SACW | Nov. 24, 2006 |
Harsh Kapoor
aiindex at mnet.fr
Thu Nov 23 22:06:52 CST 2006
South Asia Citizens Wire | November 24, 2006 | Dispatch No. 2323 - Year 8
[1] India and Pakistan: Inimical co-existence (M B Naqvi)
[2] Operation Recovery and the abduction of
women and children during the Partition riots
(Kamla Patel)
[3] India: The Indian Left's tightrope act (Praful Bidwai)
[4] Shazia's week (Shazia Mirza)
[5] India: Goodbye, Bangalore - The pain of
parting with the familiar (The Economist)
[6] India: Complaint against the illegal
detention and torture of Afzal Khan in
Chhattisgarh
[7] Book Review: Letting silence speak (Karen Herland)
[8] Upcoming Events:
Theatre films . . . (New Delhi 25th & 26th November)
____
[1]
Deccan Herald
24 November 2006
INDIA AND PAKISTAN: INIMICAL CO-EXISTENCE
by M B Naqvi
The prize for becoming friends is progressive
enrichment of common people in both the countries.
Optimists' hopes will soar: foreign secretaries
of India and Pakistan have met in a 'good
atmosphere'; another round of Composite Dialogue
will go forward. No breakthrough has been made in
finding a solution to any of the problems thrown
into the foreign secretaries' basket of course.
But the promise of a joint mechanism to fight
terrorism is going to be built. There is a
promise of some more Confidence Building Measures
(CBM) to be agreed upon. That is about all.
For realists, there was no basis for hoping that
the two nuclear powers are going to bury the past
and at least cease being each other's designated
enemy. Indeed, that is not even being discussed.
There is no thought of reconciling with each
other and building a progressive friendship
between them. What the two foreign secretaries
are engaged in is writing ground rules for two
inimical powers to co-exist peacefully.
The two will remain unfriendly powers vis-à-vis
each other; only, they will not hopefully remain
on hair-trigger alert where nukes are concerned.
Will the CBMs ensure a certain amount of maturity
of not firing off the nuclear-tipped missile(s)
on the first rumour of the enemy's launch? The
plain answer is no. There will be no time to
think or verify or talk to one's counterpart on
phones. The enemy missile will take four to five
minutes to hit its target. No government or
Command Control System can be mature enough to
sift a rumour, a malfunctioning radar or even a
big bird in the given time.
Pakistan wanted the resolution of the disputes
between the two countries as the master CBM.
Common sense accepts the proposition. But common
sense is not welcome when national security
experts are in discussion. Existence of disputes
over territory or water generally define stable
non-friendly relationships between neighbouring
states; without disputes the animosities cannot
endure for long.
Political and economic dynamics of the inimical
relations between India and Pakistan has given
birth to pressure groups that over time have
become vested interests. Modern armed forces
require a lot of high-tech equipment that is
extremely expensive. Exporters of such hardware
are prepared to offer attractive kickbacks, going
in some cases to 12-14 per cent of total cost.
Kickbacks are the main for ultimate
decision-makers.
But modern procedures - committees that examine
general characteristics of what or which
equipment to import, technical committees and
bureaucrats who assess various proposals etc -
means a crowd of civil and military officers and
politicians who have to be kept in good humour
through kickbacks or other benefits.
Hardware producers spend a lot of money on PR
through their local representatives. Parties
thrown by indenters of military equipment are the
most riotous. Hundreds of millions of dollars are
thus spent for each major contract. Recipients
are also many, among whom may be some writers or
journalists.
This gentry is important and claims to be more
patriotic than most others. Their incomes,
importance and influence depend on the constant
growth, in numbers and equipment upgradation, of
the military establishment.
Their politics is based on their economic and
social interests. They habitually take a hardline
and advocate ever greater militarisation for
their country. As it happens even greater
militarisation requires a credible enemy.
Pakistan and India are the most credible enemies
to each other. Hence, a non-stop arms race in all
departments of military preparedness has gone on
that provides income and satisfaction to local
versions of industrial-military complexes.
An example is ready at hand. A week ago Pakistan
FM Kasuri said that the two countries are quite
close to resolving the Siachin dispute. Indian
security wallahs mobilised their heaviest guns
and have in effect told Premier Manmohan Singh
not to resolve this dispute in a manner that is
against India's national interests. Serving
generals have pitched in to virtually oppose a
solution except on maximalist terms.
What is surprising is that serving generals are
advising in public their Prime Minister not to do
this or that which normally is no business of
theirs. How come they even visualise their PM
doing something against national interests? No
other case of the kind seems to have happened in
India before. Could it be that the disease that
Pakistan Army contracted is beginning to afflict
Indian military too?
