[sacw] SACW #1 (14 Nov. 01)

[Harsh Kapoor]

South Asia Citizens Wire | Dispatch #1.
14 November 2001
http://www.mnet.fr/aiindex

------------------------------------------

#1. In Pakistan, It's Jihad 101 ( Thomas L. Friedman)
#2. Violence and Translation (Veena Das)
#3. Depleted Uranium Toxicity in Afghanistan (Richard S. Ehrlich)
#4. A Response to Sri Lankan President Kumaratunge's CNN Interview (UTHR)
#5. Why was Bengal ignored? (The Walrus)

________________________

#1.

The New York Times
November 13, 2001

In Pakistan, It's Jihad 101
By THOMAS L. FRIEDMAN

PESHAWAR, Pakistan -- You need only spend an afternoon walking through the
Storytellers' Bazaar here in Peshawar, a few miles from the Afghan border,
to understand that America needs to do its business in Afghanistan --
eliminate Osama bin Laden and his Taliban protectors -- as quickly as
possible and get out of here. This is not a neighborhood where we should
linger. This is not Mr. Rogers's neighborhood.

What makes me say that? I don't know, maybe it was the street vendor who
asked me exactly what color Osama bin Laden T-shirt I wanted -- the yellow
one with his picture on it or the white one simply extolling him as the
hero of the Muslim nation and vowing "Jihad Is Our Mission." (He was doing
a brisk business among the locals.) Or maybe it was the wall poster
announcing: Call this phone number if you want to join the "Jihad against
America." Or maybe it was all the Urdu wall graffiti reading "Honor Is in
Jihad" and "The Alliance Between the Hunood [Indians] and Yahood [Jews] Is
Unacceptable." Or maybe it was the cold stares and steely eyes that
greeted the obvious foreigner. Those eyes did not say "American Express
accepted here." They said "Get lost."

Welcome to Peshawar. Oh, and did I mention? This is Pakistan -- these guys
are on our side. Fat chance. This whole region of northwest Pakistan is
really just an extension of Afghanistan, dominated by the same ethnic
Pashtuns that make up the Taliban. This is bin Laden land. This is not a
region where America is going to sink any friendly roots. In part it's
because the Pashtuns here all, understandably, side with their brothers in
Afghanistan; in part it's because they were jilted once before by the
Americans -- after the U.S. just dropped Pakistan like a used hanky once
the Soviets left Afghanistan. But most important, it's because of the
education system here.

On the way into Peshawar I stopped to visit the Darul Uloom Haqqania, the
biggest madrasa, or Islamic school, in Pakistan, with 2,800 live-in
students -- all studying the Koran and teachings of the Prophet Muhammad
with the hope of becoming mullahs, or spiritual leaders. I was allowed to
sit in on a class with young boys, who sat on the floor, practicing their
rote learning of the Koran from holy texts perched on wooden holders. This
was the core of their studies. Most will never be exposed to critical
thinking or modern subjects.

It was at once impressive and disquieting. It was impressive because the
madrasas provide room, board, education and clothing for thousands of
Pakistani boys =97 who would otherwise be left out on the streets because o=
f
the gradual collapse of Pakistan's secular, state education system. In
1978 there were 3,000 madrasas in Pakistan; today there are 39,000. It was
disquieting because their almost entirely religious curriculum was
designed by the Mogul emperor Aurangzeb Alamgir, who died in 1707. There
was one shelf of science books in the library =97 largely from the 1920's.

The air in the Koran class was so thick and stale you could have cut it
into blocks and sold it like ice. A sign on the wall said this room was "A
gift of the Kingdom of Saudi Arabia." The teacher asked an 8-year-old boy
to chant a Koranic verse for us, which he did with the beauty and elegance
of an experienced muezzin. What did it mean? It was a famous verse: "The
faithful shall enter paradise and the unbelievers shall be condemned to
eternal hellfire."

I asked one of the students, an Afghan refugee, Rahim Kunduz, age 12, what
his reaction was to the Sept. 11 attacks, and he said: "Most likely the
attack came from Americans inside America. I am pleased that America has
had to face pain, because the rest of the world has tasted its pain." And
his view of Americans generally? "They are unbelievers and do not like to
befriend Muslims and they want to dominate the world with their power."

The Darul Uloom Haqqania madrasa is famous because the Taliban leader,
Mullah Muhammad Omar, once attended it, as did many other top Taliban
figures. Mullah Omar never graduated, our guide explained, "but we gave
him an honorary degree anyway, because he left to do jihad and to create a
pristine Islamic government."

