<<

BORDERS & BELIEFS:

ETHICS, ACTORHOOD, AND THE - CONFLICT

by

Kiran Pervez

Submitted to the

Faculty of the School of International Service

of American University

in Partial Fulfillment of

the Requirements for the Degree of

Doctor of Philosophy

in

International Relations

~ w Clth) h,__ I Dean of the School of International Service ~ 7 m4-1 c4., ~ O

2009

American University

Washington, DC 20016

AMERiCAN UNIVERSITY LIBRARY q4 oo UMI Number: 3358195

Copyright 2009 by Pervez, Kiran

All rights reserved

INFORMATION TO USERS

The quality of this reproduction is dependent upon the quality of the copy submitted. Broken or indistinct print, colored or poor quality illustrations and photographs, print bleed-through, substandard margins, and improper alignment can adversely affect reproduction. In the unlikely event that the author did not send a complete manuscript and there are missing pages, these will be noted. Also, if unauthorized copyright material had to be removed, a note will indicate the deletion. UMI®

UMI Microform: 3358195 Copyright 2009 by ProQuest LLC All rights reserved. This microform edition is protected against unauthorized copying under Title 17, Code.

ProQuest LLC 789 East Eisenhower Parkway P.O. Box 1346 Ann Arbor, Ml 48106-1346 ©COPYRIGHT

by

Kiran Pervez

2009

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED DEDICATION

I dedicate this dissertation to my parents, Seema Pervez and Pervez Hussain - I would have never thought to undertake this journey if it weren't for their love, unconditional support, encouragement, faith, and inspiration.

I would also like to mention my grandfather, Ghulam Ali Vali Mohammed Dattoobhoy, whose stories about the freedom movement, migrating to Pakistan, and the riots following independence not only gave me a sense of who I am and where I come from but have also continued to captivate and inspire me since I was a little girl. BORDERS & BELIEFS

ETHICS, ACTORHOOD, AND THE INDIA-PAKISTAN CONFLICT

BY

Kiran Pervez

ABSTRACT

This dissertation project examines why peace has continued to be elusive in the India­

Pakistan context using ethnomethodological procedures and a relational social constructivist perspective that locates constitutive power in ongoing social processes instead of putatively existing substances. I suggest that we expand our focus beyond mere 'factors' that only help identify what issues are contentious and pay attention instead to 'actors' by analyzing the meaning-making practices in which our worlds cohere. To this end, I employ two analytical concepts: ethical imaginaries and articulation. Ethical imaginaries reveal the different.rules that, for actors, circumscribe multiple ways of being themselves thereby highlighting the heterogeneity characteristic of the worlds we inhabit; these rules are ethical in so far that actors take into account how they have acted in the past and how they ought to act in the future to preserve the

'self' in a particular way. Articulation refers to the specific interpretive practices deployed in a given space-time particularity. The sites analyzed here include films about India­

Pakistan relations as well as first-hand interviews with Muhajirs in Pakistan, Muslims in India, and individuals who have been involved in Track II diplomacy efforts to understand the ethical imaginaries of 'lndian-ness' and 'Pakistani-ness' as well as the discourse around 'peace'.

What this investigation reveals is that although both nations see in the 'other' a 'friend' with whom they have enough in common to share an amicable relationship, the prospects of peace are complicated by a culture of mistrust expressed in India's characterization of the

ii iii

'Pakistani other' as 'religious fanatic' and Pakistan's perception of the 'Indian other' as a 'bully' that then renders peace complicated. I show how each of these articulations are framed by the ethical imaginary of the two-nation theory which formed the basis for the in 1947 onthe-grounds that Hindus and Muslims were distinct civilizational entities. PREFACE

One of my earliest childhood memories has to do with standing all day in front of the TV in my parents' bedroom watching a cricket match. Other than being completely enthralled by the sport itself, I remember wondering, on multiple occasions, why "they" called it black-and-white TV.

