A Visit to Pakistan

It is difficult to say when exactly the prayana began. Perhaps with the idea of the visit, sometime in December 1998 when Actionaid told me of the Workshop on Poverty Research that they suggested I take part in. Or with the agonising and preliminary paperwork about the visa-sometime in January 1999. Or with the actual visa application-on February 4th.

I need not have worried. Because Pakistan is always special for Indians, we had many fears and much misinformation. The security outside the Pakistan High Commission in New Delhi is formidable--we could not approach the High Commission by car! The police, looking at you suspiciously, require that you walk to the gate.

As it turned out, we made an application for a business visa on the 4th in person at the Pakistan High Commission. We met with some questioning at the gate, but were dealt with courteously. The documents were in order. We would get a visa for the duration of the conference, in my case twelve days. And we would have to report to the police within 24 hours of arrival. We have to deregister with them 24 hours before departure.

We submitted our papers in the morning, and were told to pick up the visa the next day. We were booked on the PIA flight on the 5th evening. We were told to come around 3:30 in the afternoon on the way to the airport. "It is our flight-don't worry, you will catch it!" said the embassy official with a smile.

He was right. We dropped by at 3:00 PM. At about 4:15 we had our visa, and off we went to Palam airport. At the check-in desk we found our friend the counsellor officer. "Are you satisfied?" he asked. We were quite happy to be on our way.

The flight took off late. It is an international flight, but it lasted barely an hour. Given the time difference, we gained half an hour. We were in Lahore in time to catch the connecting PIA flight to Islamabad.

The plane had the usual electronic gizmo to show the route we were taking. On top of Delhi, to the east of Lahore, the map showed a large area-Indian controlled Kashmir-as "disputed territory". Pakistan Occupied Kashmir was shown as a part of Pakistan--presumably there is no dispute about it. It struck me, a resident of south India, that we don't make such a fuss about Kashmir in this country. Yes, there is Article 370 that the BJP likes to talk about. Our government makes a bit of a fuss every time some map shows either the Line of Actual Control as the border, or Pakistan Occupied Kashmir as not part of India. But otherwise, Kashmir is like any other state, with its elections and other problems. In recent years, terrorism had increased, and it was no longer spoken of as a holiday destination-much to the regret of many.

Officialdom, I suppose, has to mirror international relations. At Immigration in Lahore, I was asked why I was visiting Pakistan. Was it to visit relatives? But after seeing the visa, I was passed through without any trouble. When I left the country twelve days later, to my surprise, my bag was thoroughly searched by the customs people. This was under a huge board which read: "In Saudi Arabia and Pakistan, the penalty for possessing drugs is death". I did not know what they were looking for. Again I was asked if I had come to visit relatives. And I was pushed along to the flight when my bags were found to have nothing more suspicious than a kilo of khobani and a large box of biscuits [which was opened].

We were a group of five, with lots of luggage. We were wrestling with two pushcarts in the Lahore airport, when a burly porter just took charge. "The Islamabad flight-this way". He took the trolleys, navigated through the crowd, got us checked in. I tried to talk, but could not get a word in. Then after we were checked in, he asked for payment. I wondered about a fight, for I had no Pakistani money. I told him so. Well, he said, have a good trip, and walked off. It would have been different in Delhi! Full marks to Pakistan!

The Lahore airport lounge is spacious, but we were bored and tired. The restaurant, however, provided fine service, and we had a very English tea. Quiet, unobtrusive service, with an English-speaking waiter serving us where we were. We have nothing like this in our airports. Then the flight was called. The Urdu has a fine lilt to it: "Musafir se gujarish he…". As I queued up, I saw, stuck to the front of the podium of the airline official checking boarding passes, a sticker---India Quit Kashmir.

We boarded the flight, which took less than an hour. By 11 PM we were in Islamabad. As we entered the terminal, we were met by our hosts-Imran Moghul and Ahmad Rizwan of Actionaid Pakistan. We were warmly welcomed. Our luggage was efficiently picked up, and we were on our way into the city. I was curious to see what our neighbouring country looked like. All I could see were modern highways and fancy buildings. I was told this was Islamabad-Pakistan was 20 KM away!

We were put up at the Chateau Royale-a guesthouse in F8, one of the fancy localities of the city. I learned that Islamabad was a planned city, with sectors from E to G, each with a number, and each with four sub-numbers. Except for a few, most roads were known by number. It was easy to get around. Our hotel looked very impressive. We got our rooms, and then, although it was late, we were offered hot cocoa and sandwiches. These were rapidly consumed.

