[sacw] SACW | 19 April 03

Harsh Kapoor aiindex@mnet.fr
Sat, 19 Apr 2003 02:49:49 +0100


South Asia Citizens Wire  |  19 April,  2003

#1. Peace overture by Mr Vajpayee? (edit , Daily Times Lahore)
#2. A tale of two women - A Married Woman, by Manju Kapur (Reviewed 
by Shailaja Neelakantan)
#3. Islamisation proposals  to be discussed at NWFP Assembly
#4. Literary Giant Stirs Up A Hornet's Nest in India (John Lancaster)
#5. Peace at what price [in Nepal]?  (Manjushree Thapa)
#6. Progressive South Asian Voices Against War On Iraq - Series:
- Open Appeal to Amnesty International to set up an Indpependent War 
Crimes Tribunal on Iraq by Eleven Peace and Human Rights Activists of 
South Asia
- Rage by Nirmalangshu Mukherji
- Dealing with the US in today's climate by Samir Kelekar
- Iraq: From the cradle of civilization to its grave by Aseem Srivastava
-  The new colours of imperialism (Mushirul Hasan | April 19, 2003)
- A Way Between The Towers: Shooting and shagging, screwing and 
killing (Bhaswati Chakravorty)
#7. Making A  Statement Against Communal Politics : The Attack On 
MKSS Shops During The VHP  Bandh on 15th April 03
#8. Stabbing at communal harmony  (edit, HindustanTimes, New Delhi)
#9. Federation of Atheist, rationalist and humanist associations in 
A.P. on renaming of State Run TV channel (Doordarshan Hyderabad) to 
SAPTAGIRI.
#10. The Nadimarg massacre was not just a gory picture. (Jessi Hempel)
#11. Pedagogy and the Future Citizen (Meenakshi Thapan)

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

#1.

The Daily Times
April 19, 2003 
 
Editorial: Peace overture by Mr Vajpayee?

Speaking at a rally in heavily guarded Srinagar on Friday, India's 
Prime Minister Atal Behari Vajpayee has signalled to Pakistan that 
New Delhi is prepared to extend "the hand of friendship", but he 
added, significantly, that "hands should be extended from both 
sides". "We want friendship and brotherhood with our neighbours 
=2E...We should resolve issues through talks. All issues can be 
resolved through talks, nothing can be solved through war."
What should Pakistan make of Mr Vajpayee's call for talks? On the 
face of it, the gesture is a welcome development. But given the past 
record of bilateral relations and the number of initiatives that have 
foundered on the rocks of mutual animosity, we can be forgiven for 
being slightly sceptical. Consider.
There is deep distrust on both sides. The situation has reached a 
pass where the two sides can communicate and signal to each other 
only during periods of one-upmanship, much like the couple George and 
Martha in Albee's "Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolfe," who have turned 
insults into a finely honed art and cannot even perform conjugal 
rites without playing games to hurt and humiliate each other. This is 
exactly what we have seen happen between Pakistan and India. Is there 
a way out of this?
There are two levels to the ongoing India-Pakistan conflict. One 
relates to game-playing; the other to the still elusive, meaningful 
task of finding a way out of the logjam. Both sides have invested 
much in the first, little or nothing in the latter. Examples of 
game-playing abound and we don't want to go into the details of 
perfidious tactics on both sides. The question is a more basic one: 
How is Mr Vajpayee's Friday overture any better, or more meaningful, 
than his previous attempts at normalising with Pakistan?
What does he mean by "hands should be extended from both sides"? Is 
he again harping on the old line: If Islamabad stops "cross-border 
infiltration", we are willing to talk? Which is setting a 
pre-condition. Or is he saying that India is setting no precondition 
for a resumption of talks and neither should Pakistan, a subtle hint 
at Pakistan's earlier insistence on playing up the "core" issue of 
Kashmir and holding all else hostage to it? If it's the first, then 
we are afraid there is not much to what he has said that he hasn't 
said earlier. If, however, it's the latter, then we are talking. No 
preconditions by either side is a definite advance.
In fact, given the second approach, we would like to remind Mr 
Vajpayee that when General Pervez Musharraf went to Agra, he made 
clear that he was prepared to talk about everything if India agreed 
to his formulation that the core dispute is Kashmir. His logic was 
that this fact could not be brushed under the carpet. But his 
approach was more nuanced than that of any previous Pakistani head of 
state: not only did he talk about an integrated dialogue on all 
issues, he spoke of solutions regarding Kashmir, not any particular 
solution. No one in Pakistan has signalled more clearly than General 
Musharraf did in Agra, that Islamabad is amenable to appreciating the 
complexity of the issue if only New Delhi would give it the space to 
do so.
But the ground from under Mr Vajpayee's feet was cut by the 
hard-liners in his own party. There was nothing General Musharraf 
could do to prevent that, though a little less panache by him in 
front of the media might just have saved the day.
We are also concerned that there is no dearth of spoilers on both 
sides. Yet, silver linings are all we can hope for right now. The 
United States is doing much to address the issue. A recent report 
indicates Deputy Secretary of State Richard Armitage will be in the 
region soon. In an interview to an Indian channel just two days ago, 
Director for Policy Planning, Richard Haass, said that Washington is 
"frustrated" by Islamabad's inability to fully stop "cross-border 
infiltration". Earlier this year, during a visit to India, Ambassador 
Haass told his Indian audience that New Delhi needs to begin talking 
to Pakistan if it wants to realise its potential. Clearly, Washington 
is weighing in on both sides. The US government was also disturbed by 
the flair of India's Foreign Minister Yashwant Sinha to run off at 
the mouth and talk of pre-emptive strikes against Pakistan just as 
much as the Pakistani government is discreetly advising loudmouths 
like Sheikh Rashid to clam up.
The world is sick of the Walpurgisnacht (Night of the Witches) in 
South Asia, not least because of the existence of nuclear weapons. 
Islamabad should welcome Mr Vajpayee's gesture rather than proffering 
a knee-jerk reaction to it. If Mr Vajpayee is serious, let him come 
up with the parameters for the talks. But if talks have to succeed, 
they must move towards negotiations. A good sign are voices within 
the BJP asking for a dialogue with Pakistan; similar statements have 
been made by former minister Omer Abdullah, son of former chief 
minister of Kashmir. The Mufti Sayeed government in held Kashmir, 
whose party cadres Mr Vajpayee addressed Friday, also wants a clear 
roadmap outlining the state's future. The circumstances, despite the 
clouds, are propitious. Let's hope the two sides take advantage of 
the tide. *


_____


#2.

