Wednesday, March 17, 2010
نگہت اورکزئی نے امریکہ کو خوش کر دیا
یہی تو امریکہ چاہتا ہے کہ مسلمان عورت بھی مغرب کی عورت کی طرح ننگی ہو جائے۔ حجاب اتار دے۔بھرے مجمع میں سروں سے دوپٹے اور چادریں اتار پھینکے۔دوپٹہ ۔۔۔ چادر۔۔۔ حجاب۔۔۔یا برقع نہ پہننا کسی عورت کا ذاتی فعل ہے مگر اسے بھرے پنڈال میں اتار کر پھینک دینا ایک شرمناک فعل ہے ۔غیرتمند پٹھانوں کی بیٹی نگہت اورکزئی نے نہ صرف پوری دنیا کے سامنے اپنا سر ننگا کیا ہے بلکہ مسلمان عورت کی چادر کی توہین کی ہے۔ پٹھانوں کی غیرت کو اچھالا ہے۔۔۔ وہ پٹھان برادری جو نیویارک میں نصب سکین مشین کے سامنے برہنہ ہونا برداشت نہ کر سکے اور امریکہ کے منہ پر طمانچہ رسید کرکے وطن لوٹ آئے نگہت بی بی نے ان پٹھانوں کی غیرت پر طمانچہ رسید کیا ہے۔۔۔ نیویارک سے مجھے ایک پٹھان کا نہایت جذباتی فون آیا ،اس نے کہا کہ پٹھان غیرت کا نام ہے۔ نگہت اورکزئی اصلی پٹھان نہیں۔ ”قاف پٹھان“ ہے۔اس کاتعلق ”لوٹا“ پارٹی سے ہے ۔ جو موسم اور ماحول دیکھ کر پینترا بدل لیتی ہیں۔ کل نواز شریف کے ساتھ تھے پھر مشرف کا تانگہ بنے اور اب زرداری کے زیر سایہ پرورش پا رہے ہیں۔ اس نے مزید کہاکہ نگہت اورکزئی کو دوپٹہ اتار نے سے پہلے اپنے ”لیڈر“ مشرف کو ٹیکا اور سندھور بھیجنا چاہئے تھے جس کی وجہ سے پاکستان آج طالبان کی دہشت گردی کا نشانہ بنا ہوا ہے۔ یہ کہتے ہوئے کہ ”اپنی عزت مردوں کے پیروں میں پھینکنے والیMental Disorder ہے“ پٹھان بھائی نے فون بند کر دیا۔ اس بی بی کا تعلق مشرف پارٹی سے ہے جس نے جامعہ حفصہ کی با حیاءبچیوں کو دوپٹوں سمیت جلا ڈالا تھا۔ اس عورت کا تعلق اس پارٹی ہے جس نے چند ڈالروں کے عوض وطن کی باحیاءبیٹی ڈاکٹر عافیہ کو بیچ ڈالا تھا۔ یہ لوگ کیا جانیں عورت کی عزت اور وقار کی قدر و قیمت۔۔۔ بھرے مجمع میں دوپٹہ ہی نہیں اتارتے سیاست کی خاطر ماﺅں بہنوں بیٹیوں کے سودے بھی کر دیتے ہیں۔ صوبائیت کو ہوا دینے والے سندھی ٹوپی کا ایشو بھول گئے ہیں۔۔۔؟ سندھی مرد اپنی ٹوپی کی تعظیم کےلئے جذباتی ہو سکتا ہے تو ایک پاکستانی عورت اپنے دوپٹے کی تذلیل کیسے برداشت کر سکتی ہے۔۔۔؟ صوبائیت کو ہوا دینے والے سندھ کارڈ کا ناجائز استعمال بھی شاید بھول گئے ہیں۔۔۔؟ زرداری کی دُم پر پیر آنے لگے تو سندھ کا پتر بن جاتا ہے اور جب پنجاب پر ڈاکہ مارنا ہو تو ”پنجاب میں بھی بھٹو کے نعرے وجن گے“ کا ڈھول بجانے لگتا ہے۔ بلھے شاہ کے شعر گنگنانے لگتا ہے۔ طالبان ان سیاستدانوں کی خانہ جنگی کی وجہ سے شیر ہو رہے ہیں۔ نگہت اورکزئی کا ڈرامہ غالبََا مشرف کی نئی پارٹی میں شمولیت کےلئے جواز تھا جس کو مشرف نے بھی انجوائے کیا ہے۔ چونکہ مشرف نے قاف اپنے ہاتھوں سے”اکٹھی“ کی ہے لہذا وہ اس کی رگ رگ سے واقف ہے۔ موصوف جانتے ہیں کہ پاکستانیوں کو ”سائیکل فوبیا“ ہو گیا ہے لہذا اس نے بھی اعجا زالحق اور شیخ رشید کی طرح اپنی الگ پارٹی رجسٹر کروا لی ہے۔ برادری سے ووٹ لینے کے لئے اعجاز الحق نے اپنے نام کے ساتھ چودھری لگا لیا۔ آرائیں برادری کا دعویٰ ہے کہ انہوں نے ”مشرف کی باقیات“ اعجاز الحق کو نہیں بلکہ اپنی برادری کو ووٹ دیا ہے جبکہ شیخ رشید کو اس کی برادری نے بھی ووٹ نہیں دیا۔ مشرف نے امریکہ کے شہر سیاٹل میں اپنی ایک تقریر کے دوران پاکستان میں ”آل پاکستان مسلم لیگ“ نامی تنظیم کے رجسٹر ہونے کا اعتراف کرتے ہوئے کہا ہے کہ وہ اس پارٹی کی لیڈر شپ سنبھالیں گے۔۔۔ اور یقیناً ”قاف پٹھانی“ کی دلیری کو دیکھتے ہوئے اسے اعلیٰ عہدے سے بھی نوازیں گے۔ پٹھانی کی دیدہ دلیری سے گو کہ پٹھانوں کا دل دکھا ہے لیکن اس عورت نے اہل مغرب کے سینے میں ٹھنڈ ڈال دی ہے۔ اس کی حرکت کوامریکہ نے خوش آمدید کہا ہے۔ افغان عورت کا برقع اتروانے کےلئے ”غیرت مند امریکہ“ افغانستان گیا تھا لیکن نو برس بیت گئے ہیں ہرجائی ابھی تک واپس نہیں لوٹا اور نہ ہی افغان عورت کا برقع اتروانے میں کامیاب ہو سکا۔ وہ طالبان جو کبھی امریکہ کے مجاہدین تھے، ہیرو تھے نے اپنی ماﺅں‘ بہنوں اور بیٹیوں کے سر ڈھانپ دئیے تھے آج اپنی پٹھان بہن کی حرکت سے ان کے سر شرمندگی سے جھک گئے ہیں۔ سرحد کے غیور پٹھان جو اپنی عورتوں کو چھپا کر رکھتے ہیں کیا نگہت اورکزئی کے فعل کو معاف کر سکیں گے۔۔۔؟ طالبان بھی امریکہ کو خوش کرنے کےلئے دھماکے کرتے ہیں اور ان کی ”بہن“ نے بھی اپنی حرکت سے امریکہ کو خوش کردیا ہے۔۔۔ خادم پنجاب کی غیرت کو للکارنے والی ”پنجابی فلم کی ہیروئین“ سلمان تاثیر کو بھی درجن بھر چوڑیاں بھیج دیتی۔ اسمبلی میں کوئی مرد اپنی پگڑی یا ٹوپی اتار کر نہیں پھینکتا۔ ایک عورت سستی شہرت کی خاطر بھرے مجمع میں تماشہ بنی اور کسی نے اس کا دوپٹہ اٹھا کر اس کے سر پر نہ رکھا۔۔۔؟ سیاسی ایشو کو سیاسی پلیٹ فارم پر اٹھانا چاہئے۔ آئین اور قانون میں رہتے ہوئے حل تلاش کرنا چاہئے۔ تہذیب اور شرافت کے دائرے میں رہ کرآواز بلند کرنا چاہئے۔ مغرب مسلمان عورت کے ساتھ توہین آمیز سلوک کرتا ہے۔ متعصبانہ رویہ اختیار کرتا ہے۔ ہوائی اڈوں پر سکین مشینوں پر اسے ننگا کرتا ہے۔ مسلمان عورت احتجاج کرتی ہے۔ مقدمات کرتی ہے۔ ملازمتوں کا بائیکاٹ کرتی ہے۔ اپنی چادر اور حجاب کےلئے جہاد کرتی ہے اور ایک پاکستانی عورت سستی شہرت کی خاطر اس کی جدوجہد کو یوں پامال کر دیتی ہے۔۔۔؟ طالبان، لال مسجد اور جامعہ حفصہ کارد عمل ہیں۔ قاف کے عمل کا جواب ہیں۔ مشرف کی پیداوار ہیں۔ بی بی نگہت کے شرمناک رویے سے مشرقی عورت کے جذبات مجروح ہوئے ہیں جس کی اسے معافی مانگنا ہو گی۔ ڈاکٹر فردوس اعوان اور نگہت اورکزئی بولنے سے پہلے سوچا کریں کہ ان کی ”گلفشانیاں“ ان کے ”لیڈران“ ہی نہیں ایک زمانہ دیکھ رہا ہوتا ہے۔ اس قسم کے فضول ڈراموں سے پاکستان کے مخالفین محظوظ ہوتے ہیں۔ میاں شہباز شریف نے صوبائیت کا مظاہرہ کیا ہے تو بی بی نگہت نے بھرے پنڈال میں سر سے دوپٹہ اتار کر سرحد کی غیرت کو بدنام کر دیا ہے!