As we were leaving, my Pakistani friend asked the school's rector a
question he had posed to me, which I couldn't answer: How come Americans
are so good at selling Coke and McDonald's to people all over the world,
but can't sell their policies?

"Because their policies are poisonous and their Coke is sweet," said
Moulana Samiul Haq.

I am all for reviewing our policies, but only the Pakistanis can rebuild
their schools so they meld modernity, Islam and pluralism. Bin Laden is a
sideshow, but one we must deal with. The real war for peace in this
region, though, is in the schools. Which is why we must do our military
operation against bin Laden quickly and then get out of here. When we
return, and we must, we have to be armed with modern books and schools =97
not tanks. Only then might we develop a new soil =97 a new generation as
hospitable to our policies as to our burgers.

Until then, nothing pro-American will grow here.

______

#2.

Violence and Translation
Veena Das
My writing on the events of September 11th is on two registers=96 the publi=
c
event of spectacular destruction in New York and the private events made up
of countless stories of grief, fear, and anticipationi. I hope I can speak
responsibly to both, neither trivializing the suffering of the victims of t=
he
September11th attack and those in mourning for them, as in the rhetoric of
=93deserved suffering=94 (as if nations and individuals were painlessly
substitutable) =96 nor obscuring the unspeakable suffering of wars and
genocides in other parts of the world that framed these events. A recasting
of these events into conflicting genealogies by the politics of mourning in
the public sphere raises the issue of translation between different
formulations through which these events were interpreted and indeed,
experienced.
There are two opposed perspectives on cultural difference that we can disce=
rn
today- one that emphasizes the antagonism of human cultures as in some
version of the thesis on =93clash of civilizations=94 and the second that
underlines the production of identities through circulation and hence the
blurring of boundaries. Both, however, are based on the assumption that hum=
an
cultures are translatable. Indeed, without some power of self-translatabili=
ty
that makes it possible for one to imagine oneself using the categories of t=
he
other, human cultures would not be able to live on any register of the
imaginary. The stark denial of this translatability on both sides of the
present conflict concerns me most though I note that this is not to espouse=
a
vision of justice that is somehow even- handed in distributing blame. My
concern is of a different kind - I fear that classical concepts in
anthropological and sociological theory provide scaffolding to this picture
of untranslatability despite our commitment to the understanding of
diversity. There are obviously specific issues at stake in this particular
event of destruction, its time and its space, and the response casting it a=
s
a matter of war rather than, say, one concerning crime. But it seems to me
that there is a deeper grammar that is at work here that invites us to
investigate the conditions of possibility for this kind of declaration of w=
ar
=96 as a genre of speech - to take place.=20
One of the tenets of postmodern theorization is that the concrete and finit=
e
expressions of multiplicity cannot be referred back to a transcendental
center =96the grounds for judgment cannot be located in either the faculty =
of
reason or in common corporeal experience. Although postmodern theory does
not suggest that diversity must be valued for itself =96 indeed, it is part=
of
its struggle to provide for conversation and recognition of otherness witho=
ut
any predetermined criteria for the evaluation of divergent claims - it does
raise important questions about the withdrawal of recognition to the other.=
=20
I have suggested elsewhere that difference when it is cast as non-criterial=
,
becomes untranslatable precisely because it ceases to allow for a mutual
future in language.ii The shadowing of this into skepticism in which trust
in categories is completely destroyed and our access to context is removed
transforms forms of life into forms of death. Some such issue is at stake
here in the Taliban=92s brutality against women on behalf of a pure Islam o=
n
the one hand, and a war waged on behalf of =93Western civilization=94 on th=
e
other. After all it is the United States that spawned the very forces it is
fighting as a defence against communism =96 the then enemy of freedom and
values of Western democracyiii. There are no innocents in the present war =
at
the level of collectivities despite the powerful deployment of the figure o=
f
the =93innocent=94 killed on both sides of the divide.
Elsewhere I have questioned the purity of the concepts that are put in pl=
ay
when claims are made on behalf of tradition, religious autonomy, modernity,
or human rights. The translation of these concepts is not a matter of
something external to culture but something internal to it. It is when a
particular vision both refuses pluralism as internal to its culture and
claims finality for itself in some avatar of an end of history that a
struggle for cultural rights and the necessity to protect =93our way of lif=
e=94
turns into violence and oppression.
Allow me to take the pronouncements on events of September 11th, that the
attack on the World Trade Center in New York was an attack on civilization =