Asia Times, Apr 19, 2003
BOOK REVIEW

A tale of two women
A Married Woman, by Manju Kapur
Reviewed by Shailaja Neelakantan

Manju Kapur's second novel, A Married Woman, is set in the time 
leading up to the destruction of the Babri Masjid in India in 1992. 
It deals with the crisis of a middle-class woman from Delhi caught in 
an unhappy marriage.
Aastha has had her share of schoolgirl heartaches, but once over 
them, she looks forward to married life with a nice, romantic dream 
boy. She happily agrees to an arranged marriage with an 
America-returned MBA (master of business administration), Hemant, who 
seems the complete antithesis of a traditional Indian man. When 
Aastha is pregnant, the couple inform her mother, who hopes the child 
will be a son. "But Ma, I want a daughter ... In America there is no 
difference between boys and girls. How can this country get anywhere 
if we go on treating our women this way?" says Hemant, to Aastha's 
(and her mother's) amazement.
Aastha does have a daughter and the family prospers until her husband 
inexplicably transforms into a cliche of the male chauvinist pig, in 
one throwaway sentence: "Somewhere along the way Hemant's attitude to 
Aastha changed. She told herself it was only slightly, but it 
oppressed her." Hemant now wants the second child to be a son. When 
Aastha tells Hemant that his mother has engaged a priest to perform 
rituals to ensure she gives birth to a son, Hemant sees nothing wrong 
with it. Aastha wonders aloud what would happen if she has another 
daughter. "Don't worry, sweetheart, then we will try again, it's 
perfectly all right," he says. She protests, saying she can't keep 
trying because it would be difficult for her to continue her teaching 
job if she were constantly pregnant. "Oh-ho, what is there in 
teaching? Hardly a serious job, you just go, talk to some children 
about poems and stories, organize a few clubs and come back. If you 
do feel it is so important, all the more reason not to mind if Mummy 
does some puja. Who knows, it may yield good results."
Women caught in the traditional-versus-modern bind are familiar 
terrain for Kapur, whose debut novel, Difficult Daughters, has a 
rebellious heroine who becomes the second wife of a man she loves, 
even though her family turns against her. That novel, which won the 
2000 Commonwealth Writers Prize for the best first book (Eurasia), 
has a fluid narrative, vivid historical details and a credible 
protagonist. Unfortunately, Kapur's second book has a tardy 
narrative, no believable characters and spotty grammar.
When Hemant transforms into a bad guy, Aastha starts to feels 
unappreciated, condescended to, and bored. Aastha, like Gloria 
Steinem once said, doesn't breed well in captivity. But Aastha's 
angst is tiresome and problematic to the plot. Aastha was never the 
rebellious sort and all she wanted to do was marry a romantic, rich 
guy. Her father is more of a feminist than she is. Even more 
troublesome is Aastha's sudden makeover into a political animal, by 
virtue of her meeting a political activist, Aijaz Akhtar Khan, who 
alerts her to the growing religious fundamentalism in India. Aijaz 
and his street-theater troupe are burned alive by a fundamentalist 
mob and the incident makes Aastha more committed to the cause. Her 
transformation into a flag-waving, protest-marcher fighting 
sectarianism is farcical. Virmati, the heroine of Difficult 
Daughters, is a consistent character. Aastha isn't.
It gets worse. In a strange plot twist, Aastha and Aijaz's widow 
Pipeelika start having a torrid affair. Pipeelika keeps taunting 
Aastha for not leaving her husband and says more than once, "Why did 
I think it would be different with a woman?" Why indeed? In the brief 
description the reader gets of Pipeelika's married life, there seems 
nothing chauvinistic about Aijaz. Pipeelika was annoyed that Aijaz 
delayed telling his parents they were married (he is Muslim and she 
Hindu), but that is hardly gender-specific behavior. Aastha's and 
Pipeelika's affair ends, as does, thankfully, the book.
The destruction of the Babri Masjid as the backdrop to the novel is 
ineffective, because it is inconsequential. Long tracts about 
Hindu-Muslim relations make their appearance in the novel, but they 
are stilted and seem out of place. Some of the paragraphs sound as if 
they have been lifted straight out of a pamphlet.
A Married Woman, at its best, is a weak, proto-feminist novel, and at 
its worst is a pulp romance. Gloria Steinem once said, "A woman 
without a man is like a fish without a bicycle." Steinem got married 
three years ago. Aastha returns to her husband.
A Married Woman by Manju Kapur, Faber and Faber, 2002. ISBN: 0 571 
21566. Price: US$17.29; 272 pages.


______


#3.

The News International, April 19 2003
http://www.jang.com.pk/thenews/apr2003-daily/19-04-2003/national/n5.htm
NWFP Assembly to discuss Islamisation proposals on 21st

By our correspondent

PESHAWAR: The recommendations of the Nifaz-e-Shariat Council, besides 
eight other resolutions relating to the federal government, would be 
presented in the forthcoming assembly session of NWFP Assembly 
requisitioned by opposition. It will be held on April 21.

The eight resolutions were already presented by the NSC to the MMA 
government with its detail recommendations to implement Islamic 
system in the province. The MMA provincial cabinet has already 
approved the council report and assured to present it in the 
forthcoming session.

The joint opposition, which had earlier, obtained signature from its 
43 members for requisitioning session, delayed its submission in 
assembly secretariat, when the chairman of the council Mufti Ghulamur 
Rehman, presented his council report to the government.

The opposition said that the government would have to summon assembly 
session to adopt Islamisation of the province bill but later they had 
to take signatures from its members once again to discuss their seven 
points agenda; which includes NFC award, provincial finance 
commission, net profit on hydel power generation, Tameer-e-Sarhad 
Programme under which the MMA government has allocated Rs 5 million 
to each MPA, contract appointments, large-scale irregularities in 
appointments and transfers in government departments, price hike, 
lawlessness.