Monday, March 8, 2010
Women through the governance lens
By Sania Nishtar
Although effective governance—or the lack thereof—has an impact on every aspect of our societal, social and economic lives, nowhere is its imprint more vivid than in determining the status of women in a society. This comment uses the International Women’s Day, which is being globally observed today as a peg to briefly outline the linkages. This year’s theme of the International Women’s day, “Equal rights, equal opportunities: progress for all”, is particularly relevant to governance, since upholding women’s political, economic and social rights and striving towards achieving equity and equality of opportunities in a national political context cannot be ensured without effective governance.
Before we examine the relationship, let us be reminded that the status of women in Pakistan is fraught with an ironic and highly polarised paradox, implicit within which are many inequities and inequalities. These are evident in many areas. On the one hand, women are well-represented in parliament, but on the other, exceptions notwithstanding, this largely represents an extension of elite and feudal capture. The professional institutions of higher learning have 50 per cent or higher enrollment of women, but at the same time, there is a literacy gap of 45 per cent between men and women and educational opportunities for rural women remain elusive. Similarly, we see a growing number of women in the traditional, male-dominated professions such as engineering, law, medicine, business, the police and the military. But alongside this trend, the nationally representative labour market statistics speak of gender discrepancies, under-remuneration, systemic impediments to mainstreaming women into the country’s workforce and restricted employment options outside of the informal sectors for socially marginalised and disadvantaged women. Furthermore, it can be argued — and correctly so with reference to a segment belonging to the higher social stratum — that women appear freer than ever to express themselves in the choice of appearance, speech, clothing, arts and entertainment and that they are becoming increasingly progressive, empowered and globalised. However, many others in their close geographic midst are relegated to the strictest confines of purdah, isolation and disempowerment. Moreover, many Pakistani women of today enjoy a better status than most of the Middle Eastern women. But at the same time, these trends, which are true for a minority, haven’t changed some of the deep-seated social behaviours and fundamental prejudices against women, which translate both into discrimination as well as some of the severest forms of violence.
Some may argue that violence against women is globally pervasive. Indeed, it may come as no surprise that 70-90 per cent of women in Pakistan encounter domestic violence and that there are an estimated eight cases of rape every 24 hours. However, what is unfortunately unique to Pakistan is the prevalence of some horrific crimes.
We generally tend to attribute all these abhorrent practices to our tribal and feudal traditions and norms and to the systemic subordination of women vis-à-vis men. That may well be the case to some extent. However, what is not fully appreciated is the role that many other systemic factors play in perpetuating these traditions. Poverty, illiteracy, and social exclusion have a chicken and egg relationship with organised vested interests, of which feudalism is a part, and which promote state capture. A democratic dispensation should be able to break through the strongholds of vested interests, but unfortunately, it sometimes helps to strengthen them.
If the state was governed effectively over the years and Pakistan had sped on the road to development with its economic and social benefits accruing to its population, as has been the case with many Asian countries; if the state had delivered education universally to its population and if an honest government had weakened the organised vested interests that form the bedrock of undesirable tribal and feudal traditions, perhaps heinous crimes such as honour killings and burying alive, would not be condoned as social customs and tribal traditions today. In the absence of these fundamental attributes, which determine the status of women in a society, the impact of legal reforms to improve the status of women introduced by successive governments has been, at best, marginal. Similarly, standalone gender empowerment programmes, measures to enhance the access of women to financial services, and others for skill enhancement have had limited impact whilst the adverse fundamentals remain unchanged. This is the first, and perhaps the most illustrative of the pathways through which failure of governance can be shown to impact the lives of women. Here, it must be appreciated that the term governance is the subject of many interpretations, but in the current sense it is being scoped to the policy making and implementation realms and use of public resources and regulatory power.
The status of women and issues implicit within it, also underscore the importance of another governance impediment — one that relates to ensuring compliance with stated policy norms and standards and enforcement of the laws. In theory, Pakistan ensures respect for women’s rights and fundamental freedoms, as is evidenced by the ratification of many global conventions and declarations. These include the Universal Declaration of Human Rights, the Convention on the Elimination of all forms of Discrimination Against Women (CEDAW) and the UN Declaration on the Elimination of Violence. Pakistan’s constitution has many provisions, which stipulate that “All citizens are equal before the law and are entitled to equal protection of the law” and that “There shall be no discrimination on the basis of sex alone” – Article 25(1) and 25 (2) respectively. Also, Article 35 specifically states that “steps shall be taken to ensure full participation of women in all spheres of national life”.
Several laws are additionally in place, including the Protection of Women (Criminal Laws Amendment) Act 2006. The experts are of the opinion that although all the discriminatory provisions embodied within earlier statutes were not addressed through this statute, it is nevertheless a step in the right direction. Recently, the Women at Workplace Act 2009 has been enacted which aims to “protect women from harassment and (is intended to) make them feel more secure”. In addition, laws are in place to ensure women’s right to inheritance — an important element in the socio economic and political empowerment of women.
However, there are two issues with the implementation of these laws. One set of issues is generic to the implementation of laws in Pakistan. Secondly, the fact that regardless of what the statutes may stipulate, these are conditional on social norms and traditions, which the vast majority of women in the society have to bear with. These issues are further compounded by the biases against women in the criminal justice system — but more important than that, poor performance of the justice system and the relative intransigence with which it dispenses justice to women.
In sum, the status of women is deeply linked with many elements of the society — legal, political, religious, economic, and cultural. Governance can play a key role in shaping most if not all of the societal characteristics through ensuring respect for women’s political, economic and social rights.
So, whilst the enlightened women’s groups draw attention to horrific crimes and discriminatory practices against women — honour killings, live burials, disfigurement by acid, stove deaths, and other undesirable practices, such as childhood marriages, watta satta, vini, marriage to the Quran — to mark the International Women’s Day, we should be reminded that quantum leaps in addressing these challenges can only be made with slow and steady structural solutions.
The writer is the founding- president of the NGO think-tank, Heartfile.
Although effective governance—or the lack thereof—has an impact on every aspect of our societal, social and economic lives, nowhere is its imprint more vivid than in determining the status of women in a society. This comment uses the International Women’s Day, which is being globally observed today as a peg to briefly outline the linkages. This year’s theme of the International Women’s day, “Equal rights, equal opportunities: progress for all”, is particularly relevant to governance, since upholding women’s political, economic and social rights and striving towards achieving equity and equality of opportunities in a national political context cannot be ensured without effective governance.
Before we examine the relationship, let us be reminded that the status of women in Pakistan is fraught with an ironic and highly polarised paradox, implicit within which are many inequities and inequalities. These are evident in many areas. On the one hand, women are well-represented in parliament, but on the other, exceptions notwithstanding, this largely represents an extension of elite and feudal capture. The professional institutions of higher learning have 50 per cent or higher enrollment of women, but at the same time, there is a literacy gap of 45 per cent between men and women and educational opportunities for rural women remain elusive. Similarly, we see a growing number of women in the traditional, male-dominated professions such as engineering, law, medicine, business, the police and the military. But alongside this trend, the nationally representative labour market statistics speak of gender discrepancies, under-remuneration, systemic impediments to mainstreaming women into the country’s workforce and restricted employment options outside of the informal sectors for socially marginalised and disadvantaged women. Furthermore, it can be argued — and correctly so with reference to a segment belonging to the higher social stratum — that women appear freer than ever to express themselves in the choice of appearance, speech, clothing, arts and entertainment and that they are becoming increasingly progressive, empowered and globalised. However, many others in their close geographic midst are relegated to the strictest confines of purdah, isolation and disempowerment. Moreover, many Pakistani women of today enjoy a better status than most of the Middle Eastern women. But at the same time, these trends, which are true for a minority, haven’t changed some of the deep-seated social behaviours and fundamental prejudices against women, which translate both into discrimination as well as some of the severest forms of violence.