or
on values of freedom. I take these as statements in ordinary language
propelled into a global public sphere from which there is no flight - for
they function, it seems to me, as anthropological language. What these
statements conjure is the idea of the United States (herewith America, not
illegitimately I think) as embodying these values - not contingently, not a=
s
a horizon in relation to struggles within its borders against, say, slavery=
,
racism, or the destruction of native American populations, but as if a
teleology has particularly privileged it to embody these values. This is wh=
y
the issues cannot be framed by the bearer of these utterances in terms of
American interests but as of values that America embodies (not merely
expresses) in its nation state. So the point of view of totality exists in
these utterances not in the divine whose reason is not accessible to us, bu=
t
in the body of the American nation in which the gap between the particular
and the universal, the contingent and the necessary is indeed sought to be
cancellediv. Now it may surprise one that in the country that has given so
much political and public space to multiculturalism, and when much effort h=
as
gone into signaling that this conflict is not a modern replay of the crusad=
es
(despite slips of tongue)=96 political language slides into the idea of Ame=
rica
as the privileged site of universal values. It is from this perspective tha=
t
one can speculate why the talk is not of the many terrorisms with which
several countries have lived now for more than thirty years, but with one
grand terrorism =96 Islamic terrorism. In the same vein the world is said t=
o
have changed after September 11th. What could this mean except that while
terrorist forms of warfare in other spaces in Africa, Asia, or Middle East
were against forms of particularism, the attack on America is seen as an
attack on humanity itself.
The point about many terrorisms versus a single grand terrorism that
threatens American values that are seen to embody the force of history =96
teleology and eschatology =96 is indeed significant. As is well known, the =
last
three decades have seen a transformation in the idea of war. While there is=
a
monopoly over high technology of destruction, the low technologies have
proliferated freely, encouraged and abetted by geopolitical interests. The
social actors engaged in this warfare in Africa, or in parts of the Middle
East or Asia are neither modern states, nor traditional polities but new
kinds of actors (sometimes called warlords) created by the configuration of
global and local forces.vFurther it is the very length of these wars =96 so=
me
lasting for more than thirty years that allows for the constantly changing
formations =96 slippage between the categories of warlords, terrorists,
insurgents, and freedom fighters reflects the uncertainty around these soci=
al
actors. It is thus the reconfiguration of terrorism as a grand single glob=
al
force =96 Islamic terrorism =96 that simultaneously cancels out other forms=
of
terrorism and creates the enemy as a totality that has to be vanquished in
the interests of a universalism that is embodied in the American nation.
There is a mirroring of this discourse in the Taliban who also reconfigure
themselves as historically destined to embody (not only represent) Islamic
destiny. Ironically the clash of civilization thesis is repeated in the
pronouncements of the Taliban leadership.
The tremendous loss of life and the style of killing in the present wars =
=96
call them terrorism (including state terrorism), call them insurgency, call
them wars of liberation, all raise the issue of theodicy. Yet, while in man=
y
other countries the wounds inflicted through such violence are acknowledged
as attesting to the vulnerability of human life =96 in the case of American
society there is an inability to acknowledge this vulnerability. Or rather
the vulnerability to which we, as embodied beings are subject, the
powerlessness, is recast in terms of strength. And thereby the
representations of the American nation manage to obscure from view, the
experiences of those within its body politics who were never safe even befo=
re
September 11th. While many have heard arrogance in these statements - to =
my
ears they are signs of the inability to address pain. Consider the followin=
g
passage in Nietzsche on the moment of the production of ressentiment
=85to deaden, by means of a more violent emotion of any kind, a tormenting
secret pain that is becoming unendurable, and to drive it out of
consciousness at least for the moment: for that one requires an affect, as
savage an affect as possible, and, in order to excite that any pretext at
allvi.=20
I am obviously not suggesting any conspiracy theory, or that a pretext was
needed for subsequent bombing of Afghanistan but pointing to the deep need =
to
show the tattered body of the =93enemy=94 as a rational response to the Sep=
tember
11th attacks. In the first instance, it seemed to me that this was the site
of punishment as spectacle. Michel Foucault claimed that =93=85justice no l=
onger
takes public responsibility for that violence that is bound up with its
practice=94vii, but here we find an emphasis on visible intensity through w=
hich
justice is to be theatrically displayed pointing to the ways in which
Foucault might have overstated the case for disciplinary power as the
