SACW | June 9-10, 2008 / War / School Bombings / Identity politics / Sexuality Minorities / National Culture(s) / Archeology / Freedom of Expressions / Scientific Temper

[Harsh Kapoor]

South Asia Citizens Wire | June 9-10 , 2008 | 
Dispatch No. 2521 - Year 10 running

[1]  Sri Lanka: Safeguarding Civilians Is Primary 
Calling of Both Parties (National Peace Council)
[2]  Pakistan:
     (i) Pakistan: School Bombings Force Girls to Drop Out (Ashfaq Yusufzai)
     (ii) The Lawyers's Crusade (James Traub)
[3] Nepal: Full citizens - Sexual minorities are 
moving towards recognition (Wong Shu Yun)
[4] India: Long-term dangers that lurk behind the 
gains made by the BJP in Karnataka (EPW)
[5] India: Maharashtra dresses up as Shivaji: 
Politics of Identity and Intolerance (Ram 
Puniyani)
[6] India: National policy does not imply national culture (Shyam Benegal)
[7] India: Scientific Temper, Anyone ?
    - God save Indian science
    - For Indian scientists, no conflict with God (Seema Singh)
[8] Notices / announcements:
    (i) Pakistani Archaeology Faces Issues Old and 
New by Andrew Lawler (in: Science 6 June 2008)
    (ii) demonstration for Freedom of Expression 
and Speech (Bombay, 10 June, 2008)
   (iii) The Nigah QueerFest '08 (Delhi,  8 -17 August 2008)

______


[1] National Peace Council of Sri Lanka
12/14 Purana Vihara Road
Colombo 6
Tel:  2818344, 2854127, 2819064
Tel/Fax:2819064
Internet:  www.peace-srilanka.org


09.06.08

Media Release

SAFEGUARDING CIVILIANS IS PRIMARY CALLING OF BOTH PARTIES

In recent days the region around Colombo has been 
subjected to bomb attacks suspected to be by the 
LTTE against civilian targets. The most recent 
was the claymore mine that targeted a bus on 
Friday in Moratuwa which killed at least 22 
persons and injured over 70. This attack 
represented a step up in the technology utilized, 
as the bomb was set off by remote controlled 
means. The previous bomb attacks on civilian 
targets in the Colombo region, such as the bus 
bomb in Piliyandala and train bomb in Dehiwela 
were by bombs left on board. The National Peace 
Council condemns these dastardly attacks and 
along with all right thinking people demands 
their immediate cessation.

There has been a sense of shock and outrage among 
the general public at this spate of bombings as 
well as a sense of helplessness. Guarding against 
bags and parcels being left in crowded public 
buses and trains and against claymore mines 
placed on the side of the road is going to be 
very difficult. Colombo remains an open city, 
with a multi ethnic and diverse population, 
representing what Sri Lanka is struggling to 
remain and to be.  The National Peace Council 
welcomes statements by government leaders who 
appealed to the people to remain calm and to be 
law abiding. We also welcome the immediate 
declaration of a police curfew in the area of the 
incident to maintain law and order.  More public 
education on prevention and early detection and 
swift action on warnings are also needed.

The National Peace Council is also concerned 
about reports of claymore mine explosions that 
have taken the lives of civilians in the LTTE 
controlled areas. Like in the case of the attacks 
in Moratuwa and earlier in Kebetigollewa, these 
have been remotely detonated and targeted against 
civilians. In the past three weeks, at least 
three such attacks have been reported in the 
Wanni. The LTTE has claimed that these attacks 
have been done by the Deep Penetration Units of 
the government, which the government has denied. 
In the absence of opportunities for independent 
verification it is impossible to know the ground 
realities.

The National Peace Council has constantly stood 
by the belief that peace needs to be built by 
peaceful means and not by war.There is experience 
from other countries to show that in situations 
of escalation and reprisal, if one of the parties 
foreseeing the disaster that is to befall both, 
decides to de-escalate, and is met by a 
cooperative response, the vicious cycle of 
escalation can be reversed. NPC calls on the 
government, which is responsible for protecting 
civilian life all over the country, to consider 
modes of de-escalating the conflict to save 
civilian lives. As a first step it could obtain 
the services of trusted intermediaries, either 
local or international, to communicate with the 
LTTE its desire to safeguard civilian life in all 
parts of the country, including the Wanni. We 
also appeal to the LTTE, to be equally concerned 
about the fate of civilians, and to consider any 
governmental initiative to safeguard civilian 
lives in a positive manner.


Executive Director
On behalf of the Governing Council

______


[2]  Pakistan

(i)

Inter Press Service
June 6, 2008

PAKISTAN:  SCHOOL BOMBINGS FORCE GIRLS TO DROP OUT
by Ashfaq Yusufzai

Darra Adamkhel school bombed on May 27.

Credit:Ashfaq Yusufzai/IPS

PESHAWAR, Jun 6 (IPS) - "I am disappointed about 
quitting school, but my parents want me to stay 
at home," says Sumaira Begum, a student of class 
8 at the Government High School Mardan in 
Pakistan's North West Frontier Province (NWFP). 
"On Mar. 20, my school was bombed after which 
nearly 100 girls including I stopped attending."

Gul Bahar Begum, school principal, confirms the 
number. "Of our 1,100 students, about 100 have 
stopped coming," she said, explaining that the 
school received a letter from the local Taliban 
on Feb. 20, warning that it would be attacked if 
the girls went unveiled.

A month later, a pre-dawn blast destroyed a part 
of the school building and scared parents forced 
their daughters to leave school.

So far all school bombings in the NWFP and 
adjoining Federally Administered Tribal Areas 
(FATA) have been after midnight. There have been 
no casualties.

A reported 118 girls' schools have been damaged 
in bomb attacks over the last one year.

After banning girls' education in the Mohmand 
tribal agency, the Taliban allowed girls to go to 
school this month, but said that both the 
teachers and students have to wear veils.

"This is just what the Taliban are doing in 
neighbouring Afghanistan. Girl students are 
targeted there," says education officer, 
Musarratullah Khan. He estimates the total cost 
of repairs will be roughly 230 million rupees 
(nearly 6 million dollars).

Khan fears the spate of bombings and other 
Taliban activities will cripple female education, 
which is already very low in this male-dominated 
society.

The last school bombing was reported on May 27 
from Darra Adamkhel, NWFP. The red-brick 
Government Girls High School, which was 
extensively damaged, has been shut ever since.

Militants had blown up the building of the 
Government Girls' Middle School in the Kohi Wal 
locality of Darra Adamkhel on Mar. 19. More than 
a dozen girls' schools have been damaged. Not one 
has reopened in the past two months.

A mere 1,939 of the 4,575 primary students in 
FATA are girls. Likewise in NWFP, only 134,270 of 
the total 366,064 primary students are female. 
The bias persists even among teachers. While 
4,348 are female teachers, 6,788 are male.

Of the 694 high schools, in NWFP some 172 are for 
girls. Female enrolment is only 32,993 against 
146,991 boys. The number of female teachers is 
1,541 against 6,892 male teachers. Meanwhile, 
FATA has only 11 girls' colleges against 22 for 
boys. And the number of female lecturers is 133 
against 346 male lecturers.

On Mar. 20, the school in Ismaelia village, Swabi 
district of NWFP -- 118 km west of the provincial 
capital, Peshawar -- was destroyed partially when 
a bomb went off. It caused minor injuries to a 
watchman.

Education officer Khan says that the NWFP and 
FATA need 22,000 new schools to accommodate 2.8 
million out-of-school children for which 55 
billion dollars has been earmarked. "But the 
spate of bombings of girls' schools would add to 
the tally of dropouts," he added.

Police official Abdullah Jan said that women 
schoolteachers and girl students often received 
threatening letters to wear the traditional veil.

On Apr. 26, a bomb explosion damaged a girls' 
school in the Noor Ali Kalay area in Kohat 
district, NWFP. The blast was the sixth in a row 
against girls' schools during the past two months 
in Kohat. Extremists had earlier sent letters to 
several middle and high schools' managements, 
ordering them to expel girls who had finished 
class 4. They threatened to destroy the school 
building or kill the principal.

Dil Afroza, an education officer in Darra 
Adamkhel, said the people were terrified and 
several students preferred to study at home 
instead of going to school.

"If the government does not take any action 
against those involved in terrorists attacks, all 
middle and secondary level girls' schools in the 
area will be forced to close down," Raes Khan, 
father of two students at the same school, told 
IPS.

His daughter Nabeela was emphatic that she did 
not want education at the cost of her life. "If I 
die in a blast in school, my parents will be in 
shock. I have decided to study under a private 
tutor," she confides.

"During the past few months, the authorities have 
arrested 15 people in connection with the blasts 
at two girls' schools, but the actual 
perpetrators still remain unidentified," Dil 
Afroza says.