Some may argue that violence against women is globally pervasive. Indeed, it may come as no surprise that 70-90 per cent of women in Pakistan encounter domestic violence and that there are an estimated eight cases of rape every 24 hours. However, what is unfortunately unique to Pakistan is the prevalence of some horrific crimes.
We generally tend to attribute all these abhorrent practices to our tribal and feudal traditions and norms and to the systemic subordination of women vis-à-vis men. That may well be the case to some extent. However, what is not fully appreciated is the role that many other systemic factors play in perpetuating these traditions. Poverty, illiteracy, and social exclusion have a chicken and egg relationship with organised vested interests, of which feudalism is a part, and which promote state capture. A democratic dispensation should be able to break through the strongholds of vested interests, but unfortunately, it sometimes helps to strengthen them.
If the state was governed effectively over the years and Pakistan had sped on the road to development with its economic and social benefits accruing to its population, as has been the case with many Asian countries; if the state had delivered education universally to its population and if an honest government had weakened the organised vested interests that form the bedrock of undesirable tribal and feudal traditions, perhaps heinous crimes such as honour killings and burying alive, would not be condoned as social customs and tribal traditions today. In the absence of these fundamental attributes, which determine the status of women in a society, the impact of legal reforms to improve the status of women introduced by successive governments has been, at best, marginal. Similarly, standalone gender empowerment programmes, measures to enhance the access of women to financial services, and others for skill enhancement have had limited impact whilst the adverse fundamentals remain unchanged. This is the first, and perhaps the most illustrative of the pathways through which failure of governance can be shown to impact the lives of women. Here, it must be appreciated that the term governance is the subject of many interpretations, but in the current sense it is being scoped to the policy making and implementation realms and use of public resources and regulatory power.
The status of women and issues implicit within it, also underscore the importance of another governance impediment — one that relates to ensuring compliance with stated policy norms and standards and enforcement of the laws. In theory, Pakistan ensures respect for women’s rights and fundamental freedoms, as is evidenced by the ratification of many global conventions and declarations. These include the Universal Declaration of Human Rights, the Convention on the Elimination of all forms of Discrimination Against Women (CEDAW) and the UN Declaration on the Elimination of Violence. Pakistan’s constitution has many provisions, which stipulate that “All citizens are equal before the law and are entitled to equal protection of the law” and that “There shall be no discrimination on the basis of sex alone” – Article 25(1) and 25 (2) respectively. Also, Article 35 specifically states that “steps shall be taken to ensure full participation of women in all spheres of national life”.
Several laws are additionally in place, including the Protection of Women (Criminal Laws Amendment) Act 2006. The experts are of the opinion that although all the discriminatory provisions embodied within earlier statutes were not addressed through this statute, it is nevertheless a step in the right direction. Recently, the Women at Workplace Act 2009 has been enacted which aims to “protect women from harassment and (is intended to) make them feel more secure”. In addition, laws are in place to ensure women’s right to inheritance — an important element in the socio economic and political empowerment of women.
However, there are two issues with the implementation of these laws. One set of issues is generic to the implementation of laws in Pakistan. Secondly, the fact that regardless of what the statutes may stipulate, these are conditional on social norms and traditions, which the vast majority of women in the society have to bear with. These issues are further compounded by the biases against women in the criminal justice system — but more important than that, poor performance of the justice system and the relative intransigence with which it dispenses justice to women.
In sum, the status of women is deeply linked with many elements of the society — legal, political, religious, economic, and cultural. Governance can play a key role in shaping most if not all of the societal characteristics through ensuring respect for women’s political, economic and social rights.
So, whilst the enlightened women’s groups draw attention to horrific crimes and discriminatory practices against women — honour killings, live burials, disfigurement by acid, stove deaths, and other undesirable practices, such as childhood marriages, watta satta, vini, marriage to the Quran — to mark the International Women’s Day, we should be reminded that quantum leaps in addressing these challenges can only be made with slow and steady structural solutions.
The writer is the founding- president of the NGO think-tank, Heartfile.
Who is a citizen of India, who decides who is not?
By Jawed Naqvi
Citizenship is a modern concept and a self-limiting notion. A detailed survey of a mix of Indian citizens, including Kashmiris, published by the Economic and Political Weekly (EPW) in its latest edition gives the discussion a more meaningful and complex character than it is traditionally granted. But before we take a look at its findings, it would be useful to bear in mind that references to a foreigner or a “pardesi” in popular idiom – such as folk songs and traditional poetry – are at variance with the issue of citizenship the survey puts under the scanner.
Much like the loose idiom that thus defines a foreigner vis-à-vis a native, Allama Iqbal too was responsible for causing confusion about the idea of India – which he called Hindustan – and about those inhabiting what he declaimed was a fabled region. After declaring in a popular eulogy that Hindustan was the best nation (or country or territory, he doesn’t define it) he simultaneously supported nascent Muslim separatism, which many Pakistanis see as an early endorsement of their nationhood.
“Pardesi” or its Persianised variant “Begaana”, which also refers to a stranger, forms the spine of popular romance across the Hindi/Urdu belt though by today’s standards the foreigner of yore would usually have belonged to a nearby village or precincts of a different but neighbouring principality. “Balam pardesi” or beloved foreigner could thus be referring to a neighbour by today’s perceptions of what constitutes a foreigner. I have been perplexed since as long as I can remember, however, as to why an Indian’s national sentiment, which comes with Indian citizenship, should require him to feel a greater bonding with a Naga from Nagaland, for example, but not with a Nepali whose language Indians understand better.
A popular word used by many Indians working in the Gulf states in the 1980s was “muluk”. And when they said they were off to their “muluk” (distinct from the more refined mulk) for a holiday, they usually meant a village or a qasbah though sometimes also a city or a town, but it seldom conveyed the sense of a country as the word is generally thought to mean.
The EPW survey on how Indians see or don’t see themselves as citizens of their country throws up some unexpected results. The number of Kashmiris who do not consider themselves as Indians is relatively higher than other regional groups except those from the far eastern Tripura state. However, in absolute terms a majority of Kashmiris still acknowledge their Indian citizenship. Similarly, the average of Indian Muslims who accept the parameters of citizenship is lower by four percentage points than the national average of 89 per cent.
A representative sample of 8,000 men and women were interviewed in their own languages by specially trained investigators. The respondents were asked in a neutral manner questions such as – “Some people think of themselves as Indian citizens, while some others do not think of themselves as citizens of India. Talking about yourself, do you consider yourself a citizen of India?”
Who then are the 89 per cent who claim the status of citizens and who are the non-citizens? Says Subrata Mitra who analysed the data for EPW: “In terms of their self-perception, citizens as well as non-citizens do not have any distinct social profile. The higher educated tend to have a slightly greater tendency to see themselves as citizens.”
Those surveyed were asked simple questions. For example did they agree or not that all citizens enjoyed equal rights. Only 44.7 per cent said they did. More than 11 per cent completely disagreed. Were people free to speak their minds without fear? About 39 per cent said they did and 13 per cent totally disagreed. Did people have the power to change the government they did not like? More than 45 per cent felt they did nearly 17 per cent disagreed. Most citizens had basic necessities like food, clothing shelter? As many as 33.4 per cent affirmed it while 12.6 per cent said it was not true.
In the survey, in terms of social characteristics, Mitra sees no clear social profile that would radically distinguish the self-perception as citizens from that of non-citizens. State averages showed a distinct swing though. “Clearly, context matters, for in Jammu and Kashmir, at 19.6 per cent, the average of non-citizens is almost three times that of the national average. In Tripura, it climbs even higher, reaching an astounding 27 per cent.”
The peculiar situation of Jammu and Kashmir marked a deviation from the national average in other ways. “First of all, let this be clear that 69 per cent of people interviewed in Jammu and Kashmir think of themselves as Indian citizens,” says Mitra. “Even among Muslims the percentage is 59 per cent. There is no clear relationship with education; and contrary to the national trend, urban residents are less inclined to count themselves as citizens.”
Mitra says that the national trend of a positive relationship with class does not hold in Kashmir, “with the rich and the very poor pulling level with regard to the probability of counting themselves as citizens of India.”
