A Pakistani Mela in Amsterdam

In the month of June it was an unusual rainy day in Amsterdam, however a large number of enthusiast Pakistanis assembled at the ‘Pakistan Mela’. Unusual was also a significant participation of women, young and old, and children in the event. People had come not only from different parts of the Netherlands but also from the neighboring Germany and Belgium. In gray and moister filled Sloterpark the smell of Pakistani food and music was covering the whole park as were the colorful umbrellas of the participants. The word ‘Mela’ or ‘gathering’ or ‘festival’, is a Sanskrit word and it deals with the festivities or gatherings around the Sufi shrine and Hindu temples in South Asian villages. With urbanization it also got more secular usage, and among the South Asian diaspora communities it turns out to be an important cultural import. Thus you have Indian, Nepalese, Sikh and Pakistani versions in major cities of the UK and North America, thus also the Pakistani Mela in Amsterdam form last couple of years.


The Pakistanis in the Netherlands are a small groups that mostly lives in three major cities Amsterdam Rotterdam and the Hague. Following their area of origin in Pakistan, their different migration history and their scattered existence in the Netherlands it is difficult to speak of a single ‘Pakistani community’: settled in the Hague ‘people of Gujrat’ with their cast or biraderi base links have least in common with the bulk of Memons from Karachi living in Amsterdam. Similarly the fortune seekers migrated in the 1970s are of different orientations than the asylum seekers of 1980s. However experiences in the Netherlands through religious and social gatherings; emergence of some youth groups that look for common boundaries and the emergence of in-group marriage patterns among the Dutch Pakistanis shows tendencies towards materialization of a single community. The organization of the ‘Pakistani Mela’ should also be seen a step in that direction.

Like elsewhere the Pakistani Mela in Amsterdam exhibited stands with variety of Pakistani culinary, women dresses, henna paintings, books etc. Beside some traditional sports like Kabaddi, a musical program was arranged a famous Pakistani female singer was invited, beside many local Pakistani and Indian musicians. From food to music and other aesthetic styles exhibited, the ‘Pakistani culture’ cannot be thought outside of the wider South Asian cultural mixings. Thus a Pakistani dress show with peculiar party and marriage dresses by a local boutique shop depicted the designs and choices of the middle classes in India and Pakistan. Interestingly almost all the female models were from the Surinamese origin, which shows certain conservatism of Pakistanis with regard to the social role of their women.

These cultural similarities were further visible among the participants with many Sikh, of the Indian Punjab origin, and Surinamese who are regular visitors of any Pakistani cultural gathering. The event of Kabaddi—a rural Punjabi male sport exposing body and muscles, was cancelled apparently due to bad weather. The whole event was widely advertised: there were stalls of Dutch entertainers for the kids, and even the VU University researcher in cooperation with the City Council department of health had also their stand for a research on the dietary practices of the Pakistani. It shows an increase in interest in otherwise a ‘hidden’ Pakistani group in the Netherlands.

The host of the musical program was keen in announcing the names of the sponsors, and even once she got a big boo from the audience when she interrupted the music event for this purpose. However these sponsors were also important for establishing such a Mela. Going through some names of the sponsors like ‘Taste of Lahore’, ‘Sahil Cosmetics’, A. F. Toko’, shows the development of a segment of entrepreneurs among the Pakistanis in the last twenty years. Beside their representation in catering business, the Pakistanis profited from developments in telecommunication and liberalization of cab companies. Following some studies more than 70% of the telephone shops, belwinkels, in Amsterdam are run by Pakistanis; similarly they have a quite a share in the emerging business of cab-companies--- in Rotterdam they are stereotyped as ‘Taliban Taxis’ following their competition with other groups.