Relations between India and Pakistan cannot long
remain like those of two distant powers; they
have far too much in common: languages,
religions, races, cultures, history and sources
of water. There is a choice before the leadership
of the two countries: they can either remain
enemies - with frequent wars as a likelihood that
will tend to become nuclear - or to overcome the
resistance of ultra patriots and consciously seek
to become friends from the present ambivalent
condition.
The prize for becoming friends that cooperate is
progressive enrichment of common people in both
the countries, while the cost of continued
hostility will be poverty and the vulnerability
of being nuked. Let a clear-headed choice be made.
_____
[2]
http://membres.lycos.fr/sacw/article.php3?id_article=34
(Dawn
November 19, 2006)
CAUGHT IN THE MIDDLE
A FIRST-HAND ACCOUNT OF OPERATION RECOVERY AND
THE CAMPS SET UP IN PAKISTAN AND INDIA FOR WOMEN
AND CHILDREN ABDUCTED DURING THE PARTITION RIOTS
Kamla Patel describes the chaos of Partition and
the plight of people torn between two countries
Miyanwali District in Pakistan is the last
district of Punjab, right on the border. It was
relatively difficult to make arrangements for the
recovery of women in this district. Even before
Partition, abduction of women often took place
there. Keeping in mind the local conditions, an
elderly, khadi-clad woman social worker was sent
there for this purpose. But despite her
enthusiasm and ability, the work could not be
carried out satisfactorily. Lists of abducted
women were given to the police. In most cases,
the word 'non-traceable' was written against the
names and the lists returned. Although we knew
that the police were avoiding their duty, there
was nothing one could do to amend their ways. As
a result, the social worker felt she was wasting
her time and began a fast.
The Indian army unit posted at Miyanwali informed
me of this by a wireless message. I did not think
it was proper to fast in dealing with the police
of a foreign country. I called up Mridulaben in
Delhi and sought her advice. She consulted the
high ranking officers of this department, as also
Rameshwari Nehru, the president of the committee,
and returned my call within an hour, asking me to
go to Miyanwali and persuade this lady to give up
her fast. I was also asked to discuss how to
proceed with our work with the local officials
there. With an army officer, I left for Miyanwali
early next morning. It was evening by the time I
arrived there. With a great deal of effort I made
"Mataji" take some food. It was the third day of
her fast. I suggested that she should come back
with me to Lahore for a while, and she agreed to
do so.
The next day, the local police officers arranged
a meeting, at which we discussed how to carry on
our work. As we were about to part, one police
officer suggested that I should go with him to
see the places around that area and I gladly
accepted. Before Partition, this officer had
often visited Mumbai to see his relatives there
and we talked of this on the way. While
returning, he stopped his vehicle at a well and
said, "Innumerable Hindu women of this area
jumped into this 'sinful' well to save their
honour. The whole well was full of the dead
bodies of such women. You have come all this way
from a far away place like Mumbai to recover
abducted women, running such risks, whereas we
were unable to protect the sisters and daughters
of our own town. Not only that, but we have been
tainted in a way which can never be cleansed of
the sin of abducting the sisters and daughters of
our town. What evil impressions will we leave
behind in history!"
In telling me this, his voice became choked and
his eyes were full of tears. I caught a glimpse
of a sensitive soul behind a police officer's
uniform. At first, I thought that he must be a
refugee from UP or Bihar, and hence he was so
sympathetic towards Hindus. However, during our
conversation, I learnt that he belonged to
Punjab. He had not suffered any personal loss at
the time of Partition, but in the village where
he had grown up, most of his childhood friends
were Hindus. At great personal risk he had taken
many of them and helped them go across the border
to the camps there. He had kept in safe custody
many of the valuables belonging to these Hindus,
so that he could return them to their rightful
owners. He told me that after most of his friends
had left, although he was living amongst his own
people, he felt a sense of loneliness.
No one knew whether his real mother was still
alive ... No one even knew her full name. Where
should one look for her? And what would be the
plight of this child if she could not be traced?
In the course of my work, I came across many
officers and social workers. Some of their
personalities left a brief impression on my mind,
which was soon erased. While the impression made
by some others lasted a long time. Amongst all
these persons, this officer whom I happened to
meet only once - the sorrowful expression on his
face is etched on my mind after the lapse of such
a long period of time.
While returning from Miyanwali, we stopped at
Sargodha and spent so much time in discussing the
arrangements with the authorities of the camp
that I was forced to spend the night there, and
decided to leave in the morning. The next day,
the Pakistani police brought a young boy, three
or four years old to our camp. The child was
overawed, and he had been crying so much that his
eyes were swollen and he could hardly speak. We
put toys before him and offered him sweets, but
despite this he did not stop crying. He just
nodded his head in reply to each question. All of
us decided that I should take him with me to the
Lahore camp. As there were other small children
there, he might easily get along with them and
play. After a few hours, I left for Lahore taking
the little boy with me. After getting into the
car, for a few moments he was happy, but then
again he reverted to his former state. During the
eight-hour car journey, he just kept crying, and
when he was tired of crying, he fell asleep for a
while, but as soon as he woke up, he began crying
again.