Within the framework of the findings, “the split between Jammu and the Kashmir Valley carries the shadow of the separatist movement”. In other words 83 per cent of the residents of Jammu count themselves as citizens of India compared to 53 per cent for the Kashmir Valley.”
In Jammu and Kashmir, according to Mitra, men perform better than women when it comes to the strength of citizenship. However, the rural respondents perform better than their urban counterparts. The upper castes of Jammu and Kashmir (most of them from Jammu region) perform better whereas the proportion of low citizenship is “alarmingly high” among Muslims.
In the big picture there are even more glaring differences in the way Kashmiris see themselves vis-à-vis India and how others approach the issue. The same scale that shows 43.6 per cent of the national sample to be in the category of ‘high’ citizenship reveals that in Jammu and Kashmir, only 20.2 per cent are at the highest level of citizenship.
The survey looks at a comparative data between Kashmiri Muslims and Muslims from the rest of India. “Strong citizenship among educated Muslims outside Jammu and Kashmir reaches 59.4 per cent, compared with to 54.2 per cent for all Indians with a comparable level of education. Equally surprising is the effect of age: young Muslims (up to 25 years) outside Jammu and Kashmir contain 52.3 per cent strong citizens compared to 44.6 per cent for Indians as a whole.”
It sounds like an interesting survey and probably needs to be followed up more scrupulously. Would it however make much difference to the way Muslims – Kashmiris and non-Kashmiris – are perceived in the paradigm of them and us. Or as the songs described the pardesis and the begaanas.
Citizenship is a modern concept and a self-limiting notion. A detailed survey of a mix of Indian citizens, including Kashmiris, published by the Economic and Political Weekly (EPW) in its latest edition gives the discussion a more meaningful and complex character than it is traditionally granted. But before we take a look at its findings, it would be useful to bear in mind that references to a foreigner or a “pardesi” in popular idiom – such as folk songs and traditional poetry – are at variance with the issue of citizenship the survey puts under the scanner.
Much like the loose idiom that thus defines a foreigner vis-à-vis a native, Allama Iqbal too was responsible for causing confusion about the idea of India – which he called Hindustan – and about those inhabiting what he declaimed was a fabled region. After declaring in a popular eulogy that Hindustan was the best nation (or country or territory, he doesn’t define it) he simultaneously supported nascent Muslim separatism, which many Pakistanis see as an early endorsement of their nationhood.
“Pardesi” or its Persianised variant “Begaana”, which also refers to a stranger, forms the spine of popular romance across the Hindi/Urdu belt though by today’s standards the foreigner of yore would usually have belonged to a nearby village or precincts of a different but neighbouring principality. “Balam pardesi” or beloved foreigner could thus be referring to a neighbour by today’s perceptions of what constitutes a foreigner. I have been perplexed since as long as I can remember, however, as to why an Indian’s national sentiment, which comes with Indian citizenship, should require him to feel a greater bonding with a Naga from Nagaland, for example, but not with a Nepali whose language Indians understand better.
A popular word used by many Indians working in the Gulf states in the 1980s was “muluk”. And when they said they were off to their “muluk” (distinct from the more refined mulk) for a holiday, they usually meant a village or a qasbah though sometimes also a city or a town, but it seldom conveyed the sense of a country as the word is generally thought to mean.
The EPW survey on how Indians see or don’t see themselves as citizens of their country throws up some unexpected results. The number of Kashmiris who do not consider themselves as Indians is relatively higher than other regional groups except those from the far eastern Tripura state. However, in absolute terms a majority of Kashmiris still acknowledge their Indian citizenship. Similarly, the average of Indian Muslims who accept the parameters of citizenship is lower by four percentage points than the national average of 89 per cent.
A representative sample of 8,000 men and women were interviewed in their own languages by specially trained investigators. The respondents were asked in a neutral manner questions such as – “Some people think of themselves as Indian citizens, while some others do not think of themselves as citizens of India. Talking about yourself, do you consider yourself a citizen of India?”
Who then are the 89 per cent who claim the status of citizens and who are the non-citizens? Says Subrata Mitra who analysed the data for EPW: “In terms of their self-perception, citizens as well as non-citizens do not have any distinct social profile. The higher educated tend to have a slightly greater tendency to see themselves as citizens.”
Those surveyed were asked simple questions. For example did they agree or not that all citizens enjoyed equal rights. Only 44.7 per cent said they did. More than 11 per cent completely disagreed. Were people free to speak their minds without fear? About 39 per cent said they did and 13 per cent totally disagreed. Did people have the power to change the government they did not like? More than 45 per cent felt they did nearly 17 per cent disagreed. Most citizens had basic necessities like food, clothing shelter? As many as 33.4 per cent affirmed it while 12.6 per cent said it was not true.
In the survey, in terms of social characteristics, Mitra sees no clear social profile that would radically distinguish the self-perception as citizens from that of non-citizens. State averages showed a distinct swing though. “Clearly, context matters, for in Jammu and Kashmir, at 19.6 per cent, the average of non-citizens is almost three times that of the national average. In Tripura, it climbs even higher, reaching an astounding 27 per cent.”
The peculiar situation of Jammu and Kashmir marked a deviation from the national average in other ways. “First of all, let this be clear that 69 per cent of people interviewed in Jammu and Kashmir think of themselves as Indian citizens,” says Mitra. “Even among Muslims the percentage is 59 per cent. There is no clear relationship with education; and contrary to the national trend, urban residents are less inclined to count themselves as citizens.”
Mitra says that the national trend of a positive relationship with class does not hold in Kashmir, “with the rich and the very poor pulling level with regard to the probability of counting themselves as citizens of India.”
Within the framework of the findings, “the split between Jammu and the Kashmir Valley carries the shadow of the separatist movement”. In other words 83 per cent of the residents of Jammu count themselves as citizens of India compared to 53 per cent for the Kashmir Valley.”
In Jammu and Kashmir, according to Mitra, men perform better than women when it comes to the strength of citizenship. However, the rural respondents perform better than their urban counterparts. The upper castes of Jammu and Kashmir (most of them from Jammu region) perform better whereas the proportion of low citizenship is “alarmingly high” among Muslims.
In the big picture there are even more glaring differences in the way Kashmiris see themselves vis-à-vis India and how others approach the issue. The same scale that shows 43.6 per cent of the national sample to be in the category of ‘high’ citizenship reveals that in Jammu and Kashmir, only 20.2 per cent are at the highest level of citizenship.
The survey looks at a comparative data between Kashmiri Muslims and Muslims from the rest of India. “Strong citizenship among educated Muslims outside Jammu and Kashmir reaches 59.4 per cent, compared with to 54.2 per cent for all Indians with a comparable level of education. Equally surprising is the effect of age: young Muslims (up to 25 years) outside Jammu and Kashmir contain 52.3 per cent strong citizens compared to 44.6 per cent for Indians as a whole.”
It sounds like an interesting survey and probably needs to be followed up more scrupulously. Would it however make much difference to the way Muslims – Kashmiris and non-Kashmiris – are perceived in the paradigm of them and us. Or as the songs described the pardesis and the begaanas.
Wednesday, March 3, 2010
Scope for hope on the subcontinent?
By Mahir Ali
There is precious little risk of anyone putting too much store by last week’s talks between the foreign secretaries of India and Pakistan.
Although Nirupama Rao and Salman Bashir parted on a vaguely civil note by agreeing that the channels of communication would remain open, there has thus far been little indication of plans for further meetings.
It has been speculated that Rao could visit Islamabad this month, ahead of the opportunity for prime ministerial talks on the sidelines of the Saarc summit in Bhutan in April, but the insistence of both sides on differing agendas for future encounters sharply diminishes the scope for optimism. As far as New Delhi is concerned, terrorism needs to be tackled before meaningful negotiations can be conducted on any other matter. Islamabad, on the other hand, has been seeking a return to the so-called composite dialogue, whereby a range of subjects can simultaneously be addressed.
Although the resumption of a broad dialogue would indeed be welcome, Pakistan evidently finds it difficult to understand the extent to which India’s mood has been soured by the November 2008 terrorist rampage in Mumbai, when a fourth war between the neighbours was narrowly avoided — not least because Prime Minister Manmohan Singh was adamantly opposed to it.
A surprisingly large number of otherwise rational Indians were convinced at the time that the most appropriate response would be to ‘teach Pakistan a lesson’ through military means, unwilling to recognise that a conflagration was likely to unleash terrorism on a considerably wider scale, or provoke a nuclear exchange, with unspeakable consequences.