These emerging entrepreneurs with different background were brought together under patronage of the Pakistani embassy to organize the Mela. More than their common Pakistani heritage, a common factor among them was that they have establish themselves through their businesses and networks within the Dutch society after an uneasy migration experience. But their personal ambition are usually creating hurdles in joining hands for some common cause or shaping the contours of a ‘community’ with diverse people and belongings. Thus it is seen that the personal ambitions of the ‘leaders’ lead to emergence of different factions and groups in different Dutch cities. The communal politics of Pakistanis revolves around the competitions of these factional groups and figures. For the moment the ambassadorial interventions are needed to create the events like the Pakistan Mela that provide a diverse ‘community’ some common platform. At the same time through these events these migrant groups are finding their ways and personal means to create space for themselves and to register their cultural forms within the Dutch society.

'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

60 kilometers from bin Laden

The immediate reactions of Pakistanis on hearing of the murder of Osama bin Laden were divided--- between those showing disbelief and condemning the Americans, and those condemning bin Laden for causing calamity for Pakistan. However as the news emerged, I did not find any emotional outburst in the neighborhood where I stayed.
On the 1st of May, it was late in the evening when me and my family returned back from to our apartment after attending the wedding reception of a relative. Everybody was tired after the preparation and enactment of three day long wedding rituals, usual for Pakistani marriages. Just after midnight began the ‘load-shedding’ – a compulsory power cut that occurs many times during day and night in Pakistan, and we all fell asleep. Although the power cut usually means more mosquito attacks, that night we were so tired we didn’t even notice.

If the load-shedding began here in Rawalpindi, an adjacent city of Islamabad, where we were staying with family, it would have been the same time that it ended in Abbottabad --- a garrison town about 60 kilometer to the north and where bin Laden was hiding out, presumably for several years now. . Around that time US Navy Seals started their military action under the name ‘Geronimo’, and attacked the hide-out compound in Abbottabad. American commandos had already left the hide-out, taking with them the dead body of bin Laden, before the Pakistani military or intelligence agencies could make an assessment about the incident. It was late in the morning when I was awoken by a phone call from a friend who teaches in a local government College. He asked ‘if I was watching the TV’ and told me about the killing of bin Laden as a result of the American covered military action in Abbottabad. ”Sad thing is that the Americans came in helicopters, killed Osama and left, while our military kept sleeping” he said.

I sensed anger and distress in the tone of voice of my friend. I hurriedly searched for the remote control of the TV but becaue of the hectic chaos of the wedding nobody had watched the TV for the last couple of days and so it was no easy task. Under the dirty laundry spread across beds and sofas, finally I found the remote and turned the TV on. Different local channels showed the image of a half-furnished ‘compound’ with streams of incoming news running on the screen regarding the American action. The news obviously caused curiosity among the residents of the house now gathered around the TV: some were hurling abuse at the Americans while others said ”He was also responsible for several bomb blasts in Pakistan” reminding them of the daily terrorist attacks in Pakistan. Curiously not a single person used the word shaheed or martyr for Osama.

In the afternoon I had an appointment with a colleague at the International Islamic University in Islamabad. I took a taxi from Rawalpindi and it crossed through the streets of Cantonment where the headquarters of the Pakistani military are located. I did not observe any unusual security measures or gatherings of people along the road or on the squares. The taxi-driver, a retired soldier in his 50s, moaned about the hot weather while adjusting a wet piece of cloth on his head to keep himself cool. Obviously I wanted to talk with him about today’s incident: “how is it possible that he was hiding-out in Abbottabad—a military city? Where is the proof of his murder they didn’t show any proof of how they killed him”. On my suggestion that the announcement was made by the American President himself and that this is significant in showing that they might have really done it ‘this time’, he turned less assured about his position. ”Babu sahib (a term used for educated people) you know we do not know; these things are played at higher levels and about those decisions we are uneducated”, he tried to conclude this talk on a note of his powerlessness.