On May 5, a bomb damaged the main gate of a 
school in a Gujarat village in Mardan, NWFP. The 
mayor of Gujarat's union council, Nigar Khan told 
IPS the school administration had received a 
threatening letter a month ago warning that if 
the students and staff did not observe the veil, 
the school building would be blown up within 15 
days.

"Frightened students have started wearing the 
burqa. It is a new thing for them. They are not 
used to it. The principal has issued a verbal 
order [on the burqa] in this regard," says Jamila 
Bibi, a class 7 student in a school in Charsadda 
district, close to Peshawar.

Even girls' schools in upscale Peshawar have 
received anonymous threats of suicide bombing. 
Several schools closed ahead of the summer 
vacation after their administrations received 
threatening letters.

(END/2008)


---

(ii) New York Times, June 1, 2008

THE LAWYERS'S CRUSADE

Aitzaz Ahsan, De facto leader of the lawyers' 
protests, at a rally in Rawalpindi, Pakistan.

by James Traub


In April, on the highway outside the little 
Punjabi town of Renala Khurd, Aitzaz Ahsan was 
waylaid by a crowd of seemingly deranged lawyers. 
The advocates, who wore black suits, white shirts 
and black ties, were not actually insane; they 
just seemed that way because they were so 
overcome with excitement at greeting the 
mastermind of Pakistan's lawyers' movement, 
perhaps the most consequential outpouring of 
liberal, democratic energy in the Islamic world 
in recent years. The 62-year-old Ahsan was on his 
way to address the bar association of Okara, 10 
miles away, but the lawyers, and the farmers and 
shopkeepers gathered with them, were not about to 
let him leave. They boiled around the car, 
shouting slogans. "Who should our leaders be 
like?" they cried. "Like Aitzaz!" And, "How many 
are prepared to die for you?" "Countless! 
Countless!"

Pakistan's lawyers were not, in fact, courting 
martyrdom, but their willingness to stand up for 
their convictions, and to suffer for them, has 
transformed their country's legal and political 
landscape. After Pervez Musharraf, Pakistan's 
president, demanded the resignation of Iftikhar 
Muhammad Chaudhry, the chief justice of the 
Supreme Court, in March of last year, the lawyers 
boycotted the courts and held massive rallies 
across the country. The movement was managed by a 
small group led by Ahsan, a prominent legislator 
and one of Pakistan's leading constitutional 
lawyers. Ahsan also took Chaudhry on as a client, 
and last July persuaded the Supreme Court to 
restore Chaudhry to the bench - an astonishing 
rebuke to Musharraf.

Pakistan, the lawyers' movement and Ahsan have 
been through a great deal since then. Early last 
November, Musharraf declared martial law, 
deposing Chaudhry and 60 other judges and putting 
Ahsan and thousands of other lawyers into prison 
or under house arrest. The assassination of the 
popular opposition leader Benazir Bhutto seemed 
to leave the field clear for Musharraf to 
reassert his dominance. But in February of this 
year Musharraf's party was routed in 
parliamentary elections, and Ahsan and his 
colleagues resumed agitating for the restoration 
of Chaudhry and the other judges. That's what he 
was doing in Okara in April: keeping the heat not 
only on Musharraf but also on the new civilian 
government, some of whose members seemed less 
than happy at the prospect of a truly independent 
judiciary.

In fact, a man who had done so much to restore 
democratic government to Pakistan was now 
threatening the new, elected regime - in the name 
of democracy. What's more, Ahsan was pointing the 
weapon of popular agitation at his own political 
party, the Pakistan Peoples Party, whose leader, 
Asif Ali Zardari, the widower of Benazir Bhutto, 
was dragging his feet on the restoration of the 
judiciary. The lawyers themselves were talking 
about a coming "train wreck"; so were nervous 
P.P.P. officials. But Ahsan was unfazed. "You 
can't have a democracy without an independent 
judiciary," he told me in one of a series of 
conversations across Pakistan earlier this year. 
"And you can certainly not construct a 
parliamentary structure on the debris of the 
judicial edifice." Over the ensuing weeks, 
Zardari made and unmade a series of promises to 
restore the judges. A few weeks ago, Ahsan and 
the country's lawyers voted to go back to the 
streets.

Pakistan has all the accouterments of democracy 
with, at least until recently, very few of the 
habits of thought or behavior upon which 
democracy depends. Along with India, from whose 
territory it was carved out in 1947, Pakistan 
inherited the English institutions of law, 
parliament, civil service and the like; judges 
even wore powdered wigs until about 30 years ago. 
But something went wrong from the very start. The 
scholar Stephen P. Cohen writes in his 2004 book, 
"The Idea of Pakistan," that the country was 
conceived as a fortress or refuge from Hindu 
domination in India, putting security before 
individual rights. The "key power players," Cohen 
argues, including the army, the bureaucrats and 
the political left, "wished Pakistan to be 
democratic, but they were not willing to make it 
so." Other factions, including feudal landlords 
and Islamists, did not even wish it to be 
democratic.

But since Pakistan had a constitution, a 
judiciary, a parliament and an electoral 
commission, the country's military rulers felt 
compelled to engage in a democratic dumb show, 
and they rarely failed to secure the active 
collaboration of the judiciary. When Gen. Ayub 
Khan overthrew a civilian government and annulled 
the constitution in 1958, the Supreme Court 
endorsed the act as a matter of "revolutionary 
legality." In 1962, Khan promulgated a new 
constitution, which transferred many powers to 
himself as president. In the years to come, the 
courts would find rationales for superseding 
constitutions and for rigged elections and 
referendums; judges would actively collude with 
military officials against the political parties. 
A report by the International Crisis Group, which 
monitors conflict areas, describes Pakistan's 
constitutional history as "a series of elaborate 
jurisprudential efforts to vindicate and 
facilitate military interventions into democratic 
politics."

   Aitzaz Ahsan (pronounced "AY-ti-zaz EH-sen") 
grew up in this system. He comes from a prominent 
family in Lahore, a Mughal capital in what is now 
Punjab, Pakistan's administrative and cultural 
heart; the spacious bungalow in which Ahsan lives 
and works was built by his grandfather in 1926. 
After the declaration of martial law last fall, 
he was held there under detention for four 
months, working out on his treadmill, writing 
resistance poetry and receiving occasional 
visitors said to be family members.

We had lunch on trays in his living room, 
followed by Swiss chocolates. Ahsan ate 
sparingly; he's slender in a country where 
successful men are generally ample. He tends 
carefully to his appearance: even in the midst of 
a howling crowd, his elegantly styled mop of 
silver hair, parted just to the left of center, 
stays in perfect order. Ahsan has a deep and 
melodious voice that must work wonders in the 
courtroom; he speaks slowly and methodically in 
both English and Urdu. In his speech, his bearing 
and his restrained gestures, he has the equipoise 
of the well born. He is, at the same time, a 
youthful figure with something of the schoolboy's 
sly, chaffing manner.

Like Jawaharlal Nehru, another silver-tongued 
barrister-activist, Ahsan studied at Cambridge, 
where he earned his law degree. Returning to 
Pakistan in 1967, he soon joined the Pakistan 
Peoples Party, which had been founded by Zulfikar 
Ali Bhutto, Benazir's father, and was widely 
considered the country's most liberal and 
forward-looking party. Bhutto became president in 
1971, and Ahsan, barely out of his 20s, was soon 
appointed a minister in the Punjab state 
government. In 1977, yet another military figure, 
Gen. Mohammad Zia ul-Haq, overthrew the 
government, jailing Bhutto and ultimately 
executing him. Ahsan began defending hundreds of 
the journalists and party members whom Zia had 
imprisoned. "I became," he told me, "a pain in 
the neck." Ahsan - whose wife, Bushra, was 
herself a prominent activist - spent more than 
two years in Zia's prisons. He put the time to 
good use by writing "The Indus Saga," a book that 
argues that Pakistan derives its identity not 
from Islam, as the theocrats around Zia insisted, 
but rather from the confluence of "primordial" 
Central and South Asian cultures.

Soon after Zia was killed in a plane crash in 
1988, power passed back to a civilian government 
led by Benazir Bhutto. Ahsan won a seat in 
Parliament and served as minister of law and of 
the interior, making him, he says, "virtually the 
deputy prime minister." But Bhutto's 
inexperience, her imperious manner and the 
constant interference of the army prevented the 
government from making much headway. After the 
president dissolved the government in 1990, 
Bhutto was replaced by Nawaz Sharif, who then, in 
classic Pakistani fashion, turned the courts on 
his political rivals. Ahsan defended both Benazir 
and Zardari (popularly known as "Mr. 10 Percent" 
for his reputation for supposedly taking a skim 
from big government contracts) in 14 cases, 
including, he says, "corruption against both," 
and in Zardari's case, "kidnapping, ransom and 
murder."