The sensible alternative was to take up the Pakistani government’s offer of cooperation, despite the suspicion that not much — or at least not enough — would come of it. In Delhi last week, Pakistan’s foreign secretary was handed another three dossiers containing information and demands related to Islamist militants suspected of involvement in terrorist activities on Indian soil — and it is hardly likely that Bashir’s description of a previous dossier as ‘literature’ rather than evidence went down well among his hosts. He also expressed his resentment over being ‘lectured’ on terrorism, pointing out that Pakistan had ‘suffered many, many hundreds of Mumbais’.
That is not, strictly speaking, an accurate claim. Terrorists have indeed inflicted a series of wounds on Pakistan, many of them serious, all of them painful. But the equivalent of Mumbai would be a bunch of armed Indian fanatics wreaking havoc in Pakistan’s commercial centre or another large city. The fury such an incident would unleash would undoubtedly be of a different order of magnitude, given that — to put it euphemistically — India and Pakistan have a bit of a history.
This history cannot be wished away. That does not mean it can’t be overcome. But the task is obviously rendered much harder by instances such as the 26/11 attacks in Mumbai, followed by the impression that the authorities in Pakistan have been lackadaisical in pursuing the perpetrators. The constant complaints about insufficient evidence from India are muddied by the fact that it ought to be possible to gather more than enough incriminating evidence within the country where the plot was hatched.
What’s more, there have been indications that 26/11 wasn’t a one-off. Responsibility for the recent bomb blast at the German Bakery in Pune has been claimed by an organisation calling itself Lashkar-i-Taiba al-Alami. While the credibility of the claim — and any connection with Pakistan — has yet to be established, it isn’t exactly unnatural for people to jump to conclusions, not least because a series of sports fixtures in India, from the current Hockey World Cup to the Commonwealth Games in October, face terrorist threats.
Hopefully, if they turn out to be anything more than empty boasts, the plots will be foiled. But circumstances such as these should help to clarify why New Delhi’s insistence on attaching primacy to terrorism isn’t purely a product of paranoia.
It is also well worth remembering that, not all that long ago, a decidedly positive strain in bilateral relations, at a time when rightwing governments were in power on both sides of the border, was decisively thwarted by Pakistan’s stupendously ill-advised Kargil misadventure, spearheaded not by a terrorist outfit such as Lashkar-i-Taiba, but by the army — which, tragically, has more or less throughout its existence perceived the confrontation with India as its primary raison d’être.
Of course, Pakistan too has its dossiers of complaints on subjects ranging from water flow to purported Indian assistance to nationalist insurgents in Balochistan and even to elements among the Taliban, the latter supported by ‘photographic evidence’. It is hardly unknown for the two sides to lend succour to separatist movements on each other’s terrain, but it would so obviously be self-defeating for India to help the Taliban in any way that the charge seems like little more than a red herring (although one mustn’t forget that realpolitik occasionally overrides logic and produces very strange bedfellows).
Deeply ingrained prejudices are, of course, not exclusive to either protagonist. Nor is political posturing. It appears that pressure from Washington played a decisive role in rekindling a dialogue between India and Pakistan. If so, that’s a nudge in the right direction, even it’s based chiefly on Uncle Sam’s own interests — and these, deplorably, include increased arms sales to both countries. However, even if the two sides were eventually to kiss and make up under a heart-shaped umbrella provided by the US State Department, the residual venom in their arteries would make it at best an artificial and temporary conciliation.
A far more desirable alternative would be a permanent peace and goodwill treaty that springs from the heart, from the gut instinct that it is profoundly in the interests of people on both sides of the border to overcome the post-traumatic stress disorder that is arguably the cruellest legacy of partition. Will New Delhi and Islamabad ever be able to muster the reciprocal audacity required for such a mutually beneficial feat? At the moment, the most optimistic answer one can come up with is an equivocal ‘maybe’.
There is precious little risk of anyone putting too much store by last week’s talks between the foreign secretaries of India and Pakistan.
Although Nirupama Rao and Salman Bashir parted on a vaguely civil note by agreeing that the channels of communication would remain open, there has thus far been little indication of plans for further meetings.
It has been speculated that Rao could visit Islamabad this month, ahead of the opportunity for prime ministerial talks on the sidelines of the Saarc summit in Bhutan in April, but the insistence of both sides on differing agendas for future encounters sharply diminishes the scope for optimism. As far as New Delhi is concerned, terrorism needs to be tackled before meaningful negotiations can be conducted on any other matter. Islamabad, on the other hand, has been seeking a return to the so-called composite dialogue, whereby a range of subjects can simultaneously be addressed.
Although the resumption of a broad dialogue would indeed be welcome, Pakistan evidently finds it difficult to understand the extent to which India’s mood has been soured by the November 2008 terrorist rampage in Mumbai, when a fourth war between the neighbours was narrowly avoided — not least because Prime Minister Manmohan Singh was adamantly opposed to it.
A surprisingly large number of otherwise rational Indians were convinced at the time that the most appropriate response would be to ‘teach Pakistan a lesson’ through military means, unwilling to recognise that a conflagration was likely to unleash terrorism on a considerably wider scale, or provoke a nuclear exchange, with unspeakable consequences.
The sensible alternative was to take up the Pakistani government’s offer of cooperation, despite the suspicion that not much — or at least not enough — would come of it. In Delhi last week, Pakistan’s foreign secretary was handed another three dossiers containing information and demands related to Islamist militants suspected of involvement in terrorist activities on Indian soil — and it is hardly likely that Bashir’s description of a previous dossier as ‘literature’ rather than evidence went down well among his hosts. He also expressed his resentment over being ‘lectured’ on terrorism, pointing out that Pakistan had ‘suffered many, many hundreds of Mumbais’.
That is not, strictly speaking, an accurate claim. Terrorists have indeed inflicted a series of wounds on Pakistan, many of them serious, all of them painful. But the equivalent of Mumbai would be a bunch of armed Indian fanatics wreaking havoc in Pakistan’s commercial centre or another large city. The fury such an incident would unleash would undoubtedly be of a different order of magnitude, given that — to put it euphemistically — India and Pakistan have a bit of a history.
This history cannot be wished away. That does not mean it can’t be overcome. But the task is obviously rendered much harder by instances such as the 26/11 attacks in Mumbai, followed by the impression that the authorities in Pakistan have been lackadaisical in pursuing the perpetrators. The constant complaints about insufficient evidence from India are muddied by the fact that it ought to be possible to gather more than enough incriminating evidence within the country where the plot was hatched.
What’s more, there have been indications that 26/11 wasn’t a one-off. Responsibility for the recent bomb blast at the German Bakery in Pune has been claimed by an organisation calling itself Lashkar-i-Taiba al-Alami. While the credibility of the claim — and any connection with Pakistan — has yet to be established, it isn’t exactly unnatural for people to jump to conclusions, not least because a series of sports fixtures in India, from the current Hockey World Cup to the Commonwealth Games in October, face terrorist threats.
Hopefully, if they turn out to be anything more than empty boasts, the plots will be foiled. But circumstances such as these should help to clarify why New Delhi’s insistence on attaching primacy to terrorism isn’t purely a product of paranoia.
It is also well worth remembering that, not all that long ago, a decidedly positive strain in bilateral relations, at a time when rightwing governments were in power on both sides of the border, was decisively thwarted by Pakistan’s stupendously ill-advised Kargil misadventure, spearheaded not by a terrorist outfit such as Lashkar-i-Taiba, but by the army — which, tragically, has more or less throughout its existence perceived the confrontation with India as its primary raison d’être.
Of course, Pakistan too has its dossiers of complaints on subjects ranging from water flow to purported Indian assistance to nationalist insurgents in Balochistan and even to elements among the Taliban, the latter supported by ‘photographic evidence’. It is hardly unknown for the two sides to lend succour to separatist movements on each other’s terrain, but it would so obviously be self-defeating for India to help the Taliban in any way that the charge seems like little more than a red herring (although one mustn’t forget that realpolitik occasionally overrides logic and produces very strange bedfellows).
Deeply ingrained prejudices are, of course, not exclusive to either protagonist. Nor is political posturing. It appears that pressure from Washington played a decisive role in rekindling a dialogue between India and Pakistan. If so, that’s a nudge in the right direction, even it’s based chiefly on Uncle Sam’s own interests — and these, deplorably, include increased arms sales to both countries. However, even if the two sides were eventually to kiss and make up under a heart-shaped umbrella provided by the US State Department, the residual venom in their arteries would make it at best an artificial and temporary conciliation.