dominant mode for production of normality under the regime of modernity. On
further reflection though, it appears to me that theatrical display of
sovereign power is only part of the story. It is the further need to repla=
ce
the pain of the nagging questions posed to American citizens about what
relation their pain bears to the pain of the others - what kind of
responsibility is theirs when successive regimes elected by them have
supported military regimes, brutal dictatorships and warlords mired in
corruption with no space for the exercise of critical monitoring of politic=
s
in the Middle East? If violence has replaced politics in the present
globalized spaces in this regions, then surely it is only by acknowledging
that pain as =93ours=94 that a global civil society could respond. Instead =
of
replacing the pain with another more violent and savage affect, it would ha=
ve
to engage in a different way with the pain inflicted on it.
What are the obstacles in acknowledging this pain? Collective=20
identities are
not only a product of desires for recognition =96 they are equally forged b=
y
our relation to death. Yet it is in the classical theories of society that =
we
learn that the "other" is not part of human society because she has a total=
ly
different relation to death. Consider the contrast between altruistic suici=
de
and egoistic suicide in Emile Durkheim=92s classic analysis =96 I suggest t=
hat
this is the site at which a radical untraslatability of other cultures seep=
s
into sociological analysis. It is no accident that it is in defining the
subject=92s relation to death that Durkheim finds himself positing the kind=
of
subjectivity to the other that domesticates the threat of their forms of
dying to the self-understanding of the modern subject. Consider the followi=
ng
passage in which he spells out the distinction between altruistic suicide a=
nd
egoistic suicide.
The weight of society is thus brought to bear upon him to lead him to destr=
oy
himself. To be sure society intervenes in egotistic suicide as well, but it=
s
intervention differs in the two cases. In one case it speaks the sentence o=
f
death; in the other it forbids the choice of death. In the case of egotisti=
c
suicide it suggests or counsels at most; in the other case it compels and i=
t
is the author of conditions and circumstances making this obligation coerci=
ve
(emphasis supplied).viii
India was the classic soil for this kind of suicide for Durkheim. But he
makes a broader contrast between the "crude morality" and the "refined
ethics" of societies with altruistic and egoistic suicide - the former sets
no value on human life while the latter sets human personality on so high a
pedestal that it can no longer be subordinated to anything. As he says,
"Where altruistic suicide is prevalent, man is always ready to give his lif=
e;
however, at the same time, he sets no more value on that of another." In
contrast, "A broader sympathy for human suffering succeeds the fanatical
devotions of primitive times."ix
Now I am not going to argue that the making of the subject=20
whose mode of
dying is to kill him or herself in the service of killing others for a
greater cause is transparent. I will suggest though that the way language i=
s
deployed to render some forms of dying as fanatical (e.g. by terrorists) an=
d
others as representing the supreme value of sacrificing oneself (e.g. as in
values of patriotism) blocks any road to understanding when and under what
circumstances individual life ceases to hold value. It is not that in one
case society compels where as in the other case it counsels, but that by
recasting desperate acts as those which close all conversations, there is a=
n
invitation to violence that raises the stakes - it leaves no other way of
giving recognition except in the negativities through which more violence i=
s
created. It is not accidental that even a language of war is not sustained =
in
the political pronouncements of American leaders for war has become
transformed into a hunt thereby using the rhetoric strategy of animalizing
the other. Hence there is the preponderance of such verbs as "smoking them
out" or "getting them out of their holes".
Instead of Manichean battles between good and evil, there would be greater
room for a tolerable peace if it was possible to attend to the violences of
everyday life, to acknowledge the fallibility and the vulnerability to whic=
h
we are all subject, and to acknowledge that the conflict is over interests,
and further that these need to be renegotiated. It is not over uncompromisi=
ng
values. Most people in the world learn to live as vulnerable beings to the
dangers that human cultures pose to each other. Between that vulnerabilityx
and the desperation that seeks to annihilate the other, there is a terrible
gap. In other words it is to the picture of transfiguration of violence
rather than to its elimination or eradication in a war- like mode, that I
draw attention. Different, even new ways of being Muslim are tied up to the
creation of democratic spaces just as modern democracies would be deepened =
by
the full participation of those who have been excluded from the public
spheres in the West. Might we be able to mourn with the survivors of
September 11th without the necessity of appropriating their grief for other
grander projects? Whether conditions for this possibility exist when the
languages of division are so virulent in the public sphere=96 I am pessimis=
t,
but I pray that I am wrong.

