maandag 13 juni 2011

'The Road is Occupied' روڈ لگا ھے'

During my recent visit I saw rapid changes in Rawalpindi – a garrison city and headquarters of Pakistan’s military, which both revealed an expansion of the military’s influence and its increased vulnerability, something affecting the collective psyche of the people.

In Rawalpindi I was staying in a lower working class neighborhood near Saddar or Cantonment, which sits alongside an important road that links the city centre with the Airport. Further along, the same road leads to the adjoining city, Islamabad, it is therefore frequently used by military generals, politicians and visiting officials to Pakistan. In the last five to six years the road has been totally transformed and now hosts flyovers, overhead bridges and service roads. These transformations are related to and consequent of the so called ‘war against terror’ and impacts upon the daily life of the people living in its surroundings in specific ways.

Central to these transformations and impacts is the event I witnessed and refer to here as ‘road laga hay’ or ‘the road is occupied’. About fifteen minutes before the ‘occupation’ of the road a military van with a blaring siren sped along the road and a uniformed soldier could be seen waving a red flag and instructing everybody to vacate the road. Seconds later military personnel carrying guns were on the scene and occupying different parts of the road and crossings asked all the passerby and drivers to leave the road within 15 minutes. The entire road was cleared and armed personnel stops at all crossroad corners and junctions. The road occupation prevented all access and movement towards the main road and remained so until the high ranking Pakistan officials and their vehicles had passed along the road. This is a frequent daily occurring which many local residents living along or relying on the road have had to accept and adapt to.

The impacts and effects of such daily road occupations were largest in the neighborhood where I stayed. This neighborhood near Saddar is a lower working class area, with many small streets and alleys, and houses are often small and owned or rented by mainly non-contractual laborers and low ranking government servants. If one wants to rent an apartment in the neighborhood locals are asked to show their national ID card at the local police station. There are shopkeepers who having established their businesses along the road and who are often asked by the armed militant men to close their businesses when the road is ‘occupied’. . It is perhaps the vulnerability of the road and the demography of the neighborhood which makes military personnel suspicious of potential security threats and which in turn lead to such extensive security measures.

A wounded City
Strict security measures are arguably a consequence of a number of bomb blasts and militant attacks in the area over the last ten years. There were two bomb attacks waged against the entourage of the former ruler General Musharraf as it passed on the outskirts of this neighborhood. Another major blow for the military was an attack and siege of its headquarters in 2009. All these attacks, involving mostly military institutes and personnel located in the area resulted in frequent casualities. Often new roads, squares and various military housing schemes are named after the soldiers and officers killed during bomb attacks or those killed during military actions in the areas bordering Afghanistan. Thus a casual traveler will see road signboards with names often ending with shaheed or ‘martyr’ that the present day conflict is creating.

These semantic and visual impressions are further extended by other attempts at sanctifying and sacralizing the road. All along the road from the airport to Saddar, the lamp posts are inscribed with one of the ‘99 names of Allah’, written in Arabic and with Urdu translation. It is possible that a frequent visitor could learn these name by heart in the course of his/her journeys. Yet besides these memorizing exercises, such sacralization attempts are also intended to engrave in space and create a collective truth of being a particular kind of Muslim who is against the militant jihadis in the ongoing ‘war against terrorism’.

The Mundane Interests
This inscription and sacralization of space runs alongside the mundane happenings also. In the last decade Rawalpindi, along with other major cities in Pakistan, have witnessed a mushrooming growth of military housing schemes. The outskirts of Rawalpindi are now dominated by military led investments in real estate creating new clusters of gated suburbs within the city. Such gated suburbs are dominantly occupied by retired service personnel, an emerging middle class and overseas absentee residents. Besides providing security to these gated communities, the military initiated a network of security agencies in the urban areas providing protection to the private institutes, businesses and foreign missionaries, something which also worked to create jobs for its retired personnel. The state of political and social unrest and resulting securitization of Pakistan also translate in such booming business.

There has been then an increasing militarization of the city which has built on the fact that military services have always been a major source of employment in the area. Rawalpindi, and the adjoining three districts, provide more than 50% of the total foot soldiers needed for the Pakistani military--- a tradition that goes back to the colonial times. Many of my cousins resident in the area have also served in one way or another the military. With the increasing investments of the military in oil, agriculture and the financial sector--- and thus converting itself into an ‘enterprising army’, more civil personnel are now incorporated into the affiliated military institutions. This transformation of the military has arguably also affected the way ordinary people understand and relate to the military. For example, it is now a truism that if you lose your mobile phone, it is possible to trace and get it back if you have a good friend working within the ISI, the intelligence branch of the military. Considering this dominant economic and social position of the military, it is perhaps not that suprising that in response to criticisms against the Pakistan army in the aftermath of bin Laden’s murder the first pro-military demonstrations were held in Rawalpindi.

The Pakistan military is sometimes called the ‘state within a state’[1], and now stands and operates in a complex relationship between the state and the people. The military provides a livelihood for the people, but under the present circumstances of violence, insecurity and terror, it also provides a symbolic justification for violence through simultaneously spatially inscribing and invoking an umbrella of sacredness that embraces the lives of the people.
[1] http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/south_asia/1750265.stm