A far more desirable alternative would be a permanent peace and goodwill treaty that springs from the heart, from the gut instinct that it is profoundly in the interests of people on both sides of the border to overcome the post-traumatic stress disorder that is arguably the cruellest legacy of partition. Will New Delhi and Islamabad ever be able to muster the reciprocal audacity required for such a mutually beneficial feat? At the moment, the most optimistic answer one can come up with is an equivocal ‘maybe’.
Turkey takes on its ‘deep state’
By Irfan Husain
I first went to Turkey as a young student in the early Sixties, and have returned many times to meet old friends, and explore this fascinating country. And while it has much to offer tourists, my attachment to it goes far deeper than the interest a casual visitor takes in a place he is travelling through briefly.
Over the years, I have followed the twists and turns of its politics, and have been happy to see the huge economic progress Turkey has made. I remember well the failed coup launched by the commandant of the military academy in 1963: a friend and I sneaked out of our university dormitory at dawn despite the curfew to watch as government troops ruthlessly put down the cadets. One was shot a dozen feet away from me.
Against this backdrop, the current tussle between the Turkish defence forces and the government carries echoes from the distant past. Ever since the Kemalist Revolution changed Turkey’s direction after the First World War, and declared it a republic after centuries of being the home of the Islamic Caliphate, the military has been seen as the guardian of Mustafa Kemal Pasha’s secular, Western vision.
This worldview is enshrined in the Turkish constitution, and any attempt to subvert it is a crime. It was under this constitutional provision that Prime Minister Tayyip Erdogan’s ruling AK (Justice and Development) Party has almost been disbarred from governing by the Constitutional Court. A mildly Islamic party, AK has stunned the secular establishment by winning two elections in a row with thumping majorities.
The party’s success reflects the ascendancy the conservative middle-class has acquired. The economy’s steady improvement has resulted in a transformation of the power balance, with the Westernised Istanbul elites now having to watch as their devout Anatolian cousins have captured the political high ground.
Although Erdogan has been mindful of the military’s sensitivities, he has been forced into the present confrontation by the constant destablization efforts he has had to contend with. Shadowy members of the so-called ‘deep state’ have agitated against what they see as an effort to Islamize Turkey. Journalists, politicians and businessmen have joined this campaign.
Indeed, the army openly expressed its opposition to the election of Abdullah Gul as the President as his wife wears the hijab, and under Turkish law, a woman wearing the headscarf is not allowed to attend official functions. Given these slights and provocations, it is easy to see why the government has chosen to counter-attack, using leaked details of a planned coup in 2003. A number of serving and retired military officers, including several generals, have been arrested as the investigation continues to reveal more lurid details. This follows on the heels of an earlier coup plot (known as the Ergenekon plot) in which scores of officers are being tried.
These episodes reveal two major fault-lines in Turkey’s political landscape. The first one is the growing divide between the urban, sophisticated elites and the conservative, but increasingly rich, middle class living in small towns and new suburbs. Secular Turks have wielded power, backed by the army, for decades, and now find it hard to come to terms with the changed political reality.
Most visitors to Turkey see Istanbul and the beautiful coastline along the Aegean Sea, but overlook the Anatolian heartland. For the foreseeable future, this is where political power will reside, barring the remote possibility of a military coup. Although the AK party has been hurt by scandals and charges of mismanagement, the truth is that it has been very successful in its handling of the economy.
The one thing that has united both sections of Turkish society is the burning desire to become members of the European Union. Over the years, their frustration at Brussels’s foot-dragging over its application has increased. Turks have watched angrily as others from East Europe have jumped the queue to join the Union, while Turkish aspirations have been placed on hold. Nevertheless, this government has skilfully used the requirements for joining the EU to chip away at the army’s powers. The need to implement the EU’s human rights clauses has served as a useful tool.
For the defence forces, this ongoing struggle has been a sobering experience. For senior officers to be arrested under the glare of publicity is an unprecedented humiliation for a proud and powerful institution. Just a few years ago, this political drama would have been unthinkable.
The military is one of the few remaining forces in the world to retain compulsory service by all adult male Turks. Thus, it is truly a national institution in which every citizen serves. But as the majority moves away from Ataturk’s secularist ideals, the generals and the ‘deep state’ become more and more isolated from the mainstream.
This brings us to the second major fault-line: the growing gap between the political leadership and the military high command. Long accustomed to calling the shots where defence and foreign policy were concerned, the generals now find they are subservient to the elected politicians they despise.
A case in point is the refusal to allow Turkish soil to be used by the Americans during their invasion of Iraq in 2003. Membership of Nato and a close alliance with the US has been a cornerstone of Turkish defence policy for decades, and both American and Turkish generals were aghast when the National Assembly voted to deny facilities to the invading forces.
Another major shift caused by the assertive civilian government is a distancing from Israel. Traditionally, the Turkish military cooperated closely with the Israeli Defence Forces, conducting joint exercises, and permitting Israeli pilots to train in Turkish airspace. But a recent incident in which the Turkish ambassador to Tel Aviv was humiliated by the Israeli foreign minister has soured relations between the two countries, a trend begun when the Turkish PM publicly rebuked the Israeli president for his country’s outrageous conduct in Gaza last year.
It is clear that power has seeped away from the secular elites of Istanbul and Ankara; simultaneously, the High Command is feeling the ground shift from under its feet. Both developments are good for Turkey’s future as a modern, democratic state. My friends in Istanbul might feel their lifestyle is being threatened by the steady encroachment of conservative forces, but that’s what democracy is about.
Having lived there as a boy, Musharraf has expressed his admiration for Turkey on more than one occasion. In later life, the Turkish military’s unquestioned power no doubt made him see the country as a role model for Pakistan. But what is much more relevant for us now is the way the military has been made to accept that it is subordinate to the elected government. Even though this remains a distant goal for us, this is what we need to strive for.
I first went to Turkey as a young student in the early Sixties, and have returned many times to meet old friends, and explore this fascinating country. And while it has much to offer tourists, my attachment to it goes far deeper than the interest a casual visitor takes in a place he is travelling through briefly.
Over the years, I have followed the twists and turns of its politics, and have been happy to see the huge economic progress Turkey has made. I remember well the failed coup launched by the commandant of the military academy in 1963: a friend and I sneaked out of our university dormitory at dawn despite the curfew to watch as government troops ruthlessly put down the cadets. One was shot a dozen feet away from me.
Against this backdrop, the current tussle between the Turkish defence forces and the government carries echoes from the distant past. Ever since the Kemalist Revolution changed Turkey’s direction after the First World War, and declared it a republic after centuries of being the home of the Islamic Caliphate, the military has been seen as the guardian of Mustafa Kemal Pasha’s secular, Western vision.
This worldview is enshrined in the Turkish constitution, and any attempt to subvert it is a crime. It was under this constitutional provision that Prime Minister Tayyip Erdogan’s ruling AK (Justice and Development) Party has almost been disbarred from governing by the Constitutional Court. A mildly Islamic party, AK has stunned the secular establishment by winning two elections in a row with thumping majorities.
The party’s success reflects the ascendancy the conservative middle-class has acquired. The economy’s steady improvement has resulted in a transformation of the power balance, with the Westernised Istanbul elites now having to watch as their devout Anatolian cousins have captured the political high ground.
Although Erdogan has been mindful of the military’s sensitivities, he has been forced into the present confrontation by the constant destablization efforts he has had to contend with. Shadowy members of the so-called ‘deep state’ have agitated against what they see as an effort to Islamize Turkey. Journalists, politicians and businessmen have joined this campaign.
Indeed, the army openly expressed its opposition to the election of Abdullah Gul as the President as his wife wears the hijab, and under Turkish law, a woman wearing the headscarf is not allowed to attend official functions. Given these slights and provocations, it is easy to see why the government has chosen to counter-attack, using leaked details of a planned coup in 2003. A number of serving and retired military officers, including several generals, have been arrested as the investigation continues to reveal more lurid details. This follows on the heels of an earlier coup plot (known as the Ergenekon plot) in which scores of officers are being tried.
These episodes reveal two major fault-lines in Turkey’s political landscape. The first one is the growing divide between the urban, sophisticated elites and the conservative, but increasingly rich, middle class living in small towns and new suburbs. Secular Turks have wielded power, backed by the army, for decades, and now find it hard to come to terms with the changed political reality.
Most visitors to Turkey see Istanbul and the beautiful coastline along the Aegean Sea, but overlook the Anatolian heartland. For the foreseeable future, this is where political power will reside, barring the remote possibility of a military coup. Although the AK party has been hurt by scandals and charges of mismanagement, the truth is that it has been very successful in its handling of the economy.