______

#3.
- Depleted Uranium Toxicity in Afghanistan
by Richard S. Ehrlich ISLAMABAD, Pakistan =97

American warplanes are attacking Afghanistan with
depleted uranium weapons which could poison combatants
and civilians, especially children, according to U.S.
officials. The possibility of radioactive dust storms
sweeping across Afghanistan and polluting rivers has
meanwhile sparked fears in Pakistan. "The radioactive
dust released by the impact of these weapons can
easily get into the food chain and the water supply
through the Kabul River in Afghanistan and thus into
Pakistan's Indus [River]," reported Dawn newspaper.
"There are simply no contingency measures to brace
people against such a disastrous humanitarian
fallout," Dawn added.
The narrow Kabul River cuts through the center of the
heavily bombed, mile-high Afghan capital and provides
drinking water for the people who dwell there. After
meandering east along the highway past Jalalabad and
other U.S. bomb targets, the Kabul River crosses into
Pakistan and feeds the Indus River, the country's
biggest waterway. The Indus provides much of the
liquid nourishment to Pakistan's farms and people
along its route south to the Arabian Sea.
In arid regions, most DU remains on the surface as
dust. It is dispersed in [non-arid] soil more easily,
particularly in the areas of higher rainfall."

Dr. Repacholi stressed, "Children rather than adults
may be considered to be more at risk of DU exposure
when returning to normal activities within a war zone
through contaminated food and water, since typical
hand-to-mouth activity of inquisitive play could lead
to high DU ingestion from contaminated soil."
Depleted uranium is "used in several types of
munitions, but primarily in two types: it's used in
120-millimeter tank rounds and it's used in
30-millimeter rounds fired by the A-10," Defense
Department spokesperson Kenneth H. Bacon told a
newsconference in January.

http://www.zolatimes.com/V5.44/afghan_uranium.html

______

#4.

A Response to Sri Lankan President Kumaratunge's CNN Interview
(10/31/2001)

[A statement issued by University Teachers for Human Rights (Jaffna),
Sri Lanka on 12/11/2001]

In her recent interview with CNN President Kumaratunge asserted
that "UTHR was very appreciative of the fact" that with a
few "exceptions" her government was able to "completely control the
human rights violations" in Sri Lanka (see CNN transcripts). This is
a gross misrepresentation of both, UTHR(J) and of the human rights
situation in Sri Lanka. When the PA government came into power, it
ushered in a new openness and tolerance of criticism; a distinct
break from the viciously repressive UNP era. However, the democratic
promise that was signalled in the PA's 1994 election has been
steadily eroded in the intervening years.

The resumption of the war brought again to the forefront about human
rights violations against the population at large, and to the Tamils
in particular. In this context, we had to confront the LTTE's role in
sacrificing the community for its military agenda, and likewise role
of the PA and UNP in sacrificing the community to further their
narrow party political agendas. The people in the North-East have
become increasingly paralysed as they have been dragged into war. We
have reported on the LTTE's responsibilities for gross human rights
violations in this period. At the same time, we have also reported on
how the Kumaratunge government has also become increasingly draconian
in its policies and practices. We have held the government
responsible for the fact that they failed to bring the culprits to
justice in many of the cases where human rights violations were
alleged. In addition, many commissions and inquires were initiated in
bad faith rather than as a genuine effort to come to terms with the
past and bring justice to victims. There was very little follow-up
effort, and very few reforms that prevented the recurrence of such
violations. In essence, the PA could not break the logic of the
state's authoritarian character. The government's desperate bid to
hold onto power at all costs has often resulted in short term
political manipulation of the state structures, including, for
example, election malpractices, at the expense of deeper democratic
and human rights values.

>From its inception, UTHR(J) has chosen to address the human rights
violations, of all actors in the Sri Lankan conflict, including those
of the LTTE and also of the PA government [1] . In fact, our critique
of the Sri Lankan government's abuses endorses the reporting of Human
Rights Watch. Human Rights Watch is a well-respected and neutral
international human rights organization that has done very important
work in highlighting human rights violations by states throughout the
world. In addition by presenting UTHR(J) with a Hellman/Hammett
award, HRW has acknowledged and recognized the challenges faced by
UTHR(J) in addressing human rights in Sri Lanka. Ironically, the
political situation at the local and global levels, shows that those
in power deploy strikingly similar strategies to avoid addressing the
substance of a human rights critique. Kumaratunge's dismissal of
Human Rights Watch as potentially a "Tiger" front organization echoes
the LTTE's dismissal of UTHR(J) as government apologists. This stance
is not unique to the Sri Lankan context.