Such a helplessness augmented in the wake of total silence from the civil or military institutes to inform people about the actual events. This situation translated into a narrative of convulsive rage that I found in the words of a student at the Islamic University in Islamabad: ”as a Pakistani I am confused and shocked regarding the Osama incident, and how angry I am with this state of my mind?” There was an element of evaporated jingoism when people like him asked ”what was our military doing?”; therefore there was anger at the failure of the military and intelligence agencies. Somebody said ”If they knew, they should have taken an action of their own, and if they did not know, they are also guilty of negligence: in both cases they are incompetent”.

Whether or not the world will ever become enlightened about the actual position of the Pakistani military in Osama’s murder, in the days following the military had to clear its position through its presentation in the Pakistani Parliament where it apologized for its failure. For some Pakistanis this confession was a big thing on the part of the military, however for the majority it added to a more general mystery of how the military can determine the internal and external policies of the Pakistani state.

The Terror of the 'War against terror'

A small piece for the standplaatswereld:
http://standplaatswereld.nl/2011/03/21/the-terror-of-the-%e2%80%98war-against-terror%e2%80%99/#more-4694

It looked like a scene from a Hollywood detective film. While driving in his car in a busy street of Lahore, an American took out his weapon and fired at two young men riding on a motorbike. The attacker stopped and emerged from his car. Then, using an even bigger automatic weapon, killed his antagonists, who were already injured and had fallen to the ground. The murdered Pakistanis were carrying weapons but they did not get a chance to pick these up and use them. In the meantime, elsewhere in Lahore, a black car with ‘tinted windows’ rushed to rescue the attacker. Hurrying on the wrong side of the road it crushed a passersby. However, before it could reach the attacker, the latter was arrested by the police.

The incident opened up a plethora of speculations and ambiguities about the official status of the killer, Raymond Davis, who, in the meantime, has become a household name in Pakistan. The American Consulate in Lahore first mentioned that Davis belonged to the ‘technical staff’ of the Consulate; a day later the American Embassy in Islamabad issued a ‘new list of officials,’ mentioning Davis as a ‘staff member’ enjoying diplomatic immunity from a trial in the host country, Pakistan. The White House refused to name the arrested ‘American official,’ which in practice meant that the ‘official’ was a CIA agent. However, it asked for his release due to his ‘diplomatic’ status. Later president Obama entered into the controversy when he personally recognized Davis as ‘our diplomat in Islamabad’ and asked the Pakistani government to ‘avoid any step’ to start criminal charges in a Pakistani court.

Such inconsistencies on the part of the American officials were equally shared by their counterparts among the Pakistani government. The ministers and officials of the ruling People’s Party (PPP) gave contradictory statements about the alleged ‘diplomatic immunity’ of Davis. The foreign minister was expelled from his post when he challenged the official soft line that his government had adopted towards the issue. The weak and corrupt PPP government, surviving on IMF regulations, was already unpopular due to economic downturn, rising commodity prices and, not least, due to its failure to contain the domestic consequences of the ‘war against terrorism’. The government ambiguities on the issue are translated as a ‘selling out’ by the right wing parties and media. It caused a wave of anti-American feelings already abundant among the masses.

Hunting down ‘Terrorists’
These fears and conspiracies were feed on the slow unfolding of events that depict the shadowy aspects of the ‘war against terrorism’. It soon turned out that Davis worked for an American ‘security firm’, that is named ‘Xe’ in the media, and which is the new face of the infamous Blackwater Worldwide which was once active in Iraq. Like its embedded character during the Iraq war, the US media, including the New York Times, covered the actual background of Davis as it might ‘jeopardize his safety in Pakistani jail’. Furthermore the incident refers to the war inside the ‘war against terror’ involving layers of Pakistani security and military establishment: it turned out that the two Pakistanis killed by Davis were working for the Pakistani intelligence agency, ISI, and they were following Davis diligently to know the broader network of the recent American involvement within Pakistani society. Contrary to the ‘double agenda’ of former military ruler Musharraf regarding his alleged ‘half-hearted fight against the Taliban-AlQaeda’ networks in Pakistan and Afghanistan, the civilian PPP government turned more supportive to the US in the ‘war against terrorism’. As part this shift, unknown numbers of American security officials were dispatched to work in Pakistan.