In the first resolution, the NWFP Assembly has been asked to 
recommend the federal government to amend article 193 of the 
constitution to appoint Ulema judges in High Courts. The appointment 
of Ulema judges should be made keeping in view the nature of work and 
number of judges in every province. With the same time, it suggest 
that the Hudood cases, appeals should be brought under the 
jurisdiction of High Courts and those cases should be heard by the 
bench comprising on Ulema.

In the second resolution, the federal government has been asked to 
stop delaying tactics in eliminating interest-based system in the 
country. To purge the country's economy from interests, all rules 
regarding interests should be abolished and enforce Islamic financial 
system according to the report of Islamic Ideology Council and 
Quran-0-Sunnah.

The third resolution will recommend the federal government for the 
permanent appointment of judges at Federal Shariat Court and same 
facilities for them as were being given to other judges. The 
discrimination between Ulema and regular judges should be eliminated, 
with the appointments of ulema judges, the court should be declared 
permanent appointment of ulema judges in Shariat Appellate Bench and 
they should be given the same facilities being enjoyed by the judges 
of the Supreme Court of Pakistan. The same resolution said 
subordinate courts under the Federal Shariat Court should be 
established at provincial level like those of the High Courts.

In fourth resolution, the federal government will be asked to make 
the Qisas and Hudood laws practicable, as the existing British system 
could not fulfil the requirement of justice. The fifth resolution 
asked the government to declare the list of joint legislation in 
Pakistan as provincial legislative list. The sixth resolution asked 
the government to end obscenity and vulgarity on electronic media, 
seventh asked to declare Friday as weekly official holiday.


______


#4.

The Washington Post , April 17, 2003; Page A19

Literary Giant Stirs Up A Hornet's Nest in India
Khushwant Singh Says Hindu Nationalism Poses Grave Threat

PHOTO: Singh, 88, has special criticism for an organization he 
considers fascist, and which gave rise to India's ruling party. (File 
Photo/John Moore -- AP)

By John Lancaster
Washington Post Foreign Service

NEW DELHI -- "Are you a drinking man? Good. Come at seven."

No surprises there. Last year, after a half-century in India's 
literary limelight, author and journalist Khushwant Singh announced 
that he was retiring from public life "on my own terms, with creature 
comforts and Scotch."

Cocktail hour finds him sprawled comfortably in his favorite 
armchair, feet propped on a wicker stool and a glass of Black Label 
in his hand.

=46ew would begrudge him the right. A legendary bon vivant who 
abandoned a career in law to become one of India's most celebrated 
and prolific writers, Singh has published more than 100 books, from 
novels to collections of bawdy jokes to serious scholarly works such 
as his two-volume history of the Sikhs, now in its 20th printing.

But at the age of 88, Singh is proving that he can still make a splash.

In a controversial new book that may turn out to be his last, Singh 
argues that the rise of right-wing Hindu nationalism -- as manifested 
in discrimination and sometimes violence against the country's large 
Muslim minority -- poses a grave and perhaps irreversible threat to 
India's future as a secular, pluralistic democracy. The book's 
apocalyptic title: "The End of India."

Singh is hardly the first liberal writer to sound alarms about the 
dangers of mixing politics and religion in India, and most of his 
slender new book consists of essays that have already been published 
elsewhere. But Singh's stature as a literary giant in the sunset of 
his career, and the unrelenting bleakness of his predictions -- 
outlined in a lengthy new introduction -- have propelled the book to 
the top of India's nonfiction bestseller lists in less than a month.

"India is going to the dogs, and unless a miracle saves us, the 
country will break up," Singh writes in the introduction. "It will 
not be Pakistan or any other foreign power that will destroy us. We 
will commit hara-kiri."

The villain of Singh's narrative is the Rashtriya Sawayamsevak Sangh, 
or RSS, the Hindu-nationalist organization that drew partial 
inspiration from the Fascist movements of Europe between the world 
wars -- and whose many offshoots include India's ruling Bharatiya 
Janata Party. "It could be dismissed as a lunatic group as long as it 
remained on the fringes of mainstream politics," Singh writes. "Not 
anymore."

Ram Madhav, the chief RSS spokesman here, said he was "shocked" by 
the book when he read it a few weeks ago. "These are very 
irresponsible statements coming from a writer of the stature of Mr. 
Khushwant Singh," he said in an interview. "The RSS has never made 
enemies of or targeted any minorities. All we have said is that Hindu 
self-respect should be honored by everyone."

Singh's sky-is-falling analysis also has detractors among some 
erstwhile admirers. "I don't want to remember Khushwant Singh by the 
impression this book leaves behind," one reviewer wrote in the 
liberal magazine Outlook. "It would be horrible and cruel if this 
book ends up as his swan song."

Among other criticisms, the reviewer described the book as "trite," 
"unreadable" and burdened with "assertion rather than analysis."

India Today, the country's largest newsmagazine, was scarcely more 
charitable. "Somehow, the doomsday clock ticking away on Kushwant's 
desk doesn't ring right," the reviewer wrote. "Certainly recent 
events, most notably the rise of Hindu militancy, are a cause for 
concern. But no one can seriously buy his argument that the country 
is about to break up."

Singh said he isn't bothered by critics who find his conclusions 
overwrought. "India Today said it will give you nightmares -- that's 
the whole idea, to warn the country," he said.

Still, he added, a little clarification is in order: "I didn't say 
the end of India. I said the end of secular India."

So what about the title? "I didn't give the title -- the publisher 
did. He was trying to sell it."

Singh came relatively late to the profession that would make him 
famous. A member of the Sikh religious minority, he was born into a 
well-to-do family in what is now Pakistan and, after studying at 
London University, set up a law practice in Lahore. That lasted until 
1947, when the partition of the subcontinent into India and Pakistan 
triggered an explosion of communal violence that forced millions to 
flee their homes.

"I had no intention of leaving," recalled Singh, who by that time was 
married with two small children. "I thought it would all blow over."

=46inally a British police officer, a friend from college, convinced 
Singh that he had no choice but to leave. He gave his house keys to a 
Muslim friend and "that was it."

After moving to New Delhi, where his father was a successful property 
developer, Singh joined the Indian diplomatic corps, taking posts in 
Canada and London. He never had any regrets about leaving the law. "A 
common prostitute renders more service to society than a lawyer," he 
wrote in his autobiography, published last year. "If anything the 
comparison is unfair to the whore."