The next day was a Saturday. I got up early and went for a walk. I was amazed at what I saw. The houses were huge, on vast sites. I have seen few houses and sites of this size in Delhi or elsewhere in India. The cars were fancy ones-we could see every model I had ever heard of. Buses were decorated in elaborate ways. There were plenty of taxis on the road. The people of Islamabad did themselves well. Later I was told this was again specific to Islamabad. Rawalpindi-Pindi-was quite different, I was told. It was an old city, with narrow streets and old, small houses. It reminded me of the Bareilly ka bazaar made famous in a film song. In fact, it had gained importance with the establishment of the capital in Islamabad.

Rizwan turned up about 11 AM, and said we had to report to the police. He took all of us along. We need our passports and some photographs. Forms were filled in, we were seen, and with Rizwan, a good Pakistani citizen vouching for us, given our temporary residence permit. I was advised to carry this permit around with me. We Indians were now as legal as could be.

I was amazed that each Pakistani citizen over 18 has a unique identity card. Apart from photo, address and signature, it had two numbers-an individual number for the person, and one unique number for the family he belonged to. On marriage, a new family number would be given. A citizen was expected to carry this identity card at all times. How could they organise and implement this? We in India could not issue electoral identity cards after spending crores. The Income Tax Department's idea of a Permanent Account Number-PAN-is generally snickered at. We have much to learn from Pakistan-even if it their legacy of military rule which made this efficiency possible. But I am not sure I like the idea very much-govt can be a tyrant. With such information on record, our Emergency would have been a very different thing. Perhaps we should be grateful for our inefficiency!

After this formality, which really was more a blow to the ego than anything else, because only the Indians had to do this, we went to the office of Actionaid Pakistan. This was an imposing building. And we were welcomed with smiles. We met a lot of people-I must confess that I have got names and faces mixed up, so I will simply say all of them were wonderful.

I must say though, that I was surprised. The women were not hidden behind burkhas! And many of the men were in traditional costume-the shalwar/kameez. It was winter, and the weather was cold. Yet, the shalwar/kameez, with shoes and socks, was common. Pakistan had developed special blends for cold weather, I was told. Pakistani textiles were good--I saw this for myself in the markets. Pakistani men seem to use traditional dress much more than Indian men, who have taken to western clothes like ducks to water. I was told it had become popular in the time of President Zia ul Haq.

We found plans had been made to look after us. Work, of course, had to be done, but so was fun to be had. There had to be a trade off. The suggested one assumed we would be very efficient, and therefore have much time off for fun. Unfortunately, we felt we could not live up to these expectations-more time for work was needed. Some of the fun had to be sacrificed. Our hosts accepted in good grace. I found though, that when we worked, we worked intensely. Quite a lot got done. It was more than I expected, and so we could have fun without a guilty conscience. We did. Our Pakistani hosts made sure that we had many things to do and see.

The next step was a drive around town, and dinner at a traditional place-a "saltish" restaurant--for a famous dish called a quiche. We were ready to try Pakistani food, which some of us felt must be like ours. We found that only some of it was! The quiche was an enormous dish of mutton, cooked in its own oils. It had a unique taste, quite different from anything I had eaten before.

Indians may be non-vegetarian, but they come from a country of many vegetarians. We eat our chicken and mutton, and boast of our non-vegetarianism. It is important to us because being non-vegetarian has a specific meaning in terms of our caste-ridden society. In the context of anti-brahminism-and many brahmins share these views-it was important to say we were not vegetarian. But that is all it was. And so, for some of us around the table, the quiche was a bit much. The rogani naan was wonderful, but the mix was unfamiliar. We tried gamely to eat it, but at some point culture and custom prevailed over diplomacy. Our hosts understood, and from then on, vegetables and dal appeared mysteriously at the table! It was all very civilised.

The next day was Sunday. Pamela of Actionaid Pakistan ["originally" from Goa!] was well organised. We got on to a bus, and went to Pir Suhava. This is on top of one of the local Margalla Hills, and provided us with a panoramic view of Islamabad. It was windy up there, and people were enjoying chicken tikkas-which, unlike their Indian counterparts, are enormous pieces of chicken. On the return, we stopped at a half way point on the hill, where there was a beautiful garden, and a chapatti diagram of Islamabad. It was very useful.