Ahsan is almost recklessly outspoken about P.P.P. 
leaders, even though they are his own political 
patrons. He speaks admiringly of Benazir Bhutto's 
courage and steadfastness but also points out 
with disdain that she viewed herself as the 
P.P.P.'s "life chairperson." And he does not 
bother to conceal his dim view of Zardari. In the 
car, as we drove back through the night to 
Lahore, I asked him how many of the allegations 
of corruption he believed were justified. "Most 
of them," Ahsan said, after a moment's 
reflection. "The type of expenses that she had 
and he has are not from sources of income that 
can be lawfully explained and accounted for."

In 1999, Pakistan's messy democratic interval 
came to an end in the usual way, with a military 
coup, this time by General Musharraf. At first, 
Pakistanis welcomed the relief from chaotic and 
ineffective civilian government. But Musharraf's 
appeal began to wear thin as he rigged elections 
and rewrote the constitution almost at will, 
cozied up to the Islamist political parties and, 
at the same time, made himself America's 
front-line ally in the war on terror. But 
Musharraf might have faced no threat to his 
continued rule had he not tried to fire Justice 
Chaudhry on March 9, 2007.

Though a country lawyer who lacked the polish of 
Ahsan and his ilk, Chaudhry had become something 
very unusual in Pakistan - an activist judge. He 
had used his power to hear cases suo moto - on 
his own motion - in order to take on 
controversial cases involving, for example, 
women's rights and sensitive property issues. 
Though Musharraf later accused the judge - on 
very flimsy evidence - of releasing terror 
suspects, at the time he and others in the 
Pakistani elite saw Chaudhry as a judicial 
crusader who had set himself against the 
government, most notably by nullifying a deal to 
privatize a major steel company. He was not so 
much a threat as an extremely vexing gadfly. The 
president ordered the chief justice to come to an 
army office and, in the presence of the country's 
highest intelligence officials, ordered him to 
step down. Musharraf had forcibly retired other 
judges before; so, for that matter, though more 
circumspectly, had Nawaz Sharif. And the judges 
had gone quietly. But Justice Chaudhry refused; 
and he did so, in effect, on television.

The confrontation came at a moment when the 
leaders of the two major parties were languishing 
in exile; there was no one of stature to oppose 
the increasingly unpopular dictator. And after so 
many years of feeding on cynicism, Pakistanis 
were almost palpably hungry for genuine heroes. 
The whole country seemed to follow the Chaudhry 
story as the chief justice was browbeaten for 
hours and then, emerging from his ordeal, shoved 
into a car to be sent to house arrest. Here was a 
narrative that instantly lent itself to allegory. 
As Ahsan says, "There have been corrupt and vile 
chief justices in the past, but he seemed to be a 
prince - the prince who challenges authority, 
defies his executioners and was prepared to go to 
the gallows holding his head up."

The response was astonishing. When, eight weeks 
after the drama, Ahsan drove Chaudhry from 
Islamabad to Lahore, tens of thousands of people 
lined the streets; the 150-mile trip took 26 
hours, and every minute was covered live on 
television. Ahsan, a seasoned politician as much 
as an advocate, quickly grasped that he could use 
the power of public opinion to give the timid 
judges of the Supreme Court the courage to stand 
up to Musharraf. For the next three months, he 
and Chaudhry crisscrossed the country by car, 
with Ahsan addressing the delirious crowds and 
the chief justice carefully limiting himself to 
high-minded speeches to his fellow lawyers.

And it worked. On July 20, the Supreme Court 
ruled that Musharraf had deprived the chief 
justice of office in violation of the 
constitution, which vested such powers in the 
judiciary, not in the executive. It was a 
historic victory. Malik Saeed Hassan, a retired 
judge of the Lahore High Court, a venerable 
figure who began practicing law in the late 
1950s, told me that the decision constituted "the 
first victory over military authority in 60 
years." With perhaps a trace of hyperbole, Hassan 
compared the spectacle of Musharraf grudgingly 
allowing Chaudhry's return to King John accepting 
Magna Carta.

In late September, Musharraf filed his candidacy 
for the presidential election to be held the 
following week. As the army's chief of staff, 
Musharraf was in violation of a constitutional 
rule prohibiting the president from holding 
another office. He took care of this problem with 
a 2002 referendum that allowed him to serve for 
five years; but that period had now lapsed. 
Nevertheless, Musharraf was refusing to remove 
his uniform. Ahsan petitioned the Supreme Court - 
headed once again by Chaudhry - to declare 
Musharraf's candidacy invalid. The court allowed 
the election to proceed, and Musharraf won; but 
the court also retained for itself the option of 
finding the election legally invalid. On Nov. 3, 
with the court poised to deliver a verdict that 
Musharraf must have feared would be negative, the 
general declared martial law.

People who knew Pakistan well were taken aback by 
the lawyers' movement. Stephen Cohen, the 
Pakistan scholar, admits that he "misjudged" the 
country's commitment to constitutional 
principles. In his 2004 book on Pakistan, he 
wrote, "While Pakistan's Islamists have 
enthusiastically cultivated international ties 
and contributed much to Islamist thinking . . . 
Pakistan is an ideological ghetto, especially as 
far as its liberals are concerned." But there 
truly was a liberal tradition in Pakistan, buried 
beneath six decades of dictatorship, corruption 
and religious extremism. I was struck by the deep 
sense of embarrassment, even shame, that many 
Pakistanis feel over their political and economic 
failures, and their sense of resentment about 
being viewed in the West as an Islamic autocracy. 
"We are and very much remain," Ahsan says, "a 
South Asian Muslim country, sharing aspirations 
and history with India - due process, habeas 
corpus, mandamus, certiorari. We are not a Middle 
Eastern Arab Muslim country."


The movement to restore Chaudhry, and the 
constitution, and the rule of law, held out the 
hope of disinterring the liberal tradition. In a 
country where politics taint everything, many of 
the lawyers were independents. Pakistan's bar 
associations were among the few bodies that had 
consistently selected their leaders through 
democratic elections; and the country's 116,000 
lawyers had chosen through their bar associations 
to commit themselves to protest. Ahsan was not 
then an officeholder, but he worked alongside the 
president of the Supreme Court Bar Association, 
Munir Malik, and Tariq Mahmood, a former judge 
who had quit rather than accept Musharraf's 
blatant rigging of the 2002 referendum. Years of 
disappointment had made Pakistanis cynical about 
politics and public life, but these were men 
whose integrity put them beyond question.

The lawyers see themselves as the custodians of 
Pakistan's liberal traditions. Many of the 
advocates I spoke with in Islamabad and Lahore, 
and in smaller towns in Punjab and Sindh, had 
been involved in the struggle against 
authoritarian rule since as far back as the 1960s 
and the era of Ayub Khan. Some had been jailed by 
Ayub, others by Zia or even Zulfikar Ali Bhutto, 
himself a lawyer but no friend of civil liberties.

I spent one morning at the Lahore High Court, 
where Aitzaz Ahsan has been practicing for 40 
years. The High Court is a splendid compound of 
tawny brick, trellised arches, glittering domes - 
an incarnation of the Anglo-Indian tradition. The 
High Court Bar Association occupies a courtyard 
at the center of the compound. Between cases the 
lawyers, as well as venerated elders like Malik 
Saeed Hassan, camp out in the Bar Room, a 
dilapidated lounge with sticky benches and tables 
(where tea rather than alcohol is served), and in 
the paved brick courtyard, dominated by a great, 
spreading banyan tree.

The advocates spoke of last year's epic 
confrontations as if they were the scenes of a 
democratic passion play: March 9; July 20; and 
then Nov. 3, "a dark day in our history," when 
Musharraf declared martial law. The lawyers had 
borne the brunt of the general's wrath, as they 
did earlier in the year. Abdul Hayee Gilani, 
sitting in the courtyard with two colleagues over 
endless cups of tea, described in detail how, on 
March 17, 2007, the police invaded the sacred 
precincts of the Lahore High Court Bar 
Association, trashing the place and even raining 
bricks down from a parapet. But that was only a 
prelude. On Nov. 5, Gilani said, the police 
executed "the most brutal attack on this compound 
since the creation of the High Court in 1893." 
Lawyers, including women and the elderly and 
infirm, were manhandled and beaten. Over the 
ensuing days, more than 500 members of the bar 
were arrested; many were sent to remote jails 
beyond the easy reach of families and then denied 
the routine right to receive food and bedding 
from home.

Since that time, the lawyers in Lahore, like 
those all over the country, have boycotted the 
courts, refusing to appear before the judges who 
took the places of those Musharraf fired. Many 
have exhausted their resources. Mohammad Azhar 
Siddique, a 41-year-old lawyer who served as 
Ahsan's traveling sidekick and press attaché, 
said flatly, "I'm penniless." He hadn't paid the 
rent in months, and he pulled his second-youngest 
child out of private school. But, he added 
grimly, "I'm not going to compromise." The 
lawyers' anger and pride, their sense of the 
righteousness of the struggle, still burned 
brightly. Gilani said that he and his friends 
were fully prepared to return to the streets if 
that's what Aitzaz Ahsan told them to do. "He 
organized the crowds and the bar associations," 
Gilani said. "It was through his brainchild that 
we gained the confidence of the people."