Singh launched his literary career while living overseas, beginning 
work on his history of the Sikhs and writing his first novel, "Train 
to Pakistan," which dealt with the themes of communalism that would 
inform much of his subsequent work. It was published to international 
acclaim in 1956.

In the intervening decades, Singh has edited several leading 
magazines and newspapers, including the Hindustan Times, for which he 
still writes a weekly column. He also taught briefly at Princeton and 
even found time to serve in Parliament from 1980 to 1986.

Asked about his many hats, Singh replied, "Must I have only one? I 
wear a six-yard turban to cover a lot of sins."

Despite his record of scholarship and literary achievement, Singh has 
cultivated a public persona as something of a scamp. His 
autobiography is filled with sexual misadventures, several involving 
prostitutes. His 1999 novel, "In the Company of Woman," could just as 
well have been titled, "Fantasies of an Octogenarian," as Singh put 
it in an author's note.

"When you meet a woman you wonder what she'll be like in bed," he 
explained to an interviewer at the time. "My mind is no dirtier than 
most men's. I am honest and I say it. Fantasizing is a common 
phenomenon and there's no censorship here."

Singh's public profile has diminished in recent years. His wife, 
Kaval, died last year after 62 years of marriage, and since then he 
has largely honored his pledge to "opt out of the rat race." He 
spends most of his days in his ground-floor apartment, surrounded by 
books and paintings of bare-breasted women. An illustrated copy of 
the Kama Sutra sits on the coffee table.

=46or several hours each day, Singh works on a novel that he began two 
years ago, writing it out in longhand on a yellow legal pad. But the 
project, which deals with "bigotry and fanaticism," is "getting 
nowhere," Singh said matter-of-factly. He spends most afternoons in 
his small garden. Unannounced visitors are discouraged.

"I can be very rough with people who arrive without an appointment," he said=
=2E

But if old age and infirmity have taken their toll -- Singh gave up 
tennis two years ago after concluding that opponents were humoring 
him -- Singh's eyes still sparkle mischievously from behind his 
steel-rimmed spectacles. And he still has the power to provoke.

Sipping his Scotch the other day while reflecting on the themes he 
outlined in his book, he compared the situation in India today to 
that of Germany in the waning days of the Weimar Republic. When Hindu 
nationalists speak of restoring the country's lost honor, he said, 
"the targets are really the Muslims. They're the Jews, what the Jews 
were to the Nazis."

=46or evidence, he added, one need only turn on the television, where 
"every fourth channel is spouting Hinduism, and two or three are 
entirely devoted to astrology. Can anything be more backward?"

Singh voiced particular distress at the role of mainstream 
politicians, among them Prime Minister Atal Bihari Vajpayee, in 
promoting the nationalist doctrine of Hindutva, or Hindu-ness.

"He can be so damn sweet and convincing," Singh said of Vajpayee, an 
acquaintance of his. But "before a receptive Hindu audience he says 
something quite different."

On the other hand, Singh said, the prime minister may not be wholly 
beyond redemption. "He is a drinking man," Singh said approvingly. 
"He's more human than the others."


=A9 2003 The Washington Post Company

_____


#5.

Nepali Times | 18 -24 April 2003

Peace at what price?
Ten weeks into the ceasefire, the action has shifted to Kathmandu 
streets. In the countryside, victims of war wait for the truth to be 
told.
MANJUSHREE THAPA in JUMLA

Nepalis want peace-but at any price? Not if you listen to the people 
of the war-torn hinterlands. In Dailekh and Kalikot and Jumla, people 
who have seen family members and neighbours killed either by the 
Maoists or by state security forces are asking what will be done, in 
the peace process, to redress these killings.

While in faraway Kathmandu the government announces its negotiating 
team, the villagers ask whether all the war dead will ever be 
accounted for. While political parties and the palace jostle for 
advantage, the Jumlis want to know whether their families will be 
compensated. "What will happen in cases where civilians were wrongly 
branded Maoists and killed by the state?" asks a teacher in Haudi. A 
farmer from Pakha asks if compensation is on the agenda for the peace 
talks. In Tatopani, a young Maoist cadre asks why human rights 
organisations have not documented all the violations of the past 
year: "Will they ever come to find out what has happened?"

These raw questions are not being heard in Kathmandu, which in the 
past few weeks has been as giddy with bad politics as ever. Now that 
the Maoists have come above-ground, the media, intellectuals, NGOs 
and other civil society actors are in a mad rush to kiss and make up, 
in between attending conflict-resolution talk-shops. At his first 
press conference, even Baburam Bhattarai became coy when asked about 
IGP Krishna Mohan Shrestha's death. He preferred, he said, not to 
dwell on the individuals who had been killed in the war. It would be 
more constructive to look forward than back, he said.

This would obviously help exonerate his party members from the 
murders that they have committed. It would also help exonerate the 
state security forces, which, if made to look back, would have to 
answer allegations of rape, torture, disappearances, arbitrary 
detention, and killings of thousands of civilians and unarmed Maoists.

Do we really want this kind of a "quick-fix" peace? It would be 
dangerous, say human rights activists. "The trauma of war has to be 
addressed all the way down to the village level," says Bhogendra 
Sharma of the rights group, CVICT. "The government must set up a 
truth and reconciliation commission."

Subodh Pyakurel of INSEC agrees. "The process of truth and 
reconciliation should begin the day the peace talks begin. At the 
very minimum, every violation must be documented. Those who committed 
crimes must take responsibility for them. And those who suffered at 
their hands must forgive them." The motto 'Forgive, but forget not' 
motivated the Truth and Reconciliation Commission in South Africa.

International human rights experts point out that achieving truth and 
reconciliation is a drawn-out, complicated process, especially in 
countries such as Nepal, with weak justice systems. The push for 
peace can make people compromise on discovering the truth. "The 
biggest danger at times like these is that the day they sign the 
peace agreement, all past violations will be forgotten," says 
Pyakurel. "Sentimentality will take over. Someone will say, 
'Whatever's happened has happened. Now we are united.' From that day 
on, all the perpetrators of war crimes and of human rights violations 
will get blanket immunity."