The Itwar bazaar was fascinating. There were many Afghan refugees, selling all sorts of things, from pista to carpets. Bargaining was a must, and I learned, a fine art. It was the place the local residents shopped. I found the vegetable and fruit markets just like our own. Prices seemed a little high to me for they were quoted in rupees. Everyone spoke Hindi-they called it Urdu, but we spoke it all the same. Fifty years have not made such a dent on the language, although I suspect 50 more years will, if relations do not improve. Perhaps I should claim on my CV that I speak Urdu, and make it look more impressive!

I found a bone carving of Ganesha. I had a choice of six! I was delighted to buy one and take it home. It spruces up Poornima's Ganesha collection beautifully.

By the second day we felt free and relaxed enough to discuss touchy things freely. We agreed that our governments were quarrelling, but that need not affect us. Just as we had to report to the police, so had they when they came to India. It was all reciprocal. We were experiencing Pakistani hospitality, and it was easy for us to believe that there is a big difference between people and governments. I am not at all sure we could be so hospitable!

The touchy point was Kashmir. My hosts also felt there was no solution they could see. They pointed out that it is not a simple dispute over land and territory. Pakistan sees it as a religious dispute, in which Hindu India is harassing Muslims in Kashmir. The phrase used is "give us back Kashmir". To us Indians, this is puzzling. Give back? But when did they have it? When did we take it away from them, that we could now give it back? Yet, that is what is said: "Give us back Kashmir, and all problems can be solved". When Pakistan says self-determination for the people of Kashmir, it means merger with Pakistan. When the two countries make joint statements that they will not interfere in each other's internal affairs, Pakistan means it. But the catch, for us, lies in the fact they do not consider Kashmir a part of India. So how are they interfering in our internal affairs?

India's often repeated statement that Kashmir is an integral part of India is incomprehensible to them except as the arrogance of the aggressor. For a state that sees its identity in Islam, and an Islam that cannot-could not-survive in the sub-continent, the idea of Muslim majority Kashmir being part of India is completely unacceptable. Today, it is not history that matters: it is now public sentiment.

In a real sense, India is Pakistan's "other". Given the history of the partition of the sub-continent in 1947, in some sense Pakistan's sense of identity comes from an apposition to being "not" India. The Quaid-e-Azam, Mohammad Ali Jinnah, had not talked of an Islamic state. He wanted space for all religions. But he died very soon after the founding of Pakistan, and politics went in a different direction. Iqbal Jatoi told us that Pakistan would have been a very different country today had the Quaid-e-Azam lived a little longer. The Islamic identity of Pakistan is not a stand-alone one: it is pitted, in some sense, against Hindu or "secular" India. I was asked if India was going back on its "secular" ideal. Clearly, the antics of the Shiv Sena and the RSS, and the brutal murder of Staines in Orissa prompted this.

Sometimes one gets the feeling that Pakistan has yet to define its sense of being on its own terms, without reference to what they see as Hindu India. Since many of see Pakistan as a free, independent country with its own culture and customs--some of which we share--this is something difficult to comprehend. As Vajpayee was reported to have said when he visited the Minar-e-Pakistan shrine in Lahore, "Do you need my approval to have sense of legitimacy for Pakistan?" Does that not come from elsewhere, from something more fundamental and basic? Would the question have been asked of the leader of any other country?

Yet, this view is not simply an anti-Hindu stance. Nepal is a Hindu Kingdom. It has the best of relations with Pakistan, religion notwithstanding. We had a young lady from Nepal in our group, and she did not have all these police reporting hassles. They have excellent relations with Bangladesh-the East Pakistan phase has been got over. So the issue is specific to India.

Could it be that there is a feeling that India does not accept the existence of Pakistan? Many Pakistanis seem to think that Indians have never accepted the Partition of British India in 1947; that we see those who supported the Pakistan demand as "traitors". And they feel that we are looking out to "right" this "wrong"--by destroying Pakistan. Some see our role in the Bangladesh war of 1971 in these terms. That we are waiting to break it up and gobble it into an akhand bharat? That seems to be a fear many have. Sure, we probably have some who feel this way; but it far from being even a sizeable minority. Why should such a feeling arise? Have we contributed to it in some way? And what can be done to counter it? For counter it, we should--for the simple reason that we accept Pakistan as a sovereign nation.

I am not sure of what the word "Hindu" conjures up in the Pakistani mind. There is of course a religious meaning, which evokes various responses. But there is also the indubitable fact that the word has a geographic connotation-the land beyond the Sindu, Indu, Hindu. If the Indus valley civilisation is what is referred to, then Hindu is a reference to the Pakistan of today. In fact, there are references to Hindva Muslims, as distinct from, say Arab Muslims. If this is so, today's India needs a better description. A reading of Sunil Khilnani's The Idea of India shows how complex this question is.