The one thing that has united both sections of Turkish society is the burning desire to become members of the European Union. Over the years, their frustration at Brussels’s foot-dragging over its application has increased. Turks have watched angrily as others from East Europe have jumped the queue to join the Union, while Turkish aspirations have been placed on hold. Nevertheless, this government has skilfully used the requirements for joining the EU to chip away at the army’s powers. The need to implement the EU’s human rights clauses has served as a useful tool.
For the defence forces, this ongoing struggle has been a sobering experience. For senior officers to be arrested under the glare of publicity is an unprecedented humiliation for a proud and powerful institution. Just a few years ago, this political drama would have been unthinkable.
The military is one of the few remaining forces in the world to retain compulsory service by all adult male Turks. Thus, it is truly a national institution in which every citizen serves. But as the majority moves away from Ataturk’s secularist ideals, the generals and the ‘deep state’ become more and more isolated from the mainstream.
This brings us to the second major fault-line: the growing gap between the political leadership and the military high command. Long accustomed to calling the shots where defence and foreign policy were concerned, the generals now find they are subservient to the elected politicians they despise.
A case in point is the refusal to allow Turkish soil to be used by the Americans during their invasion of Iraq in 2003. Membership of Nato and a close alliance with the US has been a cornerstone of Turkish defence policy for decades, and both American and Turkish generals were aghast when the National Assembly voted to deny facilities to the invading forces.
Another major shift caused by the assertive civilian government is a distancing from Israel. Traditionally, the Turkish military cooperated closely with the Israeli Defence Forces, conducting joint exercises, and permitting Israeli pilots to train in Turkish airspace. But a recent incident in which the Turkish ambassador to Tel Aviv was humiliated by the Israeli foreign minister has soured relations between the two countries, a trend begun when the Turkish PM publicly rebuked the Israeli president for his country’s outrageous conduct in Gaza last year.
It is clear that power has seeped away from the secular elites of Istanbul and Ankara; simultaneously, the High Command is feeling the ground shift from under its feet. Both developments are good for Turkey’s future as a modern, democratic state. My friends in Istanbul might feel their lifestyle is being threatened by the steady encroachment of conservative forces, but that’s what democracy is about.
Having lived there as a boy, Musharraf has expressed his admiration for Turkey on more than one occasion. In later life, the Turkish military’s unquestioned power no doubt made him see the country as a role model for Pakistan. But what is much more relevant for us now is the way the military has been made to accept that it is subordinate to the elected government. Even though this remains a distant goal for us, this is what we need to strive for.
Plastic bags playing havoc with environment
By Khawar Ghumman
ISLAMABAD: Despite the existence of laws banning production and sale of polythene bags in three provinces of the country, the industry continues to flourish, choking drainage systems in major cities and blotting the landscape in every nook and corner of the country.
Ironically, the issue did come up for discussion more than once in the present National Assembly, but failed to attract attention of lawmakers who let it go without seeking any policy statement by the environment minister.
Talking to Dawn, a senior official of the environment ministry said there was no dearth of laws to control unauthorised use of polythene bags, but it needed political will on the part of government. The official said Pakistan was probably the only country in the world where polythene bags were used with impunity.
The official argued that the federal government needed to come up with a plan to fight the menace of plastic shopping bags.
Led by Balochistan, Punjab and Sindh had enacted necessary laws to discourage use of plastic shopping bags, but circumstantial evidence suggests there is no let up, and the industry continues to pollute the environment. The government of the NWFP is yet to do necessary legislation in this regard.
According to official documents available with Dawn, the Balochistan government was the first one to promulgate an ordinance on March 17, 2001, to prohibit the sale and use of polythene bags in the province.
Next was the government of Punjab which promulgated an ordinance on Feb 18, 2002, to prohibit manufacture, sale, use and import of black polythene bags or any other polythene bag below 15 micron thickness in the province. However, anyone who has recently travelled on the G.T. road could easily see plastic bags littering both sides of the road.
Taking a cue from Punjab and Balochistan, the Sindh government promulgated an ordinance on Feb 1, 2006, to prohibit, manufacture, sale and use of black polythene bags including polythene bags below 30 micron thickness in the province.
The ministry of environment has also proposed legislation to ban non-biodegradable bags and in their place encourage oxo-biodegradable bags. The private and public sector organisations, including utility stores, have been asked to introduce biodegradable bags.
The ministry has also recommended to the Federal Board of Revenue (FBR) that duty on import of oxo-biodegradable additive for the manufacturing of biodegradable bags be reduced from 6 to 0 per cent.
Polythene bags cause environmental pollution if solid waste containing these bags is not collected and disposed of properly. Leftover used plastic shoppers chock drainage system and create an unaesthetic view of environment. The practice of burning them produces dioxins and furans, which are persistent organic pollutants (POPs) and extremely harmful to human and animal health.
ISLAMABAD: Despite the existence of laws banning production and sale of polythene bags in three provinces of the country, the industry continues to flourish, choking drainage systems in major cities and blotting the landscape in every nook and corner of the country.
Ironically, the issue did come up for discussion more than once in the present National Assembly, but failed to attract attention of lawmakers who let it go without seeking any policy statement by the environment minister.
Talking to Dawn, a senior official of the environment ministry said there was no dearth of laws to control unauthorised use of polythene bags, but it needed political will on the part of government. The official said Pakistan was probably the only country in the world where polythene bags were used with impunity.
The official argued that the federal government needed to come up with a plan to fight the menace of plastic shopping bags.
Led by Balochistan, Punjab and Sindh had enacted necessary laws to discourage use of plastic shopping bags, but circumstantial evidence suggests there is no let up, and the industry continues to pollute the environment. The government of the NWFP is yet to do necessary legislation in this regard.
According to official documents available with Dawn, the Balochistan government was the first one to promulgate an ordinance on March 17, 2001, to prohibit the sale and use of polythene bags in the province.
Next was the government of Punjab which promulgated an ordinance on Feb 18, 2002, to prohibit manufacture, sale, use and import of black polythene bags or any other polythene bag below 15 micron thickness in the province. However, anyone who has recently travelled on the G.T. road could easily see plastic bags littering both sides of the road.
Taking a cue from Punjab and Balochistan, the Sindh government promulgated an ordinance on Feb 1, 2006, to prohibit, manufacture, sale and use of black polythene bags including polythene bags below 30 micron thickness in the province.
The ministry of environment has also proposed legislation to ban non-biodegradable bags and in their place encourage oxo-biodegradable bags. The private and public sector organisations, including utility stores, have been asked to introduce biodegradable bags.
The ministry has also recommended to the Federal Board of Revenue (FBR) that duty on import of oxo-biodegradable additive for the manufacturing of biodegradable bags be reduced from 6 to 0 per cent.
Polythene bags cause environmental pollution if solid waste containing these bags is not collected and disposed of properly. Leftover used plastic shoppers chock drainage system and create an unaesthetic view of environment. The practice of burning them produces dioxins and furans, which are persistent organic pollutants (POPs) and extremely harmful to human and animal health.
Tuesday, March 2, 2010
The ‘happening place’
By Kamran Shafi
“PAKISTAN is the most happening place in the world where there is never a dull moment.” So pronounced the Commando to a “packed audience” at Chatham House in London, to much laughter and mirth.
‘Happening place’ did the man call our poor and bleeding country that is reeling under the onslaught of murderous yahoos who do as they will, wherever they will?
Pakistan is a ‘happening place’ when a women’s bazaar in Peshawar is attacked and over 100 defenceless women and children are blown away to kingdom come? Or when Lahore’s Moon Market is wantonly attacked and over 60 innocents, again mainly women and children, die needlessly and cruelly? Or when an army mosque in the heart of Rawalpindi cantonment is assaulted by people who knew what they were doing, and who identified the children of senior army officers and then brutally killed them? Or and indeed, when a bus full of junior ISI functionaries, clerks and the like is blown up, again in Rawalpindi cantonment?
There is ‘never a dull day’ in Pakistan when according to the latest estimates of none other than the ISPR, 30,457 Pakistanis — 21,672 civilians and 8,785 military personnel — have been killed so far in the war against terror; when in 2009 alone over 10,000 people were killed; when in 2009 and the first two months of 2010, 78 officers and 2,273 soldiers of the Pakistan Army were killed and 6,512 injured, many of them horribly disfigured and maimed?
Never a dull day, what?