On returning to the camp, I asked the lady in
charge to look after the boy. But as I was
involved in other work, I forgot all about him.
After about three days, the lady in charge told
me that she felt that this boy was a Muslim.
"He says his name is Latif. However, he does not
know his parents' names. He does play with other
children, but somehow in his pattern of behaviour
or in the way he acts and talks, there are no
signs of his being a Hindu child."
Since the Pakistani police had brought him over,
there was no possibility of such a mistake.
Nevertheless, we decided that we should be in no
hurry to send him to Jalandhar.
After a few days his so-called grandparents came
over, and we called Latif to meet them. Latif
embraced his grandmother. All three of them had
tears in their eyes. The grandfather said, "Latif
is the son of our daughter. His mother died when
he was very small, and since then he has been
living with us. No one knows the whereabouts of
his father. After the death of his mother, his
father has not even once come to see him. Our
daughter was our only child, and we are passing
our days in bringing up her son."
We felt that the grandfather was telling the
truth. But the child having once come to our
camp, we could not entrust him to his
grandparents without the permission of the
Pakistani police. I explained this to his
grandparents, and told them that we could not
send him back with them. His case would have to
be presented before the tribunal. And "if the
tribunal is convinced that this boy belongs to
you, they will hand him over to you."
The boy's grandmother requested me to allow her
to stay in the camp, but I could not agree, as
this was against the rules. They stayed somewhere
else in Lahore, and until the next tribunal came
to visit Latif every day.
The grandparents were present when the tribunal
met. The police officers of both the countries
were not convinced by what they told them.
Latif's name was not in the Indian list but the
police in Sargodha had, on their own, brought
this boy over. Both members of the tribunal felt
that the police could not make such a mistake.
The tribunal postponed its decision on this case,
and decided to call the Sargodha police at the
next sitting.
The police officers of Sargodha were present at
the next meeting. We were all taken aback at the
facts they disclosed. Latif's grandparents were
called to give their testimony, and they were
unable to stand up to the questioning of the
tribunal. Finally, they had to come out with the
true facts. According to the grandfather's
statement, they had only one child - a daughter.
Even after many years of marriage, she was
childless. A neighbour, a Hindu artisan, had
three children. The old man's daughter used to
look after the neighbour's youngest child right
from his infancy and showered affection on him as
if he was her own son. Latif was both handsome
and healthy. When he was hardly two years old,
his father died. It fell upon the widowed mother
to look after and bring up three children. Little
Latif stayed more and more with his foster
mother, and the latter took on all the
responsibility of bringing him up. When riots
broke out in Punjab, people of the minority
community began running hither and thither
seeking safety. Latif's mother also began to make
arrangements to go away to a Hindu refugee camp
with her neighbours. Before leaving, she told the
Muslim neighbour's family that she would like to
leave Latif with them. "You have brought him up,
and he has become a part of your family. I have
no idea where I shall go with little children and
what will be our condition. If we can settle down
somewhere, I shall come over to fetch Latif, and
I am quite confident that if I cannot come to
fetch him, you will bring him up as your own
child."
She left after a couple of days. There was no way
in which they could get any news about her. Latif
never missed his mother, and was happily growing
up. Since infancy, he regarded his foster mother
as his own mother. It was difficult not to
believe that ever since his birth, a queer turn
of fate awaited him. After about six months their
daughter, his foster mother, brought him to visit
them. There she fell ill with pneumonia and died.
At the time of her death, she entrusted Latif to
her parents and said, "Please regard Latif as my
own son and give to him whatever belongs to me as
well as whatever property or wealth you own. This
is my last wish."
The grandparents showered the child with
affection and brought him up according to their
daughter's dying wishes, and with time their love
for the child grew. They were so engrossed in
bringing up Latif, that it compensated for the
loss of their own daughter. The old man had a
house and some land. He tilled the soil with his
own hands and they lived off the produce of their
land. However, Latif was an eyesore for the old
man's brother and nephews. They realised the
possibility of Latif inheriting what could have
been theirs. However, there was nothing they
could do about it. When the recovery of abducted
women and children began, they seized the
opportunity of getting rid of Latif for good.
They informed the nearest police station that
Latif was a Hindu child; and they must have done
everything they possibly could to convince the
police that this Kafir child should be sent
across to India at the earliest opportunity. And
that is how the police brought Latif over to our
camp.