This high level of cooperation between the civilian government and the US was already a thorn in the side of the Pakistani military establishment—- who ruled the country for the longest part of its history. The civilian government is now presented as failing to protect the ‘national interests’ of the country, while the military is readjusting its image as the ‘only savior’ of the country. Such efforts are also meant to mystify the failings of the military and intelligence agencies in this affair. The military generals are again sitting at the table alongside their US counterparts and the spymasters behind the curtains, to reframe their positions on this issue. In the longer run the incident has further weakened the working sphere of the civil institutes in Pakistan.

Until recently, Raymond Davis awaited his lot in a Pakistani jail. A court was to decide about his ‘diplomatic immunity’. Pakistani media and its frenzied anchorpersons held daily Davis’ trials that already cost victims—- a widow of one of the murdered Pakistani men committed suicide due to the rumors that the Pakistani officials are sending Davis back to America. Indeed, Davis was released by the court on March 16th on the basis of the diyat laws. These laws allow for release of the prisoner after payment of compensation money from the offender to the offended party beyond the court decisions.

At another level the US and Pakistani military and security agencies are re-determining the perimeters of their involvement in this ‘war against terrorism’ in Pakistan and Afghanistan. It occurs in a shadow where international media is mostly focused on the political developments in the Middle East. The American shadows are clearing away from the heads of the long-time dictators in the Middle East. However, in South Asia the US is deep in the midst of its muddled support to undemocratic forces, and for the absurdities of the ‘war against terrorism’.

Dutch elections and the anti-Islam vote

The enormous success of the right wing anti-Islam party in the recent elections in the Netherlands indicates a widespread schism within the Dutch and wider European societies where the presence of the Muslims as equal participants of society is disputed.

'Stop migration from the Muslim countries! Block the building of mosques or Muslim schools! Stop subsidizing the multicultural programs', were prominent slogans of Geert Wilders, head of Freedom Party (PVV) during the election campaign in the Netherlands. His group obtained 1,5 million votes and increased its number of seats from 9 to 24 in the parliament. It is probable that the PVV enter into a coalition with the mainstream liberal party VVD to form a government. This can lead to an extreme xenophobic and anti-Muslim government in western Europe.

The anti-migrant propaganda of Wilders appealed to certain quarters within the Dutch society. The old working class neighborhoods that traditionally supported the Labor and Socialist parties got disillusioned with the presumed 'elitist' attitude of these parties. With increasing unemployment, economic downfall, changing neighborhood demographics-- with more migrants, caused a feeling of isolation among these groups: 'this is not my street', is often heard complaint. The migrants are easy targets of such socio-economic isolation. Add to this the fast integration of Europe that increased distance between the people and decision-makers, thus ‘evaporating our national symbols', as neo-nationalist like Wilders will argue for.

The traditional polarization of the Dutch political scene further added to the election win of the PVV. Wilders chided the traditional political parties for ignoring the worries of 'common man' on burning issues of migration, criminality and security. Afraid of loosing their vote bank the other political parties did not present a clear opposition to Wilders' accusations. In the process they lost to Wilders' sentimental political ploy on these issues.

The success of parties like the PVV is a dangerous development with respect to the future of democratic values in Europe. Wilders' party does not follow the rules of a traditional political party: it does not have a membership or party hierarchy or hold any party elections. In this sense it is mere a 'movement'. Wilders successfully avoided any questions about bringing democracy within his own party. For the PVV Wilders is a party ideologue, he formulated his party's election program, and he chose the candidates, and acts as the main media person of the party. An acceptance of such one-man demagogy within the Dutch political system shows an approval of certain undemocratic tendencies within a society that projected itself as a 'tolerant'.