Ask the mothers and the fathers who have lost their sons and daughters; ask the sisters and brothers and the sons and daughters who have lost their loved ones to this mad orgy of killing by fiends in human shape. Fiends, let us quickly point out, who were suckled at the ample breast of the security establishment that the man himself headed for far too long. A period, let us also not forget, in which they were allowed to grow stronger and stronger still, due to his own disastrous policies of running with the hare and hunting with the hounds.
Should he not be deeply ashamed of himself for talking so lightly of the hellfire our poor country is passing through?
But wait. Gen Musharraf also said: “I love Pakistan and I would do anything for Pakistan. I took this oath at the Kakul Academy. For Pakistan one would be prepared to do anything.” Hang on a minute. He took an oath at the ‘Kakul Academy’ did he say?
What was the Kakul Academy to him, a man who violated one of the most basic precepts, an almost holy covenant, upon which every military academy is based: that of the honour system? When as a so-called gentleman cadet, he cheated in the nine-mile run and boasted about it in his nonsensical and ludicrous In the line of fire, even the title of which was plagiarised from one of Clint Eastwood’s films of the same name? (Stand up, Humayun Gauhar).
For the information of the ‘bloody civilians’ who might be reading this, a cadet would be relegated for taking a packet of cigarettes from the mess bar without signing for it.For cheating on the scale that Musharraf indulged in i.e. taking a shortcut in an endurance test, the punishment would be no less than being disgracefully drummed out of the academy after the badges of cadet rank (if any), shoulder flashes and cap badge, were cut off in front of the whole First Pakistan Battalion formed up on the parade ground.
So what ‘oath’, what ‘academy’ does he talk about? I should have thought that the ‘happening place where there is never a dull day’ would be Edgware Road, London and its shisha bars, where he lurks these days and not poor, bleeding Pakistan.
By the by, could he please explain even at this late date especially now that he is, as we say in the vernacular, ‘weighing his wings’ before jumping into Pakistani politics (!), why Adm Shahid Karimullah, the ambassador of Pakistan to Saudi Arabia at the time, was present, hands respectfully folded in his lap, as Bilal Musharraf and his boss, one Asad Jamal, chairman and CEO of ePlanet Ventures, Global Venture Capital, were meeting Prince Alwaleed bin Talal?
Meanwhile, back at the ranch, the federal government is going on making a laughing stock of itself by repeatedly first doing something stupid and then when the going gets tough, making shameless U-turns. And then doing nothing about the flunky/functionary who put it in difficulty in the first place.
Witness the judges’ appointment issue and the embarrassing loss of face the government had to suffer. I am told by people who should know that Babar Awan (yes, of the judges’ restoration fiasco fame) was principally to blame — surprise, surprise. Yet, the man continues as heretofore as law minister. Whilst one supports democratic rule by the elected representatives of the people one has to condemn such lackadaisical governance.
However, the politicians will be sorted out by the people at the next elections if they are perceived to be inept etc; what upsets me is that no one, not the government, not the opposition reacted when the army announced last week that the COAS needs no such approval to give extensions in service to generals.
What is the difference between giving extensions and promoting generals when an extension can put someone within reach of the next higher rank obviously at the cost of other officers waiting in line to be promoted?
If the army arrogates more and more powers to itself at GHQ outside the writ of the government, nothing is going to work. Doesn’t the opposition understand that whilst it may snigger at the present government’s discomfort when the army takes it head-on (such as the ill-considered public outburst of ‘fury’ by the generals at the Kerry-Lugar Bill, whilst themselves asking for American aid the very next week), it might be the next government of Pakistan. How will it rein in the (already) rampant army then?
As pleaded many times in this column, might one say to the political forces to come together on the main principles of governance, the first of which should be the elected government’s suzerainty over all the departments of the state?
“PAKISTAN is the most happening place in the world where there is never a dull moment.” So pronounced the Commando to a “packed audience” at Chatham House in London, to much laughter and mirth.
‘Happening place’ did the man call our poor and bleeding country that is reeling under the onslaught of murderous yahoos who do as they will, wherever they will?
Pakistan is a ‘happening place’ when a women’s bazaar in Peshawar is attacked and over 100 defenceless women and children are blown away to kingdom come? Or when Lahore’s Moon Market is wantonly attacked and over 60 innocents, again mainly women and children, die needlessly and cruelly? Or when an army mosque in the heart of Rawalpindi cantonment is assaulted by people who knew what they were doing, and who identified the children of senior army officers and then brutally killed them? Or and indeed, when a bus full of junior ISI functionaries, clerks and the like is blown up, again in Rawalpindi cantonment?
There is ‘never a dull day’ in Pakistan when according to the latest estimates of none other than the ISPR, 30,457 Pakistanis — 21,672 civilians and 8,785 military personnel — have been killed so far in the war against terror; when in 2009 alone over 10,000 people were killed; when in 2009 and the first two months of 2010, 78 officers and 2,273 soldiers of the Pakistan Army were killed and 6,512 injured, many of them horribly disfigured and maimed?
Never a dull day, what?
Ask the mothers and the fathers who have lost their sons and daughters; ask the sisters and brothers and the sons and daughters who have lost their loved ones to this mad orgy of killing by fiends in human shape. Fiends, let us quickly point out, who were suckled at the ample breast of the security establishment that the man himself headed for far too long. A period, let us also not forget, in which they were allowed to grow stronger and stronger still, due to his own disastrous policies of running with the hare and hunting with the hounds.
Should he not be deeply ashamed of himself for talking so lightly of the hellfire our poor country is passing through?
But wait. Gen Musharraf also said: “I love Pakistan and I would do anything for Pakistan. I took this oath at the Kakul Academy. For Pakistan one would be prepared to do anything.” Hang on a minute. He took an oath at the ‘Kakul Academy’ did he say?
What was the Kakul Academy to him, a man who violated one of the most basic precepts, an almost holy covenant, upon which every military academy is based: that of the honour system? When as a so-called gentleman cadet, he cheated in the nine-mile run and boasted about it in his nonsensical and ludicrous In the line of fire, even the title of which was plagiarised from one of Clint Eastwood’s films of the same name? (Stand up, Humayun Gauhar).
For the information of the ‘bloody civilians’ who might be reading this, a cadet would be relegated for taking a packet of cigarettes from the mess bar without signing for it.For cheating on the scale that Musharraf indulged in i.e. taking a shortcut in an endurance test, the punishment would be no less than being disgracefully drummed out of the academy after the badges of cadet rank (if any), shoulder flashes and cap badge, were cut off in front of the whole First Pakistan Battalion formed up on the parade ground.
So what ‘oath’, what ‘academy’ does he talk about? I should have thought that the ‘happening place where there is never a dull day’ would be Edgware Road, London and its shisha bars, where he lurks these days and not poor, bleeding Pakistan.
By the by, could he please explain even at this late date especially now that he is, as we say in the vernacular, ‘weighing his wings’ before jumping into Pakistani politics (!), why Adm Shahid Karimullah, the ambassador of Pakistan to Saudi Arabia at the time, was present, hands respectfully folded in his lap, as Bilal Musharraf and his boss, one Asad Jamal, chairman and CEO of ePlanet Ventures, Global Venture Capital, were meeting Prince Alwaleed bin Talal?
Meanwhile, back at the ranch, the federal government is going on making a laughing stock of itself by repeatedly first doing something stupid and then when the going gets tough, making shameless U-turns. And then doing nothing about the flunky/functionary who put it in difficulty in the first place.
Witness the judges’ appointment issue and the embarrassing loss of face the government had to suffer. I am told by people who should know that Babar Awan (yes, of the judges’ restoration fiasco fame) was principally to blame — surprise, surprise. Yet, the man continues as heretofore as law minister. Whilst one supports democratic rule by the elected representatives of the people one has to condemn such lackadaisical governance.
However, the politicians will be sorted out by the people at the next elections if they are perceived to be inept etc; what upsets me is that no one, not the government, not the opposition reacted when the army announced last week that the COAS needs no such approval to give extensions in service to generals.
What is the difference between giving extensions and promoting generals when an extension can put someone within reach of the next higher rank obviously at the cost of other officers waiting in line to be promoted?
If the army arrogates more and more powers to itself at GHQ outside the writ of the government, nothing is going to work. Doesn’t the opposition understand that whilst it may snigger at the present government’s discomfort when the army takes it head-on (such as the ill-considered public outburst of ‘fury’ by the generals at the Kerry-Lugar Bill, whilst themselves asking for American aid the very next week), it might be the next government of Pakistan. How will it rein in the (already) rampant army then?
As pleaded many times in this column, might one say to the political forces to come together on the main principles of governance, the first of which should be the elected government’s suzerainty over all the departments of the state?
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