The Mallik Commission report of 1990 stands as an infamous example. 
That report on government repression during the People's Movement was 
buried soon after its preparation, an atmosphere of moral compromise 
tainted all the political parties from the start of the second 
democratic era.

An Amnesty International report last year cited state-supported 
intimidation of a young girl allegedly raped in the Chisapani army 
barracks. If this glaring case could not be countered, who will press 
for the truth about the 7,000+ dead, and the other casualties of war? 
"That doubt is well founded," Pyakurel admits. "The human rights 
community has its weaknesses. Because of our past affiliations, our 
present political loyalties, the state favours that we depend on, and 
the relationship between the state, the parties and international 
partners, we sometimes cannot fulfil our duties."

"I won't say that a truth and reconciliation commission here would be 
unsuccessful," he concludes. "But it may not be as successful as it 
should be."


_____


#6.

PROGRESSIVE SOUTH ASIAN VOICES AGAINST WAR ON IRAQ - SERIES:
http://www.mnet.fr/aiindex/iraq/

- Open Appeal to Amnesty International to set up an Indpependent War 
Crimes Tribunal on Iraq by Eleven Peace and Human Rights Activists of 
South Asia (April 18, 2003)
http://www.mnet.fr/aiindex/iraq/safhrOnIraq170403.html
- Rage by Nirmalangshu Mukherji (April 18, 2003)
http://www.mnet.fr/aiindex/iraq/NMukherji180403.html
- Dealing with the US in today's climate by Samir Kelekar (April 18, 2003)
http://www.mnet.fr/aiindex/iraq/Kelkar180403.html
- Iraq: From the cradle of civilization to its grave by Aseem 
Srivastava (April 17, 2003)
http://www.mnet.fr/aiindex/iraq/Aseem170403.html

o o o

  The new colours of imperialism (Mushirul Hasan | April 19, 2003)
http://www.thehindu.com/2003/04/19/stories/2003041900271000.htm

o o o

The Telegraph, April 19, 2003
A Way Between The Towers: Shooting and shagging, screwing and killing
REVIEW ARTICLE BHASWATI CHAKRAVORTY
http://www.telegraphindia.com/1030419/asp/opinion/story_1886240.asp

_____


#7.

THE ATTACK ON MKSS SHOPS DURING THE VHP ( TOGADIA ) BANDH ON THE 15TH OF
APRIL 03: MAKING A  STATEMENT AGAINST COMMUNAL POLITICS

When Togadia chose Ajmer to distribute his version of the trishul, a
weapon that can kill, the local Hindutva elements started to strut
around. He gives venomous energy and a sense of legitimacy to the lumpin
elements in society. They get inspired by his abusive language and his
hatred filled dreams of power. So what happened with the call for the VHP
bandh on the 15th was not surprising. We decided to keep open the Mazdoor
Kisan Kirana Stores- fair price shops run by the MKSS in Jawaja,
Surajpura, Todgarh and Bhim. While Bhim was quiet partly because of firm
action taken against Kalu Ram Sankla, self styled don of the Shiv Sena
Commando Force, and Todgarh was quiet too, Jawaja and Surajpura got the
brunt of the wounded pride of the VHP and its conglomerate, partly as a
fallout of the Sankla episode.

  Kaluram Sankla, self styled president of the Shiv Sena Commando force
came and held a ^"dharma sabha^' in Bhim in February 2003. The purpose of
the sabha was actually to  publicly distribute  swords and Pharsas (an
axe like weapon) accompanied by filthy hate speeches. When the MKSS filed
=46IRS against him, and demanded strong action, the government  booked him
first under section 153 A and then later under NSA. Bhim now minds how it
treats public spaces and fears the consequences of participating in the
Sangh Parivar^"s aggressive and unlawful tactics. Though like most small
towns it is still a BJP base and vote bank.

  On the 15th  of April, the MKSS shops in Jawaja and Surajpura opened as
usual .When they were ordered  to pull their shutters down in support of
the bandh to protest against Togadia^"s arrest in Ajmer , they refused to
comply. The MKSS workers were then abused and threatened  by a small mob
of 50 odd lumpin elements led by Sita Singh,  BJP Ajmer Zila Parishad
member, Mool Singh aspirant for the MLA ticket from the BJP, and Prabhu
Singh Panchayat Samiti member Jawaja. They shouted communal abuses at all
the MKSS comrades, in particular against Chunni Singh. The SHO and the
police were present and tried to persuade the MKSS to shut the shop down
for the sake of peace and maintaining ^"law and order^'!&nbs

  There has been tension since then; the younger lumpin elements keeping
the bazaar closed for 3 days after that, threatening the other shop
keepers and preventing them from opening their shops. The 20 who were
booked u/s 151 of the IPC have  been let out on bail and the other five
have been  re-arrested on the 17th of April.

  The MKSS has been involved with anti-communal activites since 1992. This
began after the demolition of the Babri Masjid. We spent a year doing
little else. The shop which was set up a few weeks earlier in Bhim,
became an important entry point into the communal Hindutva politics of
Bhim. We used the shop to sit, literally in the middle of the  stronghold
of the BJP and the RSS; a constant  irritant. We showed ^-ram ke naam^"
on a video screen and took the constitutional oath for a secular
democratic India, in the hot bed of the RSS stronghold. The disgruntled
were angry and aggressive but could do nothing. At that time too the MKSS
had refused to pull the shutters down when the BJP had called for a bandh
to protest against the arrest of LK Advani. The MKSS shop was open to
business and the market opened within hours.

  The shops have had ups and downs, problems with this and that and there
are times when we wonder whether we should carry on with this
^"commercial^' activity. But once again the shops have given us space and
helped us make a very strong statement opposing communal politics. The
majority of the community in the villages of that area are not in
sympathy with the bandh anyway. This has been proved by the sale proceeds
in the last 3 days, despite calls for the boycott of the MKSS shop. At
the end of the day the till added to over 12000 rupees, twice  the normal
daily earnings of the Mazdoor Kisan Kirana Store!

  Most importantly the sangh parivar is exposing its real intent to
encroach on all public spaces and its inability to be democratic and
accept contradictory points of view. By the MKSS standing up to their
bullying, the people in the area have got opportunities to join the
debate, and in effect, expose the shallowness of the support  for these
fundamentalist causes.