On the morning flight from Karachi to Sukkur, a 
city in the southern province of Sindh where the 
Pakistan Peoples Party high command was going for 
an annual pilgrimage to Zulfikar Ali Bhutto's 
grave site - now that of his daughter as well - 
Ahsan was approached by Farooq Naik, the law 
minister and a party leader. Naik, according to 
Ahsan, asked him to mute his harsh criticism of 
Zardari and the party. Zardari had reached an 
agreement with Nawaz Sharif to reinstate the 
judges within 30 days of the formation of the new 
government, and Naik implored Ahsan to show some 
faith and trust. Ahsan agreed to act as if he 
accepted their bona fides, though he didn't 
altogether. He says he believed that Zardari 
feared that Chaudhry and other apolitical judges 
might restore some of the cases against him that 
had been summarily dismissed. Beyond that, he 
recognized that the P.P.P. was itself a feudal 
and only marginally democratic body led by a 
figure accused of corruption and violence. 
Zardari, Ahsan told me flatly, "doesn't want 
independent judges. He wants dependent judges."

Ahsan and the lawyers no longer had the 
commanding position they enjoyed in 2007, when 
they alone stood up against Musharraf. And they 
had committed the serious tactical mistake of 
boycotting the parliamentary election, which they 
predicted that Musharraf would once again rig. 
The lawyers seemed to have mistaken themselves 
for a political party rather than a political 
force. "Lawyers have no right to decide whether 
to participate or not," as Tariq Mahmood, the 
former judge, said to me. Ahsan opposed the 
election boycott, but he seems to have felt, 
perhaps mistakenly, that he had to honor it. He 
had been allotted a constituency but chose not to 
run, a decision that infuriated P.P.P. loyalists. 
The election turned out to be surprisingly 
honest, and the P.P.P. and Nawaz Sharif's party, 
the Pakistan Muslim League-N, won an impressive 
victory despite the fact that Benazir Bhutto had 
been assassinated (leaving the party in the hands 
of her unpopular husband) and the fact that Nawaz 
Sharif had not been permitted to return to 
Pakistan from exile until immediately before the 
election. The P.M.L.-N, in particular, far 
exceeded expectations - because, it was widely 
believed, the party had made the restoration of 
the judges its top priority.

After the election, the lawyers returned to the 
streets, declaring a "black flag" week to press 
their demand for the restoration of the judges. 
But did Pakistan really still need protest 
politics now that it finally had a democratically 
elected government? What's more, that government 
had formally embraced the cause for which the 
lawyers had fought. Some of the civil-society 
activists who rejoiced at the lawyers' movement 
were appalled to hear Ahsan threaten to embark on 
a "long march" across Pakistan if Parliament 
failed to bring the judges back within 30 days. 
"A protest," said Samina Ahmed, the director of 
the International Crisis Group's Pakistan office, 
"would endanger the credibility and the stability 
of a democratically elected government in its 
infancy." The lawyers' movement, she said, had 
lost perspective: "The lawyers have played an 
essential role, but it is one lobbying group, and 
it must operate inside a democratic framework."

Ahsan seemed quite blithe about these concerns. 
When I asked if he worried that the lawyers could 
be blamed for splitting the fragile coalition, he 
said, "If the party doesn't act, it will force a 
debate inside the party, and that would be a good 
thing." That night he pushed Zardari hard at the 
party's conclave near the Bhutto family grave 
site; Zardari pushed back, insisting, according 
to Raja Adil Bashir, a party official, that the 
lawyers "should not try to threaten the 
government." And Ahsan kept up the public 
pressure. That's why he visited Okara and then 
the larger city of Sahiwal; both were on the 
planned route of the Long March.

He had promised the law minister to sideline 
Justice Chaudhry and to keep a lower profile. But 
the crowds thronging the markets of both cities 
were very large and very noisy. Ahsan stood up 
through the sun roof of his S.U.V. and waved, 
while men standing on the ledge of a mosque 
showered him with a great cascade of rose petals. 
As many as a dozen lawyers hung on to either side 
of the car as it crawled along. A drummer sent up 
a tattoo, firecrackers banged, men danced in the 
street. People shouted "Musharraf is a dog!" and 
"Go, Musharraf, go!" and "Countless! Countless!" 
Members of an armed police unit, wearing T-shirts 
that read "No Fear," trotted alongside.

The lawyers of Okara were fired up; in Sahiwal, 
they were feverish. The scrum at the door of the 
bar association was so violent that the man in 
front of me was slammed into a plate-glass 
window, which then shattered. Ishtaq Ahmed, a 
lawyer with a close-shaved beard, explained the 
mood to me. "Here we have suffered more than any 
place," he said. "During our demonstrations, 
petrol was sprinkled and lawyers were put on 
fire. We had 50 injuries, five serious."

They had been boycotting the courts since the day 
Musharraf confronted Justice Chaudhry. After the 
head of the bar association furiously recited the 
litany of their suffering, Ahsan spoke in his 
calm, inspirational manner about the battle they 
had waged against Musharraf. He conscientiously 
steered clear of his own party. Only at the very 
end of his 75-minute oration did he wax 
passionate, chanting a protest poem he wrote 
while in detention, pausing to let his listeners 
roar back the lines they had all come to know. 
Ahsan cross-examined me on the way home. Had I 
noticed the enthusiasm of ordinary people? Had I 
seen them standing on the highway and waving and 
smiling from the shops? "That," he said, "is the 
resource we want should there be a Long March."

And then, a few days later, the pent-up anger and 
restlessness boiled over in a way that seemed to 
jeopardize the Long March and everything else. On 
April 8, a mob of lawyers in Lahore gathered 
outside an office building in which Sher Afgan 
Niazi, a despised Musharraf loyalist, was 
visiting his own lawyer. When he finally emerged, 
after five hours, Sher Afgan was cuffed and 
punched by the mob. Here was a televised image to 
wipe out all those fine scenes of self-control 
from last summer. Senior lawyers like Tariq 
Mahmood were aghast. The lawyers' vaunted moral 
authority seemed to have dissolved in a spasm of 
outrage. Who would listen to them now?

The only one who wasn't worried seemed to be 
Aitzaz Ahsan. He was ill that day, and when he 
awoke from a nap to see the appalling pictures of 
lawyers armed with eggs and tomatoes, he rushed 
to the scene. He addressed the lawyers and 
admonished them to put down their missiles. He 
had arranged to have an ambulance pull up to the 
front door, and he took a trembling Sher Afgan in 
his arms and brought him outside. Then everything 
went haywire: the feeble police cordon broke, and 
the ambulance driver vanished. That, he conceded, 
was a terrifying moment. But he clambered up on 
top of the vehicle and ordered the lawyers to 
push it to safety. And they complied. It was the 
nonlawyers in the crowd - provocateurs, it now 
seemed - who manhandled Sher Afgan. And they, 
too, were captured on TV.

By the time I saw Ahsan in his Islamabad home the 
next night, he had been interviewed dozens of 
times, and his narrative had begun to carry the 
day. He did one more phone interview, watching 
the news program at the same time, somehow 
concentrating while his voice emerged several 
seconds later. He was a media virtuoso, in his 
element. We talked when the show ended. "The 
lawyers have emerged more unified than ever," he 
insisted. "And I have become much more famous." 
The thought tickled both his vanity and his sense 
of irony. "I'm being treated," he said, "like the 
policeman who's rescued the cat from the tree."

Almost everyone I met in Pakistan asked me some 
version of the question, "Why is America against 
Pakistan's democracy?" It wasn't easy to come up 
with a good answer. President Bush had, after 
all, grandly declared in his second inaugural 
address that the United States would "seek and 
support the growth of democratic movements and 
institutions in every nation and culture." A mass 
movement seeking the return of constitutional 
rule in an Islamic nation would seem to be the 
answer to the president's clarion call. And yet 
the Bush administration had neither publicly nor 
privately backed the movement to restore the 
judiciary. American officials offer several 
explanations. "It's a sequencing issue," one 
senior official explains: Musharraf was to be 
carefully coaxed to make concessions he could 
live with, like inviting Benazir Bhutto back from 
exile and ultimately holding democratic 
elections. Musharraf could not live with 
Chaudhry, whose very name induced a fit of 
spleen. "We didn't want to see Musharraf 
humiliated," as this official, who requested 
anonymity because she was not authorized to 
discuss policy formation, says. And the 
administration feared triggering any process that 
might lead to the ouster of the general, who had 
proved willing to wage the war on terror on 
American terms. Another way of looking at it was 
that the imperative of the war on terror had 
trumped the imperative of democracy promotion.