This is even more clear if we look at Wilders' ideas and his political program. In the past he advocated to 'ban the Quran' and he likes to declare 'Islam as a fascist ideology'. Such a theme is also reflected in the film 'fitna' that he produced about the negative aspects of Islam. In his election campaign he asked for banning migration from the Muslim countries, and deporting the 'criminal' Muslims to the country of their origin. His anti-Islam program is based on the notion that European civilization is founded on 'Jewish-Christian tradition' thus denying any role of the Muslims in the recent history of the country. Moreover he even asked for 'ethnic registration' of non-white population thus importing the kind of practices that the Nazi-German applied to its subjects.

Even more worrying is that Wilders' political agenda was received without a broader outrage within the Dutch public space. It indicates a clear indifference, if not an implicit support, within the broader public space about Wilders' program. The political win of the PVV nonetheless present a dangerous tendency within the Dutch society where the majority of voters elected a group that tries to usurp the democratic rights of a minority.

The win of Wilders in the Netherlands cannot be seen without taking into account the broader debate about Islam and Muslims in the European countries. Whether it is debate about banning of hijab in public spaces in France and Belgium or the issue of height of minarets in Switzerland, Islam has become a politicized subject in Europe. These reactions to the Muslim presence however indicate non-acceptance of the emerging realities within the Dutch or European societies.

Migration and the politics of names

IT was not the first time I was asked about my ‘actual’ surname or, achternaam, as they say in Dutch. This time was during my introductory meeting with the FSW staff at the VU. I have been dealing with this question now for over a decade. Years ago my Dutch language teacher called me ‘Mohammad’ following the order of my full name ‘Mohammad Amer’. I told her that ‘I am called ‘Amer’, and if you call me ‘Mohammad’ I might not respond to you’. She said ‘that means Amer is your, roepnaam’ (meaning, in Dutch, literally the name people call you)? ‘Kind of’, I told her. Thus she noted my name as ‘Amer, Mohammad Amer’ on the attendance list. I accepted that as it sounded quite lyrical whenever she spoke it.

In this early period I explained to other people why I should be called ‘Amer’ and not ‘Mohammad’– as ‘Amer’ was the name my parents gave me while ‘Mohammad’ they might have added for some religious, devotional reasons or simply because everybody has two names thus I should also have a second name. However, when I came across official institutes or formal occasions in the Netherlands I had to accept gradually that when someone called out ‘Mohammad’ they usually meant me. Occasionally, when I insisted on calling myself ‘Amer’ and not ‘Mohammad,’ people thought me arrogant for preferring to be called by my achternaam (surname) – usually used for addressing people formally. On other occasions people thought that I was shy about using the name, ‘Mohammad,’ due to its specific religious connotations.

It is not that the Pakistanis do not have surnames but the story is a bit complex, and hard to cover within the post-Napoleon nomenclature that underlies the Dutch naming system. There are a number of possibilities available for choosing surnames within the Pakistani context: a most common usage is where the kids, or a wife after marriage, takes the first, and not second, name of their father or husband, as their surname. Take the example of the former Pakistani premier Mohammad Nawaz Sharif. He took ‘Sharif’ from his father, Mohammad Sharif, while his son is called Hussain Nawaz, and his wife Kalsoom Nawaz. This is a preferred system of adopting a surname among upwardly mobile groups in Pakistan. With the migration and settlement however this choice is no more self-evident. The Dutch municipal officials would give you only limited possibilities of choosing a surname – it must come from a father or mother, or a husband, in the case of married women. Thus while their cousins ‘back home’ are free to choose first or second name of their parents or that of husbands as surname, the Pakistani migrants have to accept the choices that the Dutch system of naming provides them.