We are still in the middle of this incident in many ways . We do not
quite know what turn it will take. But we will continue to state our
point of view and confront these forces. We will keep you posted on the
happenings

Nikhil , Aruna, Shankar, Chunni Singh, Hanswarup, Narayan, Ram Singh,
Sushila, Sua, Raju, Teju, Ranjit, Bhagwan, Narender, Viram Singh,Lakshman
(MKSS)

Mazdoor Kisan Shakti Sangathan (MKSS)
Village: Devdungri, Post: Barar,
District Rajsamand
Rajasthan, Pin Code-313341
India.
Tel:91-2951-243254, 91-2951-250655,(messages) telefax:91-2951-250180
=46ax:91-1463-288206 (attn:aruna roy)


_____


#8.

The Hindustan Times, April 19, 2003   | Editorial

Stabbing at communal harmony
  Is Rajasthan the next communal flashpoint after Gujarat? In the 
recent past, several places in Rajasthan have witnessed ugly scenes 
which stopped short of riots mainly due to a watchful administration.

By putting a ban on carrying or distributing trishuls, Chief Minister 
Ashok Gehlot has shown his commitment to those who seem equally 
determined to inflame communal passions before the next elections due 
in November.

In the past four years, over 10,000 trishuls have been ceremonially 
distributed and fiery speeches made in carefully selected minority or 
tribal areas. Bhilwara was an obvious choice in 2001 after a Hindu 
mob demolished remains of a disused mosque that stood for centuries, 
curiously, in the middle of a large temple complex. Phagi near Jaipur 
was chosen right after local Dalits were prevented by upper-caste 
Hindus from bathing in the village pond. Gangapur in Sawai Madhopur 
witnessed trishul rallies after three people were killed in police 
firing when a mob tried to block the Moharram procession in Godhara's 
aftermath. Instead of denying charges, the VHP claims that the actual 
number of trishuls doled out in Rajasthan since 1998 is 70,000. 
Notwithstanding its larger-than-life postures, it was difficult to 
ignore the VHP's claim that it was determined to 'arm' over one lakh 
people in Alwar district which has not seen a major riot in decades 
despite a large population of Meo Muslims.

The method is to take trishuls to areas of potential or spontaneous 
conflict and wait for a conflagration. What began as a dull campaign 
is now becoming a frenzy as polls approach. RSS chief Mohan Bhagwat, 
the VHP's Giriraj Kishore and Ashok Singhal are among the 
rabble-rousers who have descended over Rajasthan after Praveen 
Togadia's arrest. The entire Sangh parivar, including the BJP, has 
vowed to intensify the illegal campaign. Poll gimmick or otherwise, 
it's time the trishul controversy - and the way it's being bandied 
about - pricks the conscience of the BJP leadership.


_____


#9.

Date: Sun, 13 Apr 2003 19:04:54 -0400

=46rom: Innaiah.N coordinator, Federation of Atheist, rationalist and 
humanist associations in A.P.

We the member organisations of the Federation of Atheist, Rationalist and
Humanist Associations of Andhra Pradesh are astonished that Doordarshan
Hyderabad has changed  its name to SAPTAGIRI.
Saptagiri, meaning Seven Hills, is clearly a reference to the 'Seven Hills'
of Tirumala, where the temple for Lord Venkateswara is located. The Tirumala
Tirupati Devasthanam, the second richest religious centre in the world after
the Vatican, does considerable damage to India's progress by propagating
through its publications superstitions and blind faith.

Doordarshan certainly needs a change of image and needs to attract more
viewers for its programmes. A public service channel like Doordarshan should
urgently professionalise its production, take steps to recruit comptetent
anchors, and has also an obligation to make programme content more relevant
to people's needs, in an illiterate country like India. The government has
now received Prasar Bharathi's recommendations (under the Chairmanship of
Veteran Journalist and Hintutva advocate M.NV. Kamath) which include
reintroduction of a licence fee to finance DD's programmes.

Being financed by public funds like the present way or in future through
licence fees imposes obligations, and FARA demands that instead of pandering
to Hindutva, Doordarshan fulfill its legal and consitutional obligations of
impartial news reporting, and impartial programming. Doordarshan Hyderabad
should immediately revert to its well known name or reveal the market
surveys undertaken which have resulted in this change of name and the
religious identities of those involved in the decision making.

In a media and entertainment world where songs and dances are taking
precedence over knowledge and impartial news, Doordarshan must live up to
the uniqe ideals to fulfil which it has been established.  This includes the
non-negotiable obligation of reflecting India's plural culture and
non-favouritism to any religious denomination or community, be it a majority
or a minority.
_____


#10.

Indian Express, April 19, 2003

What lies beneath
The Nadimarg massacre was not just a gory picture. Jessi Hempel still 
can't find the right words for its caption.

Like many American journalists, I hopped onto a plane last month to 
cover a conflict, but I didn't end up in Baghdad. Instead, I went to 
Kashmir, that frequent nuclear flashpoint forgotten as soon as 
tension heats up in another part of the world.

I'd come as part of a university trip to spend a week interviewing 
women who were grieving. Instead, the day after I arrived, I found 
myself in a car being driven at top speed to a village where more 
than half the residents lay dead.

The two-hour trip was my first introduction to the Valley. Small 
girls in headscarves lined up in schoolyards for morning prayers. 
Boys in woollen coats played cricket. Against the backdrop of the 
hills, spread the yellow-blossomed mustard fields and spindly apple 
orchards. More than that, I felt for the first time, how both my US 
passport and my shoulder-length blonde hair can weigh heavier than 
they actually are.

I was on my way to Nadimarg, a village so small it hadn't earned its 
place on the Valley's 14-year-old blood-soaked map until that 
morning. Hours earlier, my local guide had told me that 24 Hindu 
Pandits were brutally slaughtered in the Valley's worst massacre in 
three years. ''Do you want to come with me to cover it?'' he'd asked.

Earlier that morning, sitting in a room in a deserted hotel in 
downtown Srinagar, I'd watched BBC TV reporting the Coalition's 
advances in southern Iraq, I had read the local newspaper's 
front-page headlines about how the entire city would be closed in 
protest against the US. How could I want to weave my way through the 
Kashmir landscape to see this horrific event? But I grabbed a bandana 
to cover my hair and jumped into the car.