Once the election demonstrated how very unpopular 
Musharraf was, the American strategy shifted from 
preserving his authority to ensuring an orderly 
transition. This still meant sidelining Justice 
Chaudhry, who would, in all likelihood, resume 
hearing the case the lawyers filed against 
Musharraf and quite possibly force him to step 
down as president. Senior American officials 
pointedly declined to join the call to reinstate 
the chief justice. The Americans were widely 
believed to be quietly encouraging both 
Musharraf's allies and Pakistan Peoples Party 
officials to find a face-saving formula, 
including shortening the chief justice's tenure 
in office or pensioning him off to an 
ambassadorship. Tariq Mahmood told me that when 
Anne Patterson, the U.S. ambassador to Pakistan, 
obliquely suggested to him that an opening might 
be found for Chaudhry somewhere in the 
international bureaucracy, he found himself 
wondering whether he was being asked to offer a 
bribe to the chief justice of Pakistan. 
(Patterson declined to comment.) Mahmood told me 
he described the five-month-long detention of 
Chaudhry and his family - for which no legal 
order had been issued - and asked, "Madame, can 
you conceive as an American that this could 
happen in your country?" The lawyers were 
insisting on democratic principles in the face of 
American realpolitik.

The chief justice had become a political 
shuttlecock. Both the Bush administration and the 
P.P.P. would have liked to bat him down but could 
not publicly say so. The P.M.L.-N wanted to keep 
him aloft, both because it had vowed to do so and 
because Nawaz Sharif, who as prime minister had 
trampled on civil liberties, would be delighted 
to position himself as the champion of democracy 
against a reluctant or double-dealing Zardari. (A 
quick restoration of the judges might also remove 
some legal obstacles to Sharif's political 
ascent.) Throughout April and into May, the two 
parties and their leaders engaged in a series of 
floating negotiations, in Dubai and London as 
well as Pakistan. Would the judges be brought 
back right away, with a simple parliamentary 
resolution, or later, as part of a larger package 
of constitutional reforms whose fate was 
uncertain? Would their tenure be curtailed? Would 
the judges who replaced them and took Musharraf's 
oath remain in office? Zardari finally dug in his 
heels and refused to permit a swift and 
unambiguous return to office; perhaps he had 
never intended to make such a concession. The 
P.M.L.-N withdrew its ministers from the 
coalition government. And the national bar 
association, meeting two weeks ago at the Lahore 
High Court, decided that on June 10 - in what 
could be 120-degree heat, in their black suits - 
they would begin the Long March from Multan, in 
southern Punjab, through Okara and Sahiwal and 
onward to Islamabad.

I spoke to Ahsan by phone a few days later. He 
had decided not to contest a by-election slated 
for this summer. He had decisively chosen 
movement politics over party politics, and 
perhaps he was happiest there. Zardari and the 
P.P.P. seemed to have increasingly thrown in 
their lot with Musharraf, appointing allies of 
the president to key posts. Ahsan wasn't worried 
that a new round of protests, this time directed 
in part at his own party, would divide the 
country. "There's enormous popular support for my 
position," he said. And he was, as ever, blithe 
in the face of confrontation. "I'm comfortable," 
he reported from his home in Lahore. "I have no 
problem."


_______



[3]

Nepali Times
06 JUNE 2008 - 12 JUNE 2008

FULL CITIZENS: SEXUAL MINORITIES ARE MOVING TOWARDS RECOGNITION

by Wong Shu Yun

[Photo] BECAUSE I'M WORTH IT: Kusum Lama works at 
the Blue Diamond Society, and dreams of becoming 
a fashion designer.

Alex Chamling used to dread going to confession 
at his church. As a gay Roman Catholic, he felt 
ashamed of his sexuality, which his church told 
him was a sin. But after meeting other gay people 
this year, he says he now feels more confident 
about himself8211;and has given up going to 
confession.

"As long as it doesn't affect others in a 
negative way, I don't believe that loving someone 
of the same sex can be a sin," he says. "My 
priest has told me that although not religiously 
correct, I have every right to love whoever I 
want." The 27-year-old remains a Catholic 
believer and still attends weekly Mass.

Most LGBTI (lesbian, gay, bisexual, transgender 
and intersex) people in Nepal do not face the 
same inner religious conflict as Alex. Hinduism 
contains no explicit religious teachings against 
homosexuality, and families in the Tarai 
sometimes invite cross-dressers to bless their 
newborn children.

But few people want a gay person in their own 
family. Most battles that LGBTI people have to 
fight in Nepal are against exclusion from society 
and their own families.

"If we tell the truth about our sexuality in a 
job interview, we lose the job," says transgender 
Kusum Lama, who will take hormone pills for the 
rest of her life to achieve a feminine figure. 
The sprightly 21-year-old became a sex worker in 
discos and bars after leaving her family, but 
later found support from the Blue Diamond Society 
(BDS), an NGO that helps the LGBTI community 
through education, healthcare
and advocacy.

Lama, now the national secretary for the 
Federation of Sexuality and Gender Minorities 
Nepal (FSGMN), says: "People think that 
transgender people only know how to put on 
lipstick, dance around, clap their hands and be 
prostitutes. They don't know how career-driven 
and clever we can be."

Leaders of the LGBTI community say there may be 
900,000 lesbian and gay people in Nepal, most of 
whom continue to hide their sexuality from 
society. Life for these people, particularly 
transgenders, is especially hard in rural areas, 
where village society expects them to marry 
someone of the opposite sex. Many are attracted 
by the anonymity and relative freedom they can 
find in larger towns and cities.

Lesbian couple Suman Tamang, 26, and Anusha 
Tamang, 21, had to leave their village in Jhapa 
after revealing to their families that they were 
in a relationship. Now they are struggling to 
make a living in Kathmandu, and Suman is learning 
to drive to become a taxi-driver. "We can't go 
back to our village," says Suman. "Only in 
Kathmandu can we live our married life in peace."

When LGBTI people in Nepal speak of marriage, it 
has no legal status. There is no paperwork 
involved, as the state still doesn't recognise 
same-sex marriages. But the situation is slowly 
changing. On 21 December 21, the Supreme Court of 
Nepal declared that all discriminatory laws 
against LGBTI people must be repealed by the 
government, and provision must be made for 
recognition of the 'third gender' on government 
documents.

Nepal has become the only South Asian country to 
provide such rights. And as California's Supreme 
Court lifts a ban on gay marriage this month, 
Nepal is making progress on the sidelines, with 
the BDS and Supreme Court talking of forming a 
committee to explore the legalisation of same-sex 
marriages.

Sunil Babu Pant, Nepal's first openly gay MP and 
founder of the BDS, is hopeful about the future 
for LGBTI people in Nepal. "Things are 
improving," he says. "There is less violence 
compared to three years ago due to increased 
sensitisation." But there are still more than 50 
cases of violence or discrimination against LGBTI 
people pending in the courts.

Awareness of homosexuality is growing in Nepal. 
At least LGBTI people do not have to face the 
religious condemnation they do in Catholic 
countries, but there is still a long way to go 
before they are accepted as 'normal'.


______


[4]

Economic and Political Weekly
May 31, 2008

GROUNDS FOR CONCERN IN KARNATAKA
There are long-term dangers that lurk behind the 
gains made by the BJP in Karnataka.

The outcome of the recent assembly elections in 
Karnataka does mark a notable advance for the 
Bharatiya Janata Party (BJP) that has been 
striving to extend its influence, without much 
success till recently, in peninsular India. In a 
house    of 224, the BJP has won 110 seats, three 
short of a majority, followed by the Indian 
National Congress (INC) with 80 seats, the 
Janata Dal (Secular) [JDS] with 28 and six 
independents.  The last category comprises four 
INC rebels, one BJP rebel and one JDS rebel. 
Neither the Bahujan Samaj Party that wanted to 
have a presence in Karnataka, nor the Janata Dal 
(United) which had won five seats in 2004 won a 
single seat this time. The Communist Party of 
India (Marxist) lost the lone seat it had held in 
the previous house. Similar was the fate of one 
or two smaller and nosier one-person parties with 
a nuisance value.

True to character, the six independent 
candidates, five of them by their own definition 
secular and anti-communal, have   announced that 
they will be supporting the BJP. The decks are 
thus clear for the first BJP led government to 
assume office in   the state.  The swearing in 
ceremony, in case other events or second thoughts 
do not intervene, is to follow just as we go to 
press.  Power is a strong glue that binds the 
most unlikely components. State and national 
leaders of the BJP are crowing that this marks 
the beginning of the end of the Congress-led 
United Progressive Alliance (UPA) government in 
Delhi, and the return of the BJP-led National 
Democratic Alliance to power at the centre.