Another category is where clan or caste names are adopted as family names. We have the famous families like Bhuttos or Zardaris, which are actually clan names. The choice for the caste name as family name becomes a wider practice mostly among the Punjabi ethnic groups. The caste system among many Pakistanis still plays a role mostly in arranging marriages where caste compatibility is measured before deciding about a potential spouse. When using the caste name as surname, only ‘higher’ caste names would be used as surname. Historically the caste system is quite flexible, as one can move upward in the system through, for example, migration. By using caste as surname, certain rigidity is created in the caste structures, and the European systems of naming curiously further solidify it through its inherent inflexibility.

In more recent times a certain Islamization of names has taken place. Children are given names following certain figures from Islamic history or to adopt names that have some religious meanings. In such cases people look for meanings and the personal name should also reflect it. Where such a search for meanings is related with recent religious insurgence, visible in all religions, however one should not exaggerate the impact of such search on everyday choices of the migrants. During my fieldwork many Muslim youth, who otherwise emphasized the Islamic aspect of their identity, would justify the necessity of caste, either for adopting it as name, or for its implied social status, or simply for ‘knowing’ somebody through his or her caste name. I will explain its significance through an interesting ethnographic note: some months back I was invited by a former Pakistani political activist to a social gathering in Amsterdam. The gathering occurred at a pizzeria owned by one Sheikh sahib or Mr Sheikh (name of a merchant caste) on a side street of the P.C. Hooftstraat in Amsterdam. Beside the activist friend Choudhry sahib (a land owing caste) the other friends accompanied were Raja sahib (a Rajput or ruling caste) and a Malik sahib (a sub-caste of Rajputs). During the whole gathering they called each other with these caste names and not by ‘actual’ names. Except the name of my political activist friend, I still do not know what the ‘actual’ names of his friends were. I am also not sure whether, considering their position as ‘successful migrants’ the actual names matter for them at all.

Another case of ambiguous naming is when Pakistani or South Asian writers and literati use their pen-names under which they publish their literary works. Such names can be of poetic import, and are sometimes adopted from the birth place of the user. During my Persian classes in Islamabad in the 1980s an Iranian teacher used to call me Agha (Mr) Morgahi as I was born in a place called Morgah. I liked that name, and adopted it myself, mostly for my writings, although it remained for an ‘unofficial’ use.

Mohammad Amer (“Morgahi”) is finishing his PhD at the SCA after the ISIM, the Leiden-based institute of Islam, was closed down.

Pakistan: gevecht met eigen identiteit

In 1950, net drie jaar na de stichting van Pakistan, een archeologische boek verscheen met de titel ‘vijf duizend jaren van Pakistan’. Het boek ging over de archeologische erfgoed van de civilisatie, meestal Budhistisch, langs de oever van rivier Sindh die midden van de hele land stroomt, en ook regio India haar naam gaf. Echter bleek de moderne natiestaat Pakistan afstand te nemen van lokale culturele vormen die dat historische erfgoed hen mee had gedeeld. Zo vertellen de recente geschiedenis boeken van Pakistaanse scholen over het ontstaan van dit jonge natiestaat: Pakistan was ontstaan op die dag toen eerst Moslim in India binnentrad en toen eerste hindoe tot Islam bekeerde. Een zoektocht naar een translokale identiteit creëert een ambiguïteit dat verklaart aan ene kant een streef naar een moderne Moslim terwijl, aan de andere kant, steun aan Taliban geeft.

Begin maart 2009 kwamen weer beelden vanuit Pakistan over een terreur aanslag waarbij de spelersbus van Sri Lankas cricketploeg was aangevallen door een al-Qaida-achtig aanval in Pakistaanse culturele stad Lahore. De incident kreeg een wereldwijd media aandacht, en Pakistan werd gezien als een land die haar macht op de terroristen dreig verder te verloren. Een dag daarna kreeg een andere gebeurtenis --- een bomaanslag op de grafmonument van Rahman Baba—zeventiende eeuw Pashtoun dichter en heilig, vlakbij stadje Peshawar, minder aandacht van de media. De bom ontploffing volgde een waarschuwing van de lokale Taliban die tegen heilige eerbiedingen rondom de tombe waren. Dit betekent dat jihadistische strijders een strijd hadden verspreid naar de historische en culturele erfgoed van Pakistan, en wat dat betreft is dit te vergelijken met de bomaanslag op de Boeddhistische monumenten in Afghanistan door de Taliban regime.