In Sri Lanka, as elsewhere, human rights activists have had to fight
an uphill struggle to challenge all forms of oppressive ideologies
and their effects on ordinary people. Often, at grave personal danger
from the LTTE and/or the government, human rights organizations have
drawn attention to human rights violations by the State and armed
groups. In fact, even among human rights organizations, only a few
have gone beyond documenting the state's violations to also document
violations by armed groups in the North and East. This work has been
crucially important in a context where the LTTE has brutally
eliminated all oppositional voices in hijacking the legitimate
grievances of the Tamil people. Their power has derived from their
willingness to go to any lengths, whatever the cost to human life and
dignity, to maintain a brutal hegemony over all forms of political
expression and organizing.

Born of this climate of terror, most Tamil media outlets, from Tamil
Net to local print media, have furthered an unquestioning pro-LTTE
editorial line; as members of the Tamil community, this situation
presented us with a particular obligation to contest this
authoritarian ethos.=20

Increasingly, we find our work being distorted or selectively
appropriated by the State to condemn the LTTE and by chauvinistic
forces in the South to oppose any political solution to the ethnic
problem. For President Kumaratunga to exploit our work to whitewash
her government's human rights record is a cynical appropriation of
our voice.

-------------------------------------------------------

[1] UTHR(J)'s work has been driven by the conviction that violations
have to be protested, irrespective of whether the perpetrators are
state forces or non-state actors, Sinhalese or Tamil. Even in an
armed conflict situation it is important to preserve a political
space that allows reflection and dialogue on the objective reality
and changing circumstances. The belief that such a political space
is essential for armed groups to be accountable to its people, and
for the deterrence of human rights violations, continues to be a
central animating pressure in our reporting. We give below with
references some idea of our coverage of violations by the State under
the Kumaratunge government:

Rape and torture: Special Reports 7, 9, 12, and Bulletin 25

Massacres & Killings: Bulletins 10, 15, 16, 22

Harassment of civilians and freedom of movement: Bulletins 6, 7, 8,
9, 17, 18, 20, 21, 24

Disappearances: Special Reports 7, 12, and Bulletins: 11, 13, 14

State and its character: Special Report 8

<http://www.uthr.org/Statements/cnn%20statement.htm>http://www.uthr.org/Sta=
tements/cnn%20statement.htm

______

#5.

The Frontier Post
Why was Bengal ignored?
The Walrus
Updated on 11/12/2001 9:59:37 AM

Some years ago, I wrote can article that we owe a national apology to=20
the people of Bangladesh for our sins of omission and commission=20
towards them from August 1947 to December 1971, sins that alienated=20
them from us, their brothers, and obliged them to seek an independent=20
existence.

The column was devoted to our political bureaucratic and social=20
attitude towards them with its misconceived exhibition of superiority=20
on our part when we were together, and advocated a public act of=20
begging in Dhaka's Paltan maidan.

Since then the idea has been widely debated at many levels in=20
Pakistan, the example of Japan seeking forgiveness from China being=20
cited, as also that of some other powerful nations which felt they=20
had exceeded the bounds of morality and decent behaviour towards=20
subjugated lands.

Even Queen Elizabeth, though not exactly asking to be pardoned,=20
visited Jallianwala Bagh in Amritsar, and the visit was taken as an=20
act of contrition.

Most commentators felt that, with a shared past, an apology from=20
Pakistan would only be an act of grace and goodwill towards our=20
Bengali brothers.

There is no point in repeating all the reasons that I gave in my=20
column to justify my proposal.

They are all well known to everybody.

With the passage of time the miasma created by our tendency to look=20
at Bengalis with coloured glasses has dissipated, though the=20
publication of the Hamoodur Rahman Commission Report has somewhat=20
revived it.

In fact, the report has made the submissions that follow topical in a=20
way, and I can, in good conscience, venture to dilate on my reading=20
of the overall attitude of the Muslims of Northern India towards=20
Bengali Muslims, which is my topic today.

Despite the fact that the Muslim League was born in Dhaka, they=20
behaved, in the context of a separate homeland, as if the poor=20
brethren in the East did not exist.