Political parties losing and winning elections 
are the very stuff of democracy in practice. Such 
shifts in the balance of forces are
not normally matters of concern.  But normative 
formulations do apply.  If only the BJP was a 
normal party, there would have been
no need for concern at its coming to power on its 
own in Karnataka.   However, the BJP would be the 
first to agree that it is not a
normal political party, but "a party with a 
difference", though this difference is wearing 
thin. And yet, this difference did manifest 
itself in several ways during the 20 months it 
shared office and power with the JDS in Karnataka 
when it pursued an agenda independent of and 
outside the agreed common minimum programme of 
that strange arrangement.

Though there was an element of opportunism in the 
JDS walking away from the coalition in October 
last year after being in bed with the BJP for 20 
months on the strange argument that it would not 
be a party to the "communal" BJP heading the 
government, the BJP's role in controversial 
issues like the dispute over Datta Peetha / 
Bababudangiri enabled the JDS to rationalise its 
spurious secular protestations. The JDS has had 
its deserved comeuppance in these elections, 
winning only 28 seats as against the 58 it had 
won in 2004.  Indeed, the legitimacy that the BJP 
has acquired in the state is entirely due to such 
opportunistic policies not merely of the JDS but 
also of the Congress, both of which, while 
claiming to be secular, seemed to be engaged in a 
competitive exercise to legitimise and strengthen 
the BJP in the state in a tactical struggle to 
strengthen themselves in a turf battle that 
predates the emergence of the BJP as a political 
force in the state.

The one saving grace in what is still a 
potentially dangerous development is that the 
BJP, despite its claim to be a "party with a 
difference", is increasingly coming to resemble 
other political parties.  Indeed, the political 
shenanigans in the state ever since the BJP 
became the 50 per cent ruling party that may 
appear rather disgusting to those who profess to 
practise "value-based politics" are reassuring in 
a perverse way. There was, for instance, free 
movement between seemingly committed followers of 
the communal BJP and the secular Congress and the 
JDS happily switching loyalties, and being openly 
welcomed. Indeed, none of the three major 
contenders seemed to be handicapped by lack of 
resources; and the BJP sealed the support of six 
independents within 48 hours of the announcement 
of the results, with a BJP MLA known to be a 
moneybag with vast interests in mining apparently 
playing the role of the facilitator.  If one were 
to go by urban legends, the BJP is increasingly 
like any other political  party, with as many, or 
at least a proportionate number of  criminals and 
moneybags as the Congress and its allies in the

UPA in its rank and file.  

And yet, there are two grounds for concern, one 
immediate, the other long-term. A star campaigner 
for the BJP was Narendra    Modi; and the 
relevance and attractiveness of the Gujarat model 
for Karnataka was openly canvassed. Moditva, the 
modified form of Hindutva, is indeed an explosive 
cocktail    and bodes ill for the state whose 
history and social and cultural mix simply do not 
admit such mobilisation, except at immense cost. 
A long-term cause for worry is that the gains 
made by the BJP may turn out to be rather more 
substantial than suggested by its failure to 
secure a majority of seats.  In as many as 59 of 
the 114 seats that the BJP did not win, it has 
come   second; and 33 of these 59 seats are from 
the 14 districts (originally nine) of "Old 
Mysore", where the BJP is supposed to be weak, 
unable to counter the so-called social coalition 
put in place by decades of Congress (and Janata) 
style politics. Instead of gleefully speculating 
on  how long the BJP led government, crucially 
dependent on the    independents, would survive, 
the democratic opposition should worry about 
these long-term dangers.  But then, where is the 
democratic opposition in Karnataka?  To identify 
this with the Congress or the JDS would be as 
useful as identifying this with the BJP.


______


[5] 

MAHARASHTRA DRESSES UP AS SHIVAJI:
Politics of Identity and Intolerance

by Ram Puniyani

On fifth of June (2008) a group of followers of 
Shiv Sangram Sanghtan (SSS), led by a former MLC 
of Nationalist Congress party, attacked the house 
of editor of Loksatta, a prominent Marathi daily, 
Kumar Ketkar and tried to break open the house. 
They broke the glass panes, did other possible 
damage and smeared the house with coal tar, 
before leaving. They, as per their leader, were 
expressing their spontaneous anger against 
Ketkar, who according to them had insulted 
Shivaji in his editorial. This editorial was a 
sarcastic criticism of the Maharashtra 
Government's move to build statue of Shivaji, 
which will be taller than the one of statue of 
Liberty, and it will be located in the Arabian 
Sea, on an island, which will have to be built 
and an approach to the island will have to be 
made. This will involve expenses, which will be 
in astronomical figures. Ketkar, one of the 
leading journalist and conscience raiser of 
society, questioned the wisdom of the Government 
in planning for such a monument when the state is 
riddled with so many problems, like farmers 
suicide, children's malnutrition, unemployment 
and the like. Ketkar had not once questioned the 
respect for Shivaji which a large section of 
Mahrashtrians have.

What was surprising was that apart from the 
attack, some of those posing to be respecting 
Shivaji, claimed that such an 'inspiring' 
monument will solve the problems of the state! 
What is surprising is that in a state known for 
its liberal, progressive traditions, the tactics 
adopted by the likes of SSS have not been the 
only ones of this type. Earlier we witnessed an 
attack on Bhandarkar Institute, Pune by similar 
characters when James Laine's book subtly hinted 
at the real parentage of Shivaji. Since Laine did 
his research at this institute. Similarly earlier 
Shiv Sena had created ruckus when secular 
activist Teesta Setalvad had prepared a handbook 
for a school which mentioned that Shivaji was a 
Shudra. While this is true, currently the word 
Shudra is perceived in a derogatory sense so Shiv 
Sena's ire!

As such Shivaji has been invoked to build a 
particular type of identity. In current times Bal 
Thackeray in his anti non-Mahrashtrian stance 
built it up for political gains. The same 
identity was used to give anti Muslim message, 
contrary to the fact that Shivaji was not against 
Muslims, he had innumerable Muslims in his 
administration, army, Navy and what have you. He 
also had immense respect for Hazarat Baba 
Bahutthorwale a Sufi saint. Contrary to the truth 
and facts Shiv Sena succeeded in undertaking anti 
Muslim pogrom and anti Muslim politics to 
polarize the Hindus, in the name of Shivaji. By 
and by Mahrashtraian identity has come to be 
fixed around Shivaji alone, bypassing the 
glorious heritage of Saints like Tukaram and 
Chokha Mela, bypassing the doyens of social 
change like Jotiba Phule and Ambedkar. This 
bypasses innumerable freedom fighters from 
Maharashtra and the large groups of rational 
thinkers also.

Shivaji's identity was deliberately picked up by 
communal forces as there are few instances which 
if seen selectively, may sound against Muslims 
and others. This selective projection has been 
employed for motivated and crooked political 
calculations. They have most of the times reaped 
political harvest by abusing the identity of 
Shivaji for their political goals.

Last few years with the growing neglect of social 
issues the identity politics is being given 
exalted importance and so other political 
formations have also been resorting to the use of 
this identity politics around Shivaji. With the 
growth of this comes the intolerance where any 
criticism, real or perceived against the icons is 
met with attacks aimed to muzzle the voice of 
those protesting against some or other policy. 
The degree of intolerance is so intense that the 
attackers are not bothered even about the real 
social issues, they many a times, even don't read 
what has been written and merely on the ground of 
make believe; take the law in their hands to 
pursue their politics. In Mahrashtra Bal 
Thackeray did it to a great effect and now other 
political elements are also doing the same. This 
type of politics essentially wants to preserve 
the status quo and distract the attention from 
basic social issues. Ketkar essentially was 
urging upon the government to take the basic 
issues and not to resort to the politics of 
tokenism.

In current times, especially from last two 
decades the identity politics has been imposed 
upon the society. It all began with RSS combine 
(RC) (RSS and its progeny, BJP, VHP, Bajrang Dal, 
Vanvasi kalian Ashram etc) throwing up the issue 
of Ram temple which was to distract the attention 
from real issues related to caste, gender and 
workers-Adivasi rights. With Lord Ram being 
brought forward as symbol of Indian identity the 
problems of poor were pushed to the back seat and 
today what we see that now Ram Sethu issue is 
being presented as the major problem. Emotive, 
identity related issues have the potential to 
create social hysteria and so have the power to 
undermine the real social problems. Now the 
housing for poor gets substituted by temple for 
Lord Ram and that's how the agenda of this 
identity politics can be understood.

One recalls attacks on journalists in the 
aftermath of Babri demolition. One is witnessing 
today the attacks on those speaking against the 
goals of divisive identity politics. While those 
undertaking such attacks must be punished, the 
identity politics itself needs to be defeated and 
the issues related to the people of society need 
to be put on the forefront of the social agenda. 
The decade of 1980s saw the transition when the 
issue based politics was undermined by diverse 
social processes and vested interests to project 
their social interests in the name of religion 
and in the wake of Meenakishipuram conversions of 
Dalts to Islam, Shah Bano judgement and opening 
of the locks of Babri mosque heralded the opening 
of floodgates of identity related issues and 
politics.