What I saw was interesting. Baishaki was around the corner, and the papers were full of the dangers of flying kites. This I can understand. But there were those who saw Baishaki as a Hindu religious festival, which the pious Muslim should not celebrate! I had always thought of this as a harvest, seasonal celebration, not as anything religious. The antagonism this seemed to bring forth in some quarters was surprising--and distressing--to me. This is a complex matter, and I do not pretend to understand it.

I was curious to see if caste plays a role in Pakistani society--and how. Of course, all those I met were familiar with the caste phenomenon. They told me they do not have this problem. But there is something called "biradari"--brotherhood, that plays an important role in weddings and the like. It has many of the features of Indian caste. Yet, there is a difference, and it comes from Islam. In Islam, before God, all human being are equal. No discrimination of status is possible. It is thus not possible to arrange biradaris in a hierarchy, in which some are "better" than others. Of course, this does not mean perfect equality--but a caste hierarchy is out.

Naipaul has pointed out in his writings that many Pakistanis use the phrase "before Pakistan" to refer to past historical matters. Harappa, for example, was "before Pakistan". It is part of the history of the sub-continent, but there is a need to differentiate it from today's India. This seems to go to the same point.

In the local papers, The News, I think, I read [around February 10th] a review of Naipaul's latest book, Among the Believers. This is his second book of his travels in the Islamic world. I had read his earlier book, An Islamic Journey, and had felt he had been rather harsh in his judgement of Pakistan. At that time I had not visited Pakistan, and had no strong base for this judgement. It was based on what I knew of history, and of my interactions with Pakistanis in third countries. As an Indian I certainly would not have been so critical!

In this second book Naipaul puts forward the view that these are converted peoples who have lost their roots in their own culture, and have been forced to accept the desert and Arab culture of Islam. There is a conflict between what they get from their roots, and what their religion has brought them--and this shows up in their daily lives. Naipaul has his observations, and he has his strong opinions. RSS ideologues are using these arguments to support what they call Hindutva and swadeshi, but that is another matter.

I can see many reasons for disagreeing with Naipaul. But the reviewer went on and on about the Indian view of Islam and Muslims in dealing with Naipaul's observations. Naipaul was clearly critical of Islamic nationalism. He did not like much of what he saw in Pakistan. Therefore, he was anti-Islam, and therefore, he was pro-India-Hindu. His negative views reflect India's biased views. They reflect an inability to accept Islam, to understand it in its own terms. In this way, Naipaul's criticism of Islamic culture and peoples is put in specific anti-India perspective. Without that reference, the reviewer felt he could not criticise or disagree with Naipaul!

But Naipaul is no Indian. He hails from the West Indies, lives in England, and is now married to a Pakistani. Many here would argue that he is no friend of India-witness the reaction to his An Area of Darkness, and India-A Wounded Civilisation. How does Naipaul reflect Indian prejudices about Pakistan and Islam? Yet, I saw this everywhere. It is a given. For an Indian-even one who is no fundamentalist-it is difficult to understand this mindset, if that is what it is. It reflects some deep emotion, some deeply felt "truth", that is a reality in the Pakistan of today. I do not know how to understand it-and in saying this I am not even implying we are blameless in this matter. I am simply saying there is something complex and deep in the psyche that we must understand better.

Most of the Pakistanis I met had relatives in India. I was surprised at how many had relatives "across the border". They would like to come and visit them. They were angry at the problems of getting a visa. They would like these things to improve. I do not know so many Indians who have relatives across the border. Could it be that many of the Pakistanis had Hindu relatives? Could it be that many Hindus stayed behind, and converted to Islam to survive and succeed in that society? If so, it would not be surprising to hear of this relationship. We should do all we can to encourage interaction.

I was told that conversions were very few. But it is a fact that Hindus are a minuscule minority today. That part of the world had quite a few Hindus in the 1940s-could all have left? I do not know, but a reading of Penderel Moon's Divide and Quit, by a neutral eyewitness to events of that time, suggests that there were some conversions-not necessarily forced--at least. And these people would have relatives in India.

I was told that trade--smuggling-- is extensive. Many of them study using textbooks printed in India because they are so much cheaper than what they get in Pakistan. They hoped this smuggling would continue. Liquor from India is also freely available. I do not know what else goes on. I must say though that I saw no liquor during my two week sojourn in the country. Ours must have been a very serious workshop!