As we passed through villages, we passed young men gathered to 
express ''anti-US'' sentiment. In the village of Pulwama, a growing 
crowd pressed against our car, raising their fiery effigy of George 
Bush. The turquoise bandana didn't seem enough to hide my identity 
from a crowd that saw Bush's image in my own.

As we neared, a stick hit the window of our car. I ducked into the 
foot well of the backseat while my fellow classmate, Mike McPhate, 
averted his face. Though he's travelled in Kashmir before, he later 
admitted he was shaken by the incident. Our US passports, once 
enviable to most travellers, suddenly felt like our greatest 
liabilities.

=46ar more frightening was the massacre site. Nadimarg was tucked so 
far into the countryside that dirt roads gave way to a pot-holed path 
upon which large military vehicles moved back and forth. Army 
officers stood at attention every few feet. I wandered past the 
journalists and the police to where one woman wailed at the head of 
her dead husband.

His sheet-covered corpse, along with 23 others, formed a long line of 
bright white cotton rectangles, which stood in sharp contrast to the 
muted earth tones of a town that hadn't seen new development in many 
decades. The last time I'd reported on a death, the American victim 
had had a short illness. I saw her only in a funeral home casket, her 
body preserved and her face made up so she looked like she was taking 
a nap. This death was different.

Beneath the sheets, most victims had been mutilated, their insides 
spilling into the dirt, their faces unrecognisable. Someone directed 
me to the Chinar tree across from the pink Hindu temple where the 
villagers had been rounded up and shot.

=46irst I saw a woman's shoe, a lantern, and a pair of flip flops; then 
I noticed the blood. It hadn't yet dried, and it welled up in puddles 
between brown and yellow leaves. From the little crime reporting I 
have done, this scene would necessitate yellow tape, white chalk, and 
forensic scientists who would take samples from these items to a 
laboratory to eventually help identify the murderers.

But two days later when I returned, the shoes hadn't yet been moved, 
the blood had become brown and crusty. The dead leaves had covered a 
lot of the stains.

Later in the morning, a paramedic moved down the row of bodies with a 
silver dish, performing a Hindu ritual by spooning water into the 
mouths of the deceased. As he pulled the sheet from a body toward the 
centre of the line, the miniature features of a child appeared, his 
hair matted against a graying forehead. As the paramedic spooned 
water into his mouth, blood gurgled up and spilled from his lips.

My job as a journalist was to document the situation through words 
and photographs. But my fingers remained frozen, my camera hanging 
limp from my neck. My knees buckled and swayed, and vomit rose to the 
back of my mouth. Mike and I were the only Western journalists to 
record the day's events. I was the only woman. I felt I needed to 
toughen up, to brace myself against my emotions. If the past two days 
were any indication, covering death was a way of life for reporters 
in the Valley.

As I looked up, I noticed a steadily growing crowd of Muslim 
neighbours. They came walking along the thin path that connects this 
cluster of homes to the Muslim neighbourhood across the gorge. In 
their faces were fear and agony. They sat with the survivors, brought 
them water and held their hands and heads.

As per stereotypes I'd acquired through things I'd read, I'd always 
thought that Hindus and Muslims didn't get along. I entertained 
images of vicious Islamic militants perpetrating hatred towards their 
neighbours. But in Nadimarg, Muslim neighbours came by the hundreds 
to express their grief and outrage. One Hindu survivor told me the 
Muslims had planned for the Hindu funerals and helped with 
arrangements for the bodies' cremations.

I approached some Hindu women on a blanket and one woman, the aunt of 
the two deceased children, beckoned to me to take her photograph. As 
I touched her shoulder, she placed both hands on my arm. I wanted 
something that would allow me to say that I was trying to understand 
her grief but I had nothing except a camera. So I took scores of 
photographs, pictures I have trouble looking at now that I'm back in 
the United States.

I watched politicians show up late in the afternoon, deliver their 
speeches and leave. It seemed the event had become a rallying point 
for their political agendas. In fact, the following day, L.K. Advani 
visited Nadimarg. I'd had the chance to interview Advani in Delhi 
just days before and he'd seemed so affable in his grand North Block 
office as he shook our hands.

In Nadimarg, he shook his fist, blaming India's ''neighbour'' for the 
event and inferring that the Hindu Pandits should leave for Jammu if 
they felt ''insecure''. To be fair to him, however, he did mention 
that an exodus of Hindus from the Valley was ''what the enemy 
wanted''.

As I mingled among the villagers, an old man asked where I was from. 
I paused, thought, then lied: France. ''Good,'' he said. ''They're 
with us.'' Never misrepresent yourself, that's what we are taught as 
journalists. But for that fleeting moment, my pangs of guilt were 
buried under my fears of security. I spent the late afternoon on a 
grassy hill some 50 feet from the bodies, smoking cigarettes even 
though I don't smoke. The Kashmiri journalist who was my guide told 
me he was 32. He said 70 per cent of his nursery school class had 
lost their lives to this conflict. Every time I looked up, it seemed 
some soldier's gun was pointed directly at my head, and I kept 
shifting position to steer myself clear of their potential lines of 
fire.

My guide pulled folded graph paper from his wallet and read from a 
poem he'd written: ''Before Satan gets you, get the hell out of this 
place.''

Now that I'm back in the US, I read the body counts plastered on the 
front page of our local newspaper: 136 British and US soldiers. CNN 
has posted each of their pictures on its website with their names, 
ages, and the way that they died. I see the victorious picture 
postcards from the streets of Baghdad and Tikrit, of a child kissing 
a US soldier, of an adult hugging a Marine. And I wonder where the 
truth lies, is there something beyond the frame of these pictures 
that didn't make it to the camera lens? Or am I reading too much into 
these simple scenes?

On the night of the massacre, I returned to my hotel room exhausted. 
If I were at home, I would surely have participated in San Francisco 
street protests against the war. But on the way back to Srinagar, my 
heart sped up in fear whenever we passed through a village where 
there might be a demonstration.