It is not that identity is always counter 
productive. For the oppressed groups identity 
around their icons may give them necessary 
strength to demand for their rights. But that is 
only in the beginning. Over a period of time, the 
positive signals get converted into ritualism and 
the inner meaning is gradually dwarfed. This is 
what happened with the statues of Dr. Ambedkar. 
While the dalit politics was struggling to invent 
new language to ensure their rights, the 
proliferation of statues of Dr. Ambedkar was 
accompanied by infinite divisions in the dalit 
movement. Those who were deeply opposed to the 
rising dalit assertion and power took this 
opportunity and came in the field to erect bigger 
statues while replacing his language of Learn, 
Organize and Struggle with Social Harmony, 
Samajik Samarasta. These statues of Dr. Ambedkar 
were also deliberately desecrated to create 
trouble in Dalit areas. Currently large number of 
temples and statues of Shabri and Hanuman are 
being installed by RSS affiliate Vanvasi Kalyan 
Ahsram in Adivais areas to give the subtle 
message that Adivaisi are to upper caste what 
Hanuman and Shabri were to Lord Ram.

While a lot needs to be understood about 
Mayawati's politics, from her transition from 
Bahujan to Sarvajan, from her original dalit 
stance to collaboration with BJP for some time, 
her defense of Gujarat carnage and her electoral 
interventions which may mostly be benefiting the 
BJP politics, what is undoubted is that while 
initially she gave a sort of strength to dalits 
quest for assertion, currently she is more busy 
with erecting her own statues. At the same time 
her stance of sitting on a level higher than her 
supporters; also indicate the shift from 
Ambedkar's values of Liberty, Equality and 
Fraternity. The complexity of social phenomenon 
is immense. While those talking in the language 
of Rights are being marginalized the one's 
projecting identity and emotive issues are making 
hay. Attack on Ketkar on this ground has more to 
say than just freedom of expression, it also 
reminds us that the type of opinions which could 
be expressed freely some time ago is a no-no in 
contemporary times.

The best example of this is probably celebrated 
and currently hounded painter M.F. Hussein. While 
he drew Goddess Sarswati and many other such 
paintings in previous decades, the attacks came 
in last two decades alone. The same paintings 
were 'discovered' in 90s and he became the target 
of attacks and forced to leave India. Case of 
Taslima also comes fairly close. While not 
commenting on her understanding of Koran and 
Islam, one can say that she also had to suffer 
much more from late nineties till now.

The writers, painters and opinion makers are 
consciously being intimidated and frightened to 
ensure that merchants of identity politics are 
able to undermine the issues related to bread, 
butter, shelter, employment and human rights. And 
that's what is the agenda of those who unleash 
the politics of Rath yatras, Gujarat Carnage, 
beat up Taslima or attack Ketkar. At surface they 
may sound to be divided along religious lines, 
but they have a deeper unity, abolish 
democracy-bring in identity based nation sate.

-
Issues in Secular Politics
E circulated Fortnightly for publication/circulation
June 2008 I


______



[6]

Indian Express
June 10, 2008

NATIONAL POLICY DOES NOT IMPLY NATIONAL CULTURE

by Shyam Benegal

Much of the opposition to the National Culture 
Policy has come from members of its own drafting 
committee. So, what's in the policy that's making 
everyone uncomfortable?


  Let me make it clear at the very outset that the 
exercise of drafting a National Culture Policy 
does not presuppose the existence of or the 
identification of a 'national culture'. That 
would be absurd and meaningless and therefore out 
of question. The first point then is that what 
exactly are we trying to do by drafting a 
National Culture Policy.

I will come to that later but let me first say 
that the present exercise for drafting such a 
policy is not something new. In fact, several 
committees have gone into this question before. 
The present exercise, a fresh attempt to look 
into the issue, began in 2006. Members of this 
committee are unanimous in their view that there 
cannot be any tinkering with the multi-cultural 
ethos of this country and any notion that the 
deliberations were aimed at defining a 'national 
culture' must be dispelled.

Therefore what is it that we are trying to do? As 
everyone knows, India has a vast and varied 
cultural heritage and there is a government 
intervention both at the central as well as the 
state level in matters related to culture. The 
intervention has been in many areas like museums, 
preservation and maintenance of historical sites, 
organising cultural festivals and so on. The 
question whether government intervention in 
cultural affairs is necessary or desirable is a 
separate debate but as of now we are reconciled 
to this fact that government intervention does 
exist.

Culture is an ever-evolving subject so the 
government intervention at all levels must be 
able to adapt in a way so as to ensure that all 
different kinds of cultures continue to get 
support.

This is where a good policy has a role to play. 
First, to describe what we have and then, to 
preserve it, strengthen it through appropriate 
state intervention. There is this whole argument 
that we are not doing enough to protect our 
cultural heritage. Then there is the issue of 
documentation. New cultural forms come and old 
ones die out. We need to document all these. 
There are also many intangible areas of culture. 
So many gharanas of classical music, a variety of 
folk forms, ballads, dance forms exist in this 
country and the ideal situation would be to be 
able to provide adequate support to each one of 
them.

While drafting any such policy, ultimately it all 
boils down to what is actionable and what is not. 
Therefore, one needs to actually spell out what 
are the things that are actionable and then go 
about doing it with maximum efficiency. So the 
effort is to see what are the kinds of 
institutional improvements that can lead to a 
better management of issues related to culture.

Supporting a cultural environment must also take 
into consideration the distinction between 
popular culture and mass culture. Popular culture 
evolves from the participation of a large number 
of people. Mass culture, on the other hand, is 
created for the people, generally imposed and has 
the tendency to manipulate through the use of 
mass media like television. Essentially an urban 
phenomenon, mass culture is an important tool in 
urbanising the country. It has a tendency to 
homogenise. The recent IPL cricket tournament is 
a good example. It changed our cultural life by 
taking our 45 evenings. Similarly, Bollywood, a 
term which I abhor because it does not represent 
the whole of Indian cinema and has a tendency to 
create a hegemony.

We need to analyse the role that mass culture 
plays in our lives by recognising its power, 
recognising its language, the methods it uses to 
change or manipulate common people. In fact, 
elements of mass culture need to be studied by 
bringing it within the spectrum of formal 
education.

Then there is the very important issue related to 
strengthening of forces outside of government 
working in the cultural arena. A number of 
organisations are doing an excellent job and they 
need to be given more support.

I am quite hopeful that the exercise to look for 
a National Culture Policy would result in a 
satisfactory redressal of all such issues. Maybe 
the term 'National Culture Policy' also needs to 
be amended because it does give the impression 
that the effort is to define a uniform single 
national culture, which it is not.

The writer, a film director, is on the drafting 
committee of the National Culture Policy

______


[7]  India: Scientific Temper, Anyone ?


(i)   June 5, 2008, New York City
        RELEASE OF THE SUMMARY REPORT OF THE 
INTERNATIONAL SURVEY WORLDVIEWS AND OPINIONS OF 
SCIENTISTS - INDIA 2007-08

        by Institute for the Study of Secularism 
in Society and Culture (Trinity College, 300 
Summit Street, Hartford, Connecticut 06106, USA).

[Here is how some in the Indian Media reported on 
the release of the above report]

o o o

The Telegraph
June 10 , 2008

GOD SAVE INDIAN SCIENCE
Our Special Correspondent

New Delhi, June 9: Indian scientists are split 
down the middle over their belief in the 
existence of God, the first nation-wide 
investigation into their deepest personal 
thoughts has revealed.

One fourth of scientists took an atheist or 
agnostic position, another fourth were firm 
believers, according to the findings of a survey 
by the US-based Institute for the Study of 
Secularism in Society and Culture.

The rest said they were unsure, or didn't respond 
to the question on God, which was included in a 
Web-based survey that covered 1,100 scientists 
from 130 research or educational institutions and 
universities scattered across India.

But one in three scientists surveyed believe in 
sins and deeds of a past life, and in life after 
death, and one in four scientists believe that 
"holy people" can perform miracles. And 40 per 
cent of the scientists approve of the ritual of 
seeking a religious endorsement of a space launch.

"Our scientists aren't applying the scientific 
temper in all fields of life," said Narisetti 
Innaiah, the chairman of the Centre for Inquiry 
in Hyderabad, a non-government organisation with 
branches in several countries that says it is 
seeking "to provide an ethical alternative to 
religious and paranormal worldviews".

The Centre for Inquiry had helped design the 
questionnaire sent to the scientists, all of whom 
had a doctorate or equivalent degree. "Our space 
scientists take replicas of launch vehicles to 
temples before a launch," Innaiah said. "This 
reflects a belief in supernatural powers," he 
said.