Rahman Baba behoort tot een van de soefi gestelijken waarvan Pakistan veel rijker is. Het waren de Soefis uit centraal Azië en Iran, soms meereisden met de hordes van later stichter van verschillende moslim dynastieën in Delhi, die de islam tot de inheemse Indiase bevolking brachten. Zo ontstonden verschillende lokale soefi ordes in India waarvan de aanhang niet alleen tot islamieten beleefde. Het bestaan van die heiligen met syncretisch karakter onderscheid de Islam in Zuid Azië, India, Pakistan en Bangladesh, met die van de Midden Oosten. Onder de nieuwe natiestaat Pakistan omarmde de gedachtegoed van die soefi in creëren van nationale identiteit maar daarnaast werd ook gezocht naar een Moslim identiteit, een ‘hoog Islam’, die boven de grenzen van de natie staat gaat. Een tweespalt tussen die uitlopende wensen bleek een chronische probleem voor de nieuwe natiestaat.

Geschiedenis als instrument van natievorming
De geschiedenis boeken van de begin decennia van Pakistan gingen uitgebreid over de Centraal Aziatische routes van de Moslim, en de heiligen, als bronnen van de Moslim identiteit van Pakistan. Als deel van dit nationalisatie proces van heiligen bracht regeringen structurele veranderingen rondom de heilige plekken van die geestelijken. Dus de staat gaf, waar mogelijk, een officieel status aan de viering op de tombe, deels ook om die onder haar toezicht te brengen. Dus verschillende voorzieningen worden gecreëerd voor de bezoekers van de die tombe. Daarnaast werd een hervormde vorm van soefisme ingevoerd binnen de meer syncretische praktijken rondom die plekken. Dus de poging was om een lokale religieuze vormen te rijmen met de symbolische ummah, Moslim gemeenschap, gericht Moslim identiteit van een modern Pakistan.

In deze periode zie je verder dat de geschiedschrijving ook de periode voor het komst van de Moslims in India behandelde. Die boeken gingen over wat de ‘Indische Rivier civilisatie’, zoals staat in boven genoemd boek, was en hoe die civilisaties haar invloed uitoefende op de culturele en leefomstandigheden van de mensen van de nu. In die zin die invalshoek van geschiedenis stond in verleng stuk van de breder geschieden van India. Maar geschiedschrijving op basis van die bronnen zal later zich beperken tot meer seculiere segmenten in Pakistan. Een voorbeeld van dit poging was een controversieel boek van Aitizaz Ahsan, een van de voornaamste leider van de recente projuristen beweging in Pakistan, the Indus Saga. Daarin hij beweerde dat de mensen rondom de Sindh of Indus rivier, dus die van pakweg huidige Pakistan, altijd een aparte culturele patroon gekend hadden die altijd los de definiëren was van de rest van India. Echter zijn stelling staat haaks niet alleen op de recente geschiedenis van India maar het verklaart onvoldoende over het ontstaan van twee vleugels van natiestaat Pakistan: West- en Oost Pakistan (thans Bangladesh).

Islamisering van bovenaf
De Islam werd gezien werd als verbindingsmiddel tussen de twee vleugels van de natiestaat Pakistan tijdens haar onafhankelijkheid. De eerste decennia van zelfstandig natie zet dan ook een cultuur offensief tegen de Oost Pakistan. De Urdu taal en ‘Islamitische cultuur’ waren opgelegd aan een meer homogeen bevolking van Bengal die trots was op hen taal gericht culturele waarden. De pogingen van de west Pakistan om oost Pakistan met macht onder haar duim te houden mislukten, en de oost Pakistan scheidde zich van de rest van Pakistan wat ook leidt to mislukking van ‘twee natie idee’—idee dat Moslim een aparte natie vormen op basis van hen religie. Dit weerhoud de politiek elite van Pakistan echter niet van verder Islamisering van de staat.