For the tribunal, this was an absolutely clear
case. As Latif was a Hindu, he should be sent to
India. There was no need to give any further
thought to the matter. Latif's so-called
grandparents' entreating eyes were staring at me.
Latif was sitting in his grandmother's lap, with
his arms around her neck. I wondered if we had
any right to deny him this comfort and safety? No
one knew whether his real mother was still alive,
and if so where she was now? No one even knew her
full name. Where should one look for her? And
what would be the plight of this child if she
could not be traced? Tears filled my eyes at the
thought of the kind of upbringing he would have
at the camp, devoid of love and care. I requested
the tribunal to postpone their verdict on this
case to the following day, but the tribunal was
hardly going to give in to my request. As it had
been proved that Latif was a Hindu boy, there was
no compelling reason for the decision to be
postponed until the following day. Having clearly
read the expression on my face, one of the
members of the tribunal gently told me in
English, "Do not get carried away by emotions.
Our decisions have to be taken keeping in mind
the rules that have been framed by way of an
understanding between the two countries".
I kept control over myself with much difficulty
and said, "That may well be so, but no rule would
be violated if the verdict in this case is not
given today".
The tribunal finally accepted my request, and
took up other matters. I could not pay any
attention to them. My mind was in a state of
utter commotion. Why should I be a party to this
decision whereby an innocent child was being
uprooted from the possibility of a secure life
that had been destined for him - and dispatched
to an uncertain dark future of life in a camp?
His mother had entrusted the child to this family
after much thought and care. He had neither been
snatched away from anyone, nor had he been
abducted by force. Neither I, nor anyone else,
had the right to snatch away someone who had been
carefully entrusted to a deserving family.
Excerpted with permission from
Torn from the Roots: A Partition Memoir
By Kamla Patel
Translated by Uma Randeria
Women Unlimited, K-36, Hauz Khas Enclave,
Ground Floor, New Delhi 110 016, India
ISBN 81-88965-27-8
236pp. Indian Rs350
Kamla Patel (1912-1992) was a participant in
Gandhi's civil disobedience movement and
constructive programme. After 1947, she was
invited by Mridula Sarabhai to join the
Organisation for Recovery of Abducted Women
Uma Randeria, one of the translators of The
Collected Works of Mahatma Gandhi from Gujarati
into English, has translated several short-story
collections from Russian and Bengali into Gujarati
_____
[3]
The News International
Nov 3, 2006
THE INDIAN LEFT'S TIGHTROPE ACT
by Praful Bidwai
The writer, a former newspaper editor, is a
researcher and peace and human-rights activist
based in Delhi
As foreign secretary-level talks between India
and Pakistan approach, a remarkably hawkish lobby
is emerging in India which opposes any
reconciliation between the two governments. This
vocal lobby, consisting of former Indian high
commissioners to Pakistan (G Parthasarathy and
Satish Chandra) and intelligence chiefs (B Raman
and A K Doval) would like to hold up progress in
bilateral relations until Islamabad delivers on
its "anti-terrorism" commitment to the hawks'
satisfaction. It blames Pakistani agencies for
the recent terrorist attacks in India.
The Bharatiya Janata Party is backing this lobby
increasingly overtly. Even yesterday's Hindutva
doves like Atal Behari Vajpayee have joined the
hawkish chorus.
Besides the civil society-based peace movement,
the only resolute and consistent opposition to
the hawks comes from the organised Indian Left,
comprising the Communist Party of India
(Marxist), the Communist Party of India, the
Revolutionary Socialist Party and the Forward
Block.
It is important to understand the Left's
positions and its dilemmas in dealing with the
ruling United Progressive Alliance which it
supports from the outside.
The Left is unhappy that the UPA has not
fulfilled the promises of its own National Common
Minimum Programme. The NCMP promised to "pursue
an independent foreign policy and promote
[global] multipolarity." But it has tailed the
United States and supported unipolarity. Its
economic and social policies also seriously
deviate from the NCMP's promise of egalitarian
development and re-assertion of secularism.
The UPA won the 2004 elections because the public
was disgusted with the BJP's sectarian and
communally divisive politics--revealed starkly in
the Gujarat carnage of 2002. The electorate also
felt insulted at the ludicrous "India Shining"
campaign.
Yet, the UPA hasn't implemented its mandate.
Prime Minister Manmohan Singh hasn't even once
reiterated the UPA's commitment to secure justice
for the Gujarat victims, tens of thousands of
whom remain refugees in their own land. The UPA
has passively watched Narendra Milosevic Modi's
sabotage of the criminal justice process in
Gujarat. Barring the National Rural Employment
Guarantee and Right to Information Acts, the
Alliance hasn't imparted substance to its social
and economic promises. (Even on the RTI, it's
dragging its feet.) The UPA's overall economic
policy isn't sharply distinguishable from the
BJP's.