The investigators said the Indian study is 
expected to be a benchmark for future surveys to 
be conducted in other countries. "Something like 
this has never been done before," said Ariela 
Keysar, a demographer and assistant research 
professor in public policy at the ISSSC, at 
Trinity College, Hartford, Connecticut.

"We began with India because India produces a 
large number of scientists working world-wide. 
The impact of Indian science (education) goes far 
beyond India," Keysar told The Telegraph over the 
phone.

The Indian survey has shown that 49 per cent of 
the scientists believe prayer can deliver results 
and at least 7 per cent believe in ghosts, 
spirits and the caste system.

One top Indian biologist said the findings did 
not surprise him. "This is why there's so little 
scientific temper," said Pushpa Bhargava, the 
former director of the Centre for Cellular and 
Molecular Biology, Hyderabad.

"When the government had wanted to introduce 
astrology in universities a few years ago, none 
of the three scientific academies challenged it," 
said Bhargava, who had resigned from all three 
science academies in January 1994, and challenged 
the proposal to introduce astrology through a 
court petition.

But a senior scientist and member of the council 
of the Indian Academy of Sciences said that 
individuals, even scientists, need to be given 
space for personal beliefs.

If it doesn't impact society in any way, a 
scientist with faith need not be condemned, said 
C.C. Kartha, a medical researcher in 
Thiruvananthapuram and a council member. "It's 
unfair to impose either faith or lack of faith on 
anyone," he said.

o o o

livemint.com, June 10, 2008

FOR INDIAN SCIENTISTS, NO CONFLICT WITH GOD

by Seema Singh

Bangalore: Science is all about empirical inquiry 
and objective results, but Indian scientists 
don't appear to be divorced from their culture 
and ethos. The largest ever nationwide survey of 
Indian scientists shows that they are as 
comfortable with seeking the blessings of the 
resident God at Tirumala before a rocket launch 
as they are with embracing stem cell research.

The study, "Worldviews and Opinions of Scientists 
in India", which was released at the United 
Nations in New York on Thursday, has been 
conducted by the Institute of the Study of 
Secularism in Society and Culture (ISSSC) of 
Trinity College in Connecticut, US, and assisted 
by the Centre for Inquiry India. It sampled 1,100 
participants from 130 universities and research 
institutes in the country between July 2007 and 
January 2008.
Among other findings, the study shows that only 
8% of Indian scientists express ethical 
reservations about genetic engineering and stem 
cell research, and 90% agree with the teaching of 
traditional Ayurvedic medicine in university 
courses. A large section, 56%, considers mixed 
economy as the preferred economic model, whereas 
21% favour free market and 9% back socialism. 
Also, 6% think the village-based system is better 
while 8% are unsure.

"It's a very good idea to do sociological 
studies," of scientists, says Pushpa M. Bhargava, 
retired founder-director of the country's premier 
research institute, the Centre for Cellular and 
Molecular Biology in Hyderabad, and a member of 
the National Security Advisory Council.
Scientists around the world should have uniform 
views as they work with the same material, but 
the fact is that socially, scientists are "badly 
divided", says Bhargava, also former 
vice-chairman of the National Knowledge 
Commission, which he resigned from in May 2007. 
"In the West, all good scientists are, 
politically, to the left of the centre; and in 
their religion, (they are) total non-believers 
but in India, it's the reverse; scientists who 
track evolution, actually believe in creation," 
he says. Bhargava thinks sociological studies 
such as this will throw light on why this 
disparity exists.
The survey found that many scientists (44% of the 
sample) were willing to criticize and confront 
religious practices if they contradicted accepted 
scientific theories, but that a sizeable minority 
(23%) were opposed to this. And 33% agree with 
occasional confrontation.
"I've honestly felt that scientists in India are 
split personalities; they may oppose in public 
but pray to Ganesha (the Hindu God of beginnings) 
before starting the day," he argues. He thinks 
this is also about the ethos of the country where 
a large section of the population believes in a 
'superior power'. "Don't we start a symposium 
with a prayer?"

We do, and perhaps for the same reason, on a 
question of "efficacy of traditional therapies 
and technologies", 49% of the scientists surveyed 
said they believed "prayer was efficacious". As 
for invoking blessings before a space flight, 
it'd have come as a surprise to the pioneers of 
India's space programs - Vikram Sarabhai, Satish 
Dhawan, K. Kasturirangan and others who've been 
known to be non-believers, says Bhargava.

Some of the findings have surprised the 
investigators too. The fact that Indian 
scientists do not differentiate much between 
doing research on cows (a holy animal for most 
Hindus) and pigs is most surprising to Barry 
Kosmin, the lead researcher from ISSSC. So is the 
fact that half the respondents believe in the 
efficacy of homeopathy and prayer. With 26% 
Indian scientists having definite belief in God, 
Kosmin says, they contrast sharply with their 
American counterparts as only 10% of scientists 
in the US hold such beliefs.

Is there a lack of scientific temper among Indian 
scientists in a country where scientists 
themselves bemoan the low levels of scientific 
literacy? Yes, says Bhargava, who believes the 
three Indian academies of science have never 
taken a stand on any social issue, and that they 
should engage more with the society. 
Incidentally, Bhargava gave up membership of all 
three academies on these grounds in 1994.
The Indian survey is the first in a series by 
ISSSC which aims to explore the opinions of 
science professionals in various non-Western 
countries. Studies in Japan, China, Russia, 
Israel and Turkey are underway.

______



[9] NOTICES / ANNOUNCEMENTS:

(i)

Science 6 June 2008:
Vol. 320. no. 5881, p. 1285

UNMASKING THE INDUS:
Pakistani Archaeology Faces Issues Old and New
by Andrew Lawler

Finds in Pakistan are opening a new window on the 
Indus civilization, showing that this remote 
region was settled for thousands of years. But 
there are tight constraints on where 
archaeologists can operate.
http://www.sciencemag.org/cgi/content/full/320/5881/1285

---


(ii)

join the demonstration and work for Freedom of 
Expression and Speech, June 10, 2008
COMMITTEE FOR THE FREEDOM OF EXPRESSION

Silent Demonstration on Tuesday to express 
solidarity with Kumar Ketkar & Ahmedabad Times 
journalists

Freedom of Expression and Speech are under 
threat. Two recent incidences of attack on Kumar 
Ketkar's house at Thane and clamping of Sedition 
charges on Times of India Ahmedabad's Journalists 
are classic instances.

In Thane, Kumar Ketkar's house was attacked by 
around 70 activists of Shiv Sangram Sanghatana 
(SSS). Ketkar and his wife Sharada were in the 
house at the time and luckily survived. The 
hoodlums pelted stones, broke window panes and 
smeared black paints at the door. The SSS 
attacked Ketkar for questioning the Maharashtra 
government's decision of installing Shivaji 
Maharaj's statue in the Arabian Sea. Police has 
arrested few persons but still they have not 
booked brain behind the attack.

In Ahmedabad, Times of India's Resident Editor 
Bharat Desai, Correspondent Prashant Dayal and 
photographer are charged with Sedition for 
questioning the alleged links of new Ahmedabad 
police chief O P Mathur with a mafia don and his 
ability to guarantee security in the city.

We need to oppose all the attempts to scuttle the 
freedom of expression and speech by expressing 
our solidarity with Kumar Ketkar and Times of 
India's Ahmedabad journalists. Towards this end, 
we thought it is necessary to organize a silent 
demonstration on Tuesday June 10, 2008 outside 
Churchgate (E) station at 5.30 pm [in Bombay]. We 
appeal to journalists, human rights activists and 
peace loving people of Mumbai to join the 
demonstration and work for Freedom of Expression 
and Speech.


---

(ii)

THE NIGAH QUEERFEST '08

8th-17th August 2008, New Delhi

Following the success of the inaugural festival 
last year, we are excited to announce the Nigah 
QueerFest '08 which will be held in multiple 
venues in
Delhi from 8th-17th August 2008.

This year, the ten-day celebration of queerness 
is anchored around August 11th, the date of the 
first queer protest in Delhi sixteen years ago. 
The
QueerFest remains proud to be entirely funded by 
individual donations from queer and queerfriendly 
people from India and abroad in its attempt to
continuously expand queer-positive spaces around us.

The festival includes a film festival, a 
photography exhibit, interactive workshops, 
parties and new publications. All the info you 
need is on our
website: www.thequeerfest.com

For submissions, please see these links:

Call for films: http://www.thequeerfest.com/Calls08/nqf_filmcall.pdf
Call for photo: http://www.thequeerfest.com/Calls08/nqf_photocall.pdf
To support us: http://www.thequeerfest.com/Calls08/nqf_supportcall.pdf


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

Buzz for secularism, on the dangers of fundamentalism(s), on
matters of peace and democratisation in South
Asia. SACW is an independent & non-profit
citizens wire service run since 1998 by South
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DISCLAIMER: Opinions expressed in materials carried in the posts do not
necessarily reflect the views of SACW compilers.