentaries that I had made (with my friend Zia
Mian):
"Pakistan and India under the Nuclear Shadow", and "Crossing the
Lines - Kashmir, Pakistan, India". To be
sure, my views on Indian policies and actions in
Kashmir
occasionally provoked knee-jerk nationalistic responses and accusations
of
pushing "a Pakistani line". But these were infrequent and even heated
exchanges always remained within the bounds of civility.
Ignorance
about Pakistan is widespread. In most
public gatherings, and certainly in every school that I spoke at,
people had
never seen a Pakistani. A puzzled 12-year old girl asked me: "Sir, are
you
really a Pakistani?". Many Indians have a misconception of Pakistan as
a
medieval, theocratic state. In fact, only a few parts of Pakistan are
really
so. I also encountered the belief that Pakistanis have been totally
muzzled and
live in a police state. This is untrue - articles in the Pakistani
press are
often blunter and more critical than in the Indian press. An Indian
friend
hypothesized that knowledge of the other country is inversely
proportional to
the geographical distance between our countries. Unfortunately
this will remain true unless there is a substantial
exchange of visitors.
Indians are
deeply nationalistic and may dislike
particular governments but they only rarely criticize the Indian state.
This is
not difficult to understand: the democratic process has given a strong
sense of
participation to most citizens and has successfully forged a national
identity
(except in Kashmir, and parts of the North East) that transcends the
immense
diversity of Indian cultures. But this has an important downside:
nationalism
is easy to mobilize and highly dangerous in matters of war and
conflict. I
found the Indian elite (especially the former heads of nuclear, space,
and
technology programs) condescending and irritatingly smug. Even if India
has
done well in many respects, in most others it is still behind the rest
of the
world. Fortunately, Pakistani intellectuals are less attached to their
nation
state and therefore more forthright. The reason is rather clear: three
decades
of military rule have dealt a serious blow to nation building and
firming up
the Pakistani identity.
Similarities
between the two countries exceed
the differences. Cities in both countries are poisoned with thick car
fumes and
grid-locks are frequent; megaslums and exploding populations threaten
to
swallow up the countryside; electricity supplies are intermittent; and
water is
fast disappearing from rivers and aquifers. The rural poor are fleeing
to the
cities, and wretched beggars with amputated limbs are casually accepted
as part
of the urban scenery. There is little long-term planning, and none at
all for
coping with the inevitable changes that global warming will soon bring.
India is
upbeat about its future and the feeling
of optimism is palpable down to the lower middle class. The steady
improvement
in educational quality and outreach, the growth of social movements
that keep
excesses of power and authority in check, and a sense of participation
among
people are among India's most significant gains. But its problems are
no less
than its accomplishments. Will India's poor be able to find a voice,
get help
in fighting superstitions and notions of caste, and be spared the
marginalization that accompanies globalization? Will India's leadership
have
the wisdom to arrive at some reasonable accommodation on Kashmir, cease
obsessive militarization, and divert resources to pressing social
needs? These
larger issues, and not just advances in science and technology, will
decide
just how high India can rise.
(Dr. Pervez
Hoodbhoy is professor of physics at
Quaid-e-Azam University, Islamabad.)
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