This highlights the Left parties' predicament.
They have acquired unprecedented relevance. In
Parliament, they have grown to the highest-ever
figure of 61 MPs. They are acknowledged even by
conservative politicians as the UPA's
"conscience-keepers".
Yet, their well-considered pleas on food
security, labour laws, urban planning, and the
rights to education and healthcare are ignored.
The UPA's policies on rehabilitation, affirmative
action, tribal rights, etc. differ sharply from
theirs.
Nevertheless, the Left cannot withdraw support to
the UPA and risk the BJP's return. It must
perform a tightrope walk and continually mount
pressure on the UPA through dialogue, advocacy,
lobbying and protests. This difficult exercise
also carries an additional cost--subordinating
the Left's core concerns, programmes and
organisational priorities to the task of keeping
the BJP out of power.
It's therefore appropriate that the CPI and the
CPI (M) are undertaking "serious introspection"
on their functioning and internal structures.
Such reflection is indispensable if the Left is
to preserve its distinctive political identity.
The Left, despite its weaknesses, has played a
uniquely worthy and irreplaceable role in
India--as the voice of the underprivileged, as a
force for democratisation and for extension of
freedom, and as a repository of progressive
ideas. If the Left didn't exist, we would have to
invent it! Three questions demand the Left's
serious reflection. Is it setting an example of
good governance in West Bengal and Kerala, which
is worthy of emulation? How can it achieve a
major objective it set itself decades
ago--namely, build/rebuild a base in the Hindi
belt? And what's its strategy for expanding its
political reach and inducting new cadres?
The first question calls for candid answers. In
West Bengal, the Left is drifting Rightwards. It
has revived the state's long-stagnant
economy--but at an onerous cost to its own
integrity and its image among the
underprivileged. As Chief Minister Buddhadeb
Bhattacharjee said in July, he's essentially
following a "capitalist model."
This model is based upon accumulation by
dispossession and impoverishment of the poor,
through cleansing cities of slumdwellers and
creating special economic zones with tax-breaks
or dilution of labour laws.
Although the Left's base in Bengal has widened,
it's shifting. An April 2006 poll showed a five
per cent adverse swing in its support among the
poor, and a 17 to 18 per cent gain among the rich.
Kerala is different. There, the Left parties have
recovered their base among the poor and religious
minorities. They even defeated the Muslim League
in Muslim-dominated Malappuram. The Kerala
problem is essentially internal to the CPI (M): a
rift between the V S Achuthanandan and Pinarayi
Vijayan factions. Achuthanandan's elevation as
CM, albeit without control over portfolios like
Home, has left his rivals fuming--and plotting.
The factionalism extends to governmental
decision-making too.
Take the Hindi belt. The CPI was once formidably
strong in Bihar and in central and eastern Uttar
Pradesh. But it suffered massive haemorrhage in
Bihar. In UP, its entire unit was swallowed by
the Samajwadi Party. The CPI is slowly rebuilding
its base in these states.
The CPI (M) has had no major Hindi-speaking base,
but is seeking small gains through temporary
alliances with Centrist leaders. This brings it
into a clash with the CPI. The two shouldn't
drift apart; they should move towards
unification. Their original programmatic
differences have become irrelevant. They share
each other's theoretical understanding, doctrine
and practice.
The Left does face an uphill task in the Hindi
belt given the hardening of caste politics,
especially in UP. It cannot possibly relate to
caste like other parties, without abandoning its
distinctive class-oriented approach. The Left
must also develop a credible strategy of
self-rejuvenation and expansion. As of now, the
CPI (M) has 9.5 lakh members and the CPI nearly 6
lakhs. Their membership has grown by 8 to 10 per
cent over the past two years.
This is impressive when seen against the decline
of Communist parties the world over after the
collapse of the Soviet Union. It speaks to the
Indian CPs' resilience. After stagnation between
the mid-1990s and 2002, the CPI has made
impressive membership gains, especially in Kerala
and Bengal. But 18 per cent of its members don't
renew their membership. The CPI (M) too suffers
from significant non-renewal, especially in Tamil
Nadu and Kerala.
The primary reason why the Left parties have not
grown more rapidly in the Hindi belt despite
agrarian distress, unemployment and frustration
among the youth is their "image burden". They're
seen as belonging to a long-bygone era of statism
and public sector unions.
This image must be corrected. The Left must
reassert its relevance in contemporary terms--as
a force immersed in a democratic culture, with
one of the longest international histories of
working a parliamentary system.