I borrowed a headscarf to wear and spent the remainder of the week 
clumsily trying to prevent it from slipping off my head. Later that 
evening, I watched the Academy Awards from the safety of my hotel 
room. Steve Martin made jokes about Bush. American movie stars 
paraded across a stage in dresses that cost more than my college 
education.

I sought refuge in the frivolity of an event. And when I closed my 
eyes, I saw a woman's shoe dripping in blood against the foot of a 
Chinar tree. I still see that picture, I search for the right words 
for its caption.

The writer, a graduate student at the University of California, 
Berkeley, and her colleague, Mike McPhate, covered the Nadimarg 
massacre for salon.com

_____


#11.

Economic and Poilitical Weekly (Bombay)
April 12, 2003

Pedagogy and the Future Citizen

A primary institution through which values and norms are 
simultaneously constituted and reproduced in society is the school. 
While conceptual categories such as the educational code, pedagogic 
work, pedagogic authority and so on have been examined as essential 
components of schooling practices that further relations of power and 
social control, it is contended here that the pedagogic encounter 
that does not exclusively take place in the location and context of 
the school is critical to this process.

Meenakshi Thapan

One aspect of the current war being waged by the US in Iraq is the 
manner in which the Muslim and 'uncivilised' other has been carefully 
constructed into an untrustworthy and alien foe. Although supporters 
of the American president may cry themselves hoarse about Saddam's 
vile dictatorship as being the single most convincing reason for the 
use of force, there is no doubt that they have succeeded in the 
othering, and exclusion, of Muslims across the world from what they 
consider the civilised and modern world. Civilised nations, it 
appears, must therefore go to war with the barbaric and uncivilised 
in their laudatory attempts to curtail the spread of what they 
consider immoral and destructive behaviour. In such a construction, 
normative definitions of 'right' values and morals, 'right' judgments 
and forms of ideal citizenship, abound in the already fractured 
domain of the national and international imaginary. These values are 
constructed not only by the politics of international coalitions but 
are also embedded in national cultures and practices and find 
legitimacy in the manner in which they are reproduced through state 
and other institutions in society.

A primary institution through which values and norms are 
simultaneously constituted and reproduced in society is the school. 
The relationship between pedagogy and citizenship is premised on the 
relationship between pedagogy and values that has been examined in 
the context of school textbooks in terms of the manner in which they 
reflect and identify the constituents of citizenship within the 
parameters of the dominant ideologies of society. In schools, notions 
of citizenship are embedded within the ethics of citizenship, namely, 
what constitutes a good citizen and normative definitions of 
citizenship that prevail in terms such as 'ek achha nagrik', whether 
this takes place textually or in the everyday discourse of schools in 
India. The self is constructed in terms of a normative value placed 
on relationship to the nation in terms of the components of selfhood, 
citizenship and nation-building. Schooling produces through excessive 
specialisation, and clearly demarcated and strictly maintained 
boundaries, an 'abhorrence of mixed categories, blurred identities 
and intolerance of ambiguity' as Rubina Saigol, the well known 
Pakistani sociologist tells us, which results in the construction of 
pure and unmixed social categories.

We find that this takes place not only through the habitus but also 
through processes of social reproduction in schools. However, 
although conceptual categories such as the educational code, 
pedagogic work, pedagogic authority, and so on, have been examined as 
essential components of schooling practices that further relations of 
power and social control, I contend that the pedagogic encounter that 
does not exclusively take place in the location and context of the 
school is critical to this process. The pedagogic encounter indicates 
the process of transmission which is critical to life in school. Such 
transmission is not however a one-way process but an encounter in 
which both the pedagogue and the pupil are simultaneously engaged. 
Such an encounter is also not limited spatially to the school and 
includes, for example, historically, the colonialist discourse on 
educating natives as well as nationalist interventions in educational 
practice. It is located also in the family in the process of 
socialisation practices that lead, for example, to the constitution 
of gendered identities and reproduction of patriarchy. The pedagogic 
encounter is therefore the process of communication through which 
knowledge and culture is communicated, contested, revised, 
appropriated or challenged; and it becomes crucial to understand this 
process in terms of the socio-political underpinnings of the 
different contexts and locations within which such encounters take 
place. In the contemporary public and social discourse, these include 
the space within which the creation of the notion of citizen as 
protector of national honour takes place, viewed through coloured 
lens, and a valorisation of aspects of relations between self and 
nation that emphasise honour, integrity, purity and above all, 
dignity.

Who now constitutes the 'good' citizen? It is significant that in 
this post-colonial society, the good citizen remains one who seeks to 
protect national honour and liberate the nation from foreign 
domination of different kinds. The 'achha nagrik' is now one who 
emphasises the pure, the constant, the dominant in terms of what is 
sacred and dominant in a Hindu India as being that which must 
prevail. The othering of those who are excluded from notions of 
citizenship takes place through an emphasis on the 'foreignness' of 
some citizens such as Christians who may even occupy positions of 
constitutional power and authority (for example, our Chief Election 
Commissioner) thereby excluding them morally from a legitimate public 
and social domain that is encased in the 'values' of a dominant 
culture.

All these normative definitions of citizenship do not necessarily 
articulate within the classroom in a school but through the media, 
and other public spaces, finding a place in the minds and lives of 
children. The pedagogic encounter therefore is not restricted to a 
building or an institution but takes place in the everyday lives of 
children both within well-defined spaces as well as in more amorphous 
and nebulous spaces where identities are constructed, selfhood is 
defined and redefined, and boundaries are created and recreated. 
If we examine these spaces, as well as those within schools, as 
constitutive of relations of ruling in the everyday life histories of 
both selves and societies, we will find how selves are not only 
included or excluded, affirmed or alienated, but how 
socially constructed and other-ed selves are eventually removed, with 
surgical precision, from the social and public domain. We must surely 
be conscious that in this process we are only stepping back into 
history, into conflict, struggle and war and not moving forward into 
a just, fearless and more enabling future.

[I must thank Shahid Amin for selecting a fine topic for the brief 
presentation at the University of Heidelberg-University of Delhi 
meeting organised by him in February this year.]


_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/

SACW is an informal, independent & non-profit citizens wire service run by
South Asia Citizens Web (www.mnet.fr/aiindex).

DISCLAIMER: Opinions expressed in materials carried in the posts do not
necessarily reflect the views of SACW compilers.