Het proces van islamisering die onder Bhutto, en met meer bezieling onder Zia, begon kreeg nog andere gronden die de culturele drift naar Midden Oosten versterkten. De olie economieën van midden oosten trokken arbeidskrachten aan die daar verder in aanraking kwam met salafi islam. De terugkerende migranten vervangen de ‘Hindoe-Islam’ van hen voorouders met die van hervormde salafi Islam. Die proces manifesteerde verder zich in het ontstaan van nieuw moskeeën en madrasa in de steden en dorpen van Pakistan. Daarboven kwamen toenemende investeringen van de Golf staten in economie, onderwijs en andere liefdadigheidsinstellingen. Dit resulteerde in het ontstaan van een ‘schijn cultuur van Islam’ waarin de rituelen en uiterlijk vormen van Islam een bovenhand kregen over de geestelijk zuivering van de binnen kant zoals de traditionele Sufi cultuur dat voorschreef.

Als deel van de proces van Islamisering vond er falsifiëring van geschiedenis. Geschiedenis syllabus voor scholen en universiteiten werden hergeschreven. Daarin zie je dat historische link met de culturen voor de opkomst van Islam was afgebroken. Nu begint de geschiedenis van Pakistan met het binnentreden van de eerst moslims in India—en die kwamen vanuit Arabische schiereiland. Daarboven kwam een verplicht stelling van een syllabus van Islamitische studies voor alle scholen en universiteiten. Het gevolg was het ontstaan van een moslim identiteit sui generis die de lot van moslims elders in de wereld als haar eigen lot ziet zonder enige vorm van zelfreflectie. Zo zie je een ontkenning van mensen in Pakistan over betrokken zijn van Taliban bij de zelfmoord aanslagen in Pakistan.

Nationale belang
De internationale ontwikkelingen langs de oost en de west grenzen van Pakistan zorgen ervoor dat de veiligheid instituten in Pakistan altijd erin slaagden om nationale belangen te definiëren in hen voordeel. Vanaf haar geboorte raakte Pakistan verwikkelde in een oorlog met India over de regio Kashmir. De bloedige ontstaan geschiedenis van de twee buurlanden manifesteert zich in herdefiniëren van de kwestie Kashmir als nationale belang binnen de veiligheidsapparaat van de twee landen. In Pakistan de leger slaagde stelselmatig erin onder de mom van nationale belang de politiek macht aan te grijpen. Als gevolg van die interventies heeft de leger een grote investering gedaan in economie, industrie en veiligheid en op die manier kon altijd de publieke opinie in haar voordeel kon manipuleren.

Dit alles leidt echter tot een verschuiving hoe men de nationale belang definieert. Waar eerder de nationale belang in Pakistan werd geformuleerd ten opzicht van India, de jihad of oorlog in Afghanistan tegen Russen en de naweeën ervan brachten er een verandering in. Dit oorlog leverde een poel van ‘internationale jihadisten’ op in de handen van Pakistaanse leger die zij later gebruikte tegen India over de kwestie Kashmir. Op die manier werd de kwestie geïslamiseerd. Maar die jihadisten hadden ook eigen agenda die in de vorm van Al-Qaeda naar voren kwam. Die internationale agenda vond haar ideologische steun onder Islamitische getint publiek intellectuelen in Pakistan die bijna missionaris positie zagen voor de staat: Pakistanen een missie hebben voor de belang van andere moslim te vechten.

Dit soort ideologie en zelfbeeld staat ver af van het beeld van een moderne natiestaat voor de Indiase moslim die de stichters van Pakistan voor hen oog hadden.