The Left parties must develop innovative
solutions to today's problems by putting
flesh-and-blood people before capital. They must
formulate alternatives in health, education,
housing, water and electricity supply, and in
macroeconomic policy. Only thus can they
implement their agendas of secularism, justice
and social cohesion and contribute to
India-Pakistan reconciliation.
_____
[4]
The New Statesman
27th November 2006
SHAZIA'S WEEK
Shazia Mirza
Monday
To India in the luggage hold, to do a sex-free
show in a democracy that is not what it might seem
More from this section [Columns]
This week I flew to India. The British Council
does not have much money, and flew me in economy
on Air India - the equivalent of the luggage hold
on easyJet. The only consolation is that the Air
India stewards can string a sentence together and
do not have orange faces.
These days my mum worries about me flying. She
encourages me to fly by Pakistan International
Airlines or Emirates because, as she puts it:
"They're not going to blow up their own." At the
airport the security was as tight as at Tesco. I
followed Indians who had been on holiday in
England. They were carrying large tins of Quality
Street. I find it endearing when other cultures
aspire to everything that is British, and assume
that because something is British it must be
good. Even Spam and Milton Keynes.
In the reception of my hotel, there were TV
screens showing Bollywood movies - scantily clad
Indian women in shorts and bras, dancing around
trees, with hairy men groping them in the wind.
How liberal and open-minded India seemed. But it
dawned on me that India had never come across
stand-up comedy before. They had slapstick but
stand-up, as we know it, was unknown to them. I
wasn't worried because I've performed in Germany
where people's sense of humour is still in
development.
I did a photo shoot for Elle by the hotel's
magnificently sized pool. I said it would be nice
to go for a swim later, but was told that was
"only for white women from abroad". Asian women
did not expose themselves in public. But hadn't I
just seen a half-naked woman on MTV being groped
by Shahrukh Khan? This was an omen of double
standards to come.
My first show was in Café Mocha, Mumbai. My
backstage area was a 500-degrees open kitchen
with chapattis flying across the room. There were
1,000 people in a 200-seater venue. People were
hanging from windows, sitting on top of each
other on the floor. They laughed at everything
except sex. When I mentioned the word vagina (I
was discussing The Vagina Monologues), the men
looked disgusted and the women gasped, and then
laughed like drains. Any reference to sex - and
believe me there weren't many - was met with
embarrassment. I was annoyed, so I said: "I don't
know why there seems to be this reaction every
time I mention sex. Your overpopulation is not
due to the Immaculate Conception and you are
doing it more than anyone else in the world."
That night the British Council called me to say
that the café in Pune where I was performing the
next night was threatening to cancel. "They are
scared people will get upset and they will lose
their licence." The council's director said he
wouldn't be surprised if the moral police came to
arrest me. This was equivalent to Lenny Bruce in
the early 1960s. I have never had this problem
before, not even in Bradford.
I was asked to "tone down" my show by removing
the words "vagina" and "sex". I have never been
asked to do this before. I was also asked to
remove my section on "death threats". I refused,
but agreed to "tone it down". Lastly, I was told
to go on stage before my show in Pune and make a
"disclaimer", which would go as follows: "I have
been told by the management of Mocha Café to tell
you - the audience - that anything I say tonight
is my own view, about my own subject matter, and
any offence caused has nothing to do with Mocha
Café."
The audience laughed hysterically when I said: "I
have never been asked to apologise for something
that I have not yet said or done, or any offence
not yet caused before a show." India is a
democracy, but not a liberal democracy. Any kind
of repression evokes extremes of behaviour and
that's why words such as vagina and sex are
forbidden. India is not ready for this yet. I
can't wait till Puppetry of the Penis tours India.
_____
[5]
The Economist
Nov 9th 2006
GOODBYE, BANGALORE
THE PAIN OF PARTING WITH THE FAMILIAR
WELCOME to Bengalooru, garden city of India,
capital of Karnataka state; city of exotic
temples, of Haider Ali and his son, the "Tiger of
Mysore"; city of software, technology parks,
cyber cafés and globalisation at its most
glamorous; city, above all, of cooked beans. And,
at the same time, goodbye Bangalore, boring
colonial cantonment whose name failed to honour
the kind old woman who plumped up a hungry
14th-century king with a small bean feast.
Following the examples of Bombay, Madras and
Calcutta, Bangalore has rebranded itself, taking
the local name for "city of cooked beans".
Will it catch on? Yes, in the end it probably
will, just as Mumbai, Chennai and Kolkata are
slowly taking hold. Sign-writers and printers
will be glad of the new business, politicians
will claim a blow against British cultural
enslavement and a victory for authenticity
(though that story about the old woman and the
king may be tosh), but many others will give a
weary sigh. So many places change their names,
and so often.