These are harsh words, but as I give you the grounds for this belief=20
you may not find it difficult to agree with me.

For instance I have always wondered why Allama Iqbal did not include=20
the Muslim majority province of Bengal in his concept of a homeland=20
for Indian Muslims and confined himself to roughly to what is now=20
Pakistan.

Was he being prophetic that this is all the Pakistan we shall=20
ultimately get? No, there must have been some other reason.

I have asked many people, among them writers, historians and fiery=20
advocates of the two-nation theory, but nobody has been able to give=20
me a satisfactory answer or explanation.

Maybe some reader can.

That is not all.

I have been reading a well-researched article in an Urdu daily on the=20
history of various proposals emanating from time to time from various=20
Muslim leaders and thinkers of India and the desirability of a=20
separate country for Muslims within the subcontinent.

I shall ignore those that merely said that Hindus and Muslims were=20
two distinct nations and, for a number of reasons, could not live=20
together and expatiated on the political, cultural and economic need=20
for Pakistan.

I shall only talk of those that named the areas that they thought=20
should form a separate Muslim country.

In as early as 1879, Syed Jamaluddin Afghani, the great Islamic=20
thinker, suggested a Muslim democratic republic comprising Central=20
Asia, Afghanistan, and the Muslim majority region of northwestern=20
India.

There was no mention of Bengal.

Akbar Allahabadi, otherwise a writer and homorous poet, proposed in=20
1905 that the areas north of the Jamuna River should be given over to=20
the Muslims.

Maybe he didn't know that there were as many Muslims in Bengal as in=20
the region outlined by him.

Vilayat Ali Bambooq predicted in 1913 that Hindus and Muslims would=20
go their separate ways, that Northern India would belong to the=20
Muslims and the rest of India, presumably including Muslim Bengal, to=20
the Hindus.

Similarly, Chaudhry Rehmat Ali, who coined the name Pakistan, stated=20
in 1915 that Northern India should be converted into a Muslim country.

This was many years before his proposal of parceling out vast areas=20
of India for some half a dozen independent Muslim states, leaving=20
about one-third of the subcontinent for the Hindus! Murtaz Ahmed Khan=20
Maikash, editor and journalist, suggested in 1928 that a new Muslim=20
country should come into being, consisting of the Punjab, Sindh,=20
Balochistan and the Frontier province.

Nobody asked him how he had forgotten Bengal.

The article I am talking about listed 21 personalities who had all=20
advocated the division of India on communal lines, viz.

Muslim-majority areas and Hindu-majority areas, but, as stated above,=20
I have picked up only those in which the Muslim provinces of=20
north-western India were specifically indicated as a possible=20
homeland for India's Muslims to be governed by them independently.

Allama Iqbal's plan was one of them.

While none of them has given a thought to Bengal let me add that the=20
words Bengal and/or Bengalis have also not occurred in any of the=20
other schemes put forward in more than fifty years.

This is most significant.

One can only infer from this that all these thinkers did not give=20
much importance to the Bengali Muslims.

I refuse to believe that they were so deficient in geography and=20
demography that the though of the existence of the crores of Muslims=20
in Bengal never entered their mind.

Then what was the reason or justification, or even an explanation,=20
for this neglect and lack of consideration? Could it be that none of=20
those who dreamed of Pakistan was from Bengal? And yet the=20
contribution of the Bengalis to the establishment of Pakistan was=20
less than that of the Muslims of any other province.

Numerous books have been written on the subject of the parting of the=20
ways, but none as convincing and as touching the deeper roots of the=20
problem as Bengali language movement to Bangladesh by Anwar Dil and=20
his wife Afia Dil, he a Punjabi and she a Bengali.

More than anything else it is an eye-opener for those who were=20
blinded by the notion that Urdu was the language of all the Muslims=20
in the subcontinent and who made the Quaid-e-Azam commit the historic=20
mistake of insisting on this in a speech in Dhaka.

Whether we prove to be large-hearted enough to formally apologise to=20
the Bengalis or not, I shall be grateful if any reader will tell me=20
why, before the Pakistan Resolution came in March 1940, Muslim=20
political thinkers in the subcontinent, except those who were=20
politicians, did not keep the Bengalis in mind while presenting their=20
designs for a homeland for Indian Muslims.

Why was it always the northwest of India?

=A9 Copyright 2001 The Frontier Post

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