The group I was with decided to visit "Tax"-Taxila or the traditional Takshashila, in the North West Frontier Province. This goes back to Chanakya, Alexander and Ashoka. To most of us, this is part of ancient Indian history. Yet, Tax is today part of Pakistan. It represents part of the glorious "before Pakistan" phase. I must say I was impressed with the way the ruins are looked after. They are neat and clean. There is no litter, and the guides are proud of what they are showing us. They did an excellent job of historical introduction. In the local bookshop I saw a copy of Aubrey Menon's The Fig Tree--priced at Rs 250. I learned much from the visit. Pakistan can genuinely claim a share in the Arthashastra. I don't think they would!

In the Workshop, I learned some interesting things about the Pakistan economy. It is amazing how ignorant we are about our neighbouring country.

What interested me was the fact that in the last 15 years, till say 1990, levels of poverty have declined dramatically in Pakistan. Many reasons were given. One was the "integration of the Pakistan labour market with that of the Gulf". This led to a large number of Pakistanis getting jobs in the Gulf countries, and sending home remittances. It also meant that a shortage of skills in the domestic economy led to an increase of wage rates for those who remained behind. Again, given Pakistan's frontline position against the Soviet Union in Afghanistan, foreign aid poured in. This too had a positive impact on the economy. But after 1990, the Gulf market began to decline, and with the collapse of the Soviet Union, the strategic importance of Pakistan declined. Foreign money became less plentiful, and as a result, poverty ratios have begun to rise again. This is a matter of considerable concern.

Another aspect of the economic situation is the fact that there are a large number of refugees from Afghanistan in the country. This brings in new problems at a time when resource are becoming scarce. There are also problems of smuggling, of drugs--my experience in Customs would be one indicator of this--that may have long term implications for the future.

To me, it was interesting to realise that poverty ratio declines need not reflect an improvement in the basic functioning of the economy. Pakistan seems to be a good case to illustrate this. With measures like land reform conspicuous by their absence, it is difficult to see where the well springs of growth lie. I know so little of the economy that I really hesitate to say even this. There is much for Indian economists to understand here.

But there was no field visit. I would have loved to compare the poor areas of Pakistan with those of India, to see how Poverty Alleviation Programmes there work. I would have loved to get insights of the dynamics of rural transformation. This is a major gap in my visit, and my impressions are therefore necessarily partial.

Quaid-e-Azam University in Islamabad is one of the best in Pakistan, with a wonderful campus beyond the Diplomatic Enclave. I spent a delightful morning there, interacting with the Professors of the Economics Department. Again, the tale was distressingly similar. The University was short of funds--it could hardly raise money for its research activities. Good scholars were leaving: salaries in the NGO sector were so much better. If improvements were not made, they felt they would be unable to carry on the current [unsatisfactory] level of academic work. I could only sympathise--our own academic scene is so distressing!

One must not forget to the mention the positive aspects of the India-Pakistan relationship. Karnataka and Tamil Nadu have been quarrelling for years over the sharing of Cauvery river waters. India and Pakistan have a working agreement over the sharing of the water of the five rivers of the Punjab. It is from our share of these waters that the Indira Gandhi canal is being built to take water to the deserts of Rajasthan. This is a mature aspect of the relationship that deserves more attention.

The reaction of the Pakistanis to the behaviour of the Chennai crowd after Pakistan won the Test match in cricket was one of awe. You are a sporting people, one of them told me--we would not have done the same! The next match, which India won in Delhi, was followed with interest. Most of the people I met felt a 1-1 result was in the end fair!

Plans had been announced for the Prime Minister's bus ride to Lahore. While there was some cynicism, there were many who welcomed it, and hoped for positive results. And the fact that two two countries talked sense on the question of nuclear war is a positive thing. While we carry much baggage from the past, I left Pakistan with a sense of hope.

For me the visit, however brief, was very useful. People like us--the educated, Westernised elite, I suppose, do not seem to differ much. I had a very good time, free of all bureaucratic and other headaches. I had a lot of time to talk of things, and my Pakistani hosts were attentive, concerned, and at all times considerate. The most contentious issues were discussed dispassionately. This is what has persuaded me to put these thoughts--preliminary, impetuous, confused and much more--on paper. Exchanging these ideas is a small step in opening up questions for discussion. Discussion now would be useful, to get us out of the double bind we find ourselves in.