They have every right to do so, of course, and it
seems discourteous not to use their new names if
they expressly ask you to. That is why The
Economist adopts Myanmar, Côte d'Ivoire,
Kyrgyzstan, Timor-Leste and now Bengalooru (see
article) too. But it rankles, for several reasons.
First, the changes, which are nearly always
politically inspired, often seem to annoy the
locals as much as anyone else. Many Indians,
surprised to be told their place names were
inappropriate, still talk about Bombay and
Calcutta as though nothing had changed. The
people of St Petersburg have had to endure first
Petrograd and then Leningrad before reclaiming
their city's pre-1914 name. The Congolese were
startled one day to be told that their country,
its main river and the currency would all be
called Zaire. After 26 years they got their old
name back. Something similar happened in
Cambodia, when the ghastly Khmers Rouges imposed
Kampuchea.
Some of these new names do not seem very
authentic, or even very new: Côte d'Ivoire is
just the French for Ivory Coast and Timor-Leste
the Portuguese for East Timor. Beijing is merely
a rendering of the Mandarin pronunciation of
Peking, just as Guangzhou is the Mandarin for
Canton, though it might be more correct, if
localism is all, to call it by its Cantonese
name. Kamptee, a town in central India that some
root-seekers call by its "aboriginal" name
Kamthi, is actually named after Camp T, set up by
the East India Company. Zaire was not an African
name but a Portuguese corruption of one.
Still, some changes have logic on their side-Lake
Nyasa, which to the locals meant Lake Lake, is
more sensibly now called Lake Malawi-and others
have long since ceased to jar. To insist on
calling Thailand Siam, Sri Lanka Ceylon or Zambia
Northern Rhodesia would be eccentric. This is
another argument for using the names that
governments request, even if those governments
are not democratic. America resists Myanmar,
which has not been approved "by any sitting
legislature in Burma", but is apparently
untroubled by Beijing or Belarus.
The whiff of outsaucing
Yet many languages have their own words for
foreign places, words resonant with associations
of travel, history or romance. It seems a pity to
lose them. Wasn't Sir John Moore buried after
Corunna, not A (or La) Coruña? Weren't Rose
Macaulay's towers in Trebizond, not Trabzon?
Should the Lady with the Lamp really have been
christened Firenze Nightingale? Was Chamberlain
shamed at München? After eating chicken à la
Kyiv? And even if you pronounce it My-yorker,
isn't the island Majorca, not Mallorca?
Only English-speakers, it seems, are expected to
kowtow to name-changers' whims. No one berates
the French for Pékin, Le Caire and Edimbourg, the
Italians for Ucraina, Città del Messico and
Pechino, or the Germans for Kapstadt, Singapur
and Temeschburg. Dear Name-Changer, feel free to
adopt any moniker you fancy, but do not hector
others if they jib. A city of beans by any other
name will smell as sweet, or beany.
_____
[6]
To
The Chairperson
National Human Rights Commission,Faridkot House, Copernicus Marg,
New Delhi
Sub: Complaint against the illegal detention and torture of Afzal
Khan, a correspondent of HindSat News paper based in Bhopalpatnam,
District Dantewada on 15 November 2006
Dear Sir
I am writing to seek immidate interntion of National Human
Rights Commission against the illegal detention and torture of Afzal
Khan, a correspondent of HindSat News paper based in Bhopalpatnam,
District Dantewada on 15 November 2006.
According to Afzal on the evening of 15th November Salwa Judum
reached Bhopalpatnam. He with his brother Zahir Khan ( reporter
Jansatta) and few more reporters were called by leaders of Salwa
Judum including Budhram Rana and Hanif Khan. Salwa Judum leaders
accused them of helping the Sarpanchs who went to Raipur few days
back to request Govt to stop Salwa Judum entering their area.Afzal
told the leaders that they should check with the Sarpanchs when they
are back whether they helped them to go to Raipur or not. After that
they were asked to go after threatening "not to repeat same
acts".After sometime Afzal was called again. This time he was asked
to witness the Putla Dahan ( effigy burning) of anti Salwa Judum
leaders. During this function he was again asked similar questions
by the SPOs and blamed for writing anti Salwa Judum news. Afzal told
them that "today is the first day of Salwa Judum in Bhopalpatnam
area, so how come I may be writing against Salwa Judum ?The reports
about our representatives not wanting Salwa Judum was written by
reporters from Raipur".But SPOs were not happy with the reply and
Afzal was taken inside a room and was badly beaten up. In the
process he has fractured two of his fingers.Afzal is frightened to
go to file an FIR. " They have threatened to kill my entire family
if I complain against them", Afzal told.
Afzal also told that "Patel of Gullaguda was beaten up badly when he
went to save a girl from his village being molested by Salwa Judum.
He has got 11 stiches but police has refused to file his complaint".
Afzal could not recount the Patel's name."Deputy Sarpanch of
Tamlapalli Saddu and Hingaram of Gullapeta were also beaten up by
Salwa Judum and police have refused to file their FIRs too". Afzal
says "Kotwars from all the villages from this area were beaten up
that day. The Salwa Judum members ate our chicken and goats and
rampaged the whole area".
While talking to FFDA, Afzal told that he has also injury on his
head, and he has been threatened not to file any report with police
and/or any where.In this context,I would like to request you to
intervene and take following measures:
* Direct the State government of Chhattisgarh to make an independent
inquiry and report NHRC within four weeks time;
* Direct the State government of Chhattisgarh to bring the
perpetrators into the court of law;
* Direct the State government of Chhattisgarh to prevent such attack
on journalists and other fact-finders on Salw Judum;
*Direct the Sate government of Chhattisgarh to pay interim
compensation of INR 500000/- (five lakh) and immediate medical
expenses; and
* Take anyother measures that NHRC deems fit.
With kind regards
Sincerely
Subash Mohapatra
Forum for Fact-finding Documentation and Advocacy
MIG-22, Sahayog Park
(In Front of Back Gate of Prem Park),
Mahaveer Nagar, P.O.:Ravigram, Raipur, Chhattisgarh 492 006, India
_____
[7]
Concordia Journal
November 9 , 2006 | Vol. 2, No. 5
LETTING SILENCE SPEAK
Karen Herland
Jill Didur (English) with her new publication.
In 1947, British colonialism ended in South East
Asia and over 12 million people moved to and from
the area, eventually settling into the modern
nation-states of Pakistan and India, and what
later became Bangladesh.
The violence and upheaval of Partition, as these
events have come to be known, included the
abduction and sexual assault of 75,000 women,
and, in some cases, their subsequent reunion with
their families. This aspect of Partition is often
absent from official accounts of the period.
Historians have recently attempted to "recover"
this chapter of history by using fictional
narratives about the events.
In Unsettling Partition: Literature, Gender and
Memory, Jill Didur (English) turns her attention
to the silence around those events and recent
efforts to fill in its gaps through the study of
literature and testimony reflecting on the
upheaval that took place. Didur "unsettles" this
direct reading of fiction and testimony as fact.
"Some researchers seem to treat narratives about
these experiences as a kind of substitute record
of the period without taking into account the way
language, social context and genre have shaped
how these things are narrated," Didur said in a
recent email interview.
Unsettling Partition examines several fictional
accounts and their "recovery" and interpretation,
in order to redirect the discussion "away from a
kind of blunt sociological reading of this
material toward its literary qualities, which are
equally politicized."
In so doing, Didur inserts the question of
gender. She argues that the silence can be read
as a refusal of the view of women "as
repositories of community and national identity
[at the time of Partition, which] may have played
into the targeting of women for violence." Didur
conceded that this is not necessarily a popular
interpretation.
Her research project began with an interest in
transnational and postcolonial culture that was
supported by her participation in a
cross-cultural exchange project in India before
she began her graduate work at York University.
At York, she found an interdisciplinary approach
that reinforced her own interest in theory,
literature and cultural studies.
She began the work at Jawaharlal Nehru University
in Delhi through a Shastri research fellowship
just prior to the fiftieth anniversary of India's
independence. It was an excellent opportunity to
consider the way the events in question were
interpreted and retold. Unsettling Partition,
published this year, enters a growing dialogue
with creative writers, filmmakers and historians.
Didur has also considered how translation has
impacted the narratives. English is considered a
default "link language" between various languages
of the region. However, in one chapter, she
explores how different translations of the short
story "Lajwanti" present varying interpretations
of the title character's behaviour.
"It became clear to me that translations were
adding another historical layer to how Partition
history and memory were being commemorated."
Didur, who came to Concordia in 1998, is on
maternity leave. She has SHRCC and FQRSC funding
to study contemporary South Asian writers and
filmmakers and how the concept of Indian identity
and secular discourse is constituted in the wake
of Partition.
_____
[8] Upcoming Events
(i)
Prithvi Theatre Festival in partnership with the
Delhi Film Archive and Max Mueller Bhavan
presents an array of Theatre films...
at the:
Max Mueller Bhavan, 3 Kasturba Gandhi Marg, New Delhi
On 25th & 26th November 2006
ENTRY FREE, NO PASSES NEEDED
for the Delhi Film Archive
Rahul Roy / Kavita Joshi
_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/
Buzz on the perils of fundamentalist politics, on
matters of peace and democratisation in South
Asia. SACW is an independent & non-profit
citizens wire service run since 1998 by South
Asia Citizens Web: www.sacw.net/
SACW archive is available at: bridget.jatol.com/pipermail/sacw_insaf.net/
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