After all, there seemed to be more space on the screen that was gray rather than simply either

'black' or 'white'. Why not call it "black-and-white-and-gray" TV? That would surely be a more precise description of the visual on the screen. After all, the picture wasn't simply black and white

- the field, as far as I could tell, was composed overwhelmingly of what we conventionally recognize as the color gray.

What does any of this have to do with the India-Pakistan conflict? Metaphorically speaking, this dissertation project is an examination of the "gray" amidst the "black-and-white".

What existing academic and journalistic analyses proffer by way of a causal explanation for the

India-Pakistan conflict is that the two nuclear rivals share a "love-hate" relationship. Once they learn to put their differences aside, we are told, all relations amicable will abound. It is only because they are consumed by hatred that the balance has tilted overwhelmingly in favor of wars, military standoffs, nuclear tests, and the like. The implication here is that the India-Pakistan conflict is sustained because neither side is willing to see the 'other' as anything but a loathed enemy. If they can learn to think of the 'other' as friend, only then will peace be achieved.

In other words, what is suggested in the extant literature that concerns itself with the problematic of peace is that India and Pakistan have to unlearn difference for it is the very notion that they are 'divided' instead of 'one' or 'unifiable' that lies at the root of conflict.

So far, so "black-and-white"; each imagination of the 'other' is associated with a specific outcome.

iv v However, what if 'self' and 'other' think of one another as both 'friend' and 'foe'?

.Consider another possibility. What happens when one day the 'other' who was viewed as 'friend' is now regarded a 'foe' or vice versa? In the black-and-white version of the story, there is no room to account for either of these two possibilities except by recourse to explanations of the exogenous shocks variant. However, in the India-Pakistan context these possibilities are very real. It is these two possibilities, nay realities, that motivate this dissertation i.e. (a) heterogeneity in narrations of 'self' and 'other' as distinct from each other; and, (b) oscillations in the tenor of relations without qualitative changes in the factors thought to produce a particular political order.

Conventional black-and-white explanations overlook a third color - gray. Without this gray, the empirical heterogeneity and oscillations that characterize the relationship between two­ nation states that find themselves in a contentious relationship much like Pakistan and India simply cannot be ?-ccounted for. What happens when we think of the relationship between identities and orders not in black-and-white terms where a particular narrative is associated only with a particular outcome but, instead, embrace uncertainty or, if you will, the "gray" fields in the picture? What happens if we become open to the idea that the political order that is the India­

Pakistan relationship is the product of seemingly incongruent narratives of national identity whereby the 'other' is viewed simultaneously as 'friend' and 'foe' (among other things)? What happens if our static notions of identity are reconceptualized instead as contingent and always­ changing narrations of identity in which actors and, consequently, relations between them are always emergent? It is, in fact, this very possibility that I embrace in this dissertation to account for the persistence of conflict between India and Pakistan by moving away from 'factors' and, instead, turning to 'actors' as the source from which political order is birthed. Precisely how and why I endeavor to do so is laid out in greater depth in the next 3 chapters. ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

Anyone who commits to a dissertation project knows all too well that while it is a single­ authored endeavor it is hardly a single-handed one. I would like to take a moment or, to be more precise, a few pages, to thank those whose support gave me courage to go on.

Having read the acknowledgments sections of several dissertations, I know it is customary to begin with the names of those intimately and immediately connected to the dissertation as an intellectual product with the names of family and friends following thereafter. I want to break with that tradition a little for if it wasn't for some of my closest loved ones I wouldn't have ever set foot on this path.

First and foremost, I am eternally grateful to God for this incredible privilege that I, as a middle-class woman from Pakistan, could have never even dreamed of. Most people from my background, if they are fortunate enough to get a good education, rarely get the opportunity to pursue a path that allows them the luxury of learning for its own sake. I consider myself blessed.

On the days that it felt beyond impossible, it was my faith in God that helped me weather the uncertainty and tackle the challenge anew.

Now, a little closer to earth! To my parents, Seema and Pervez - I don't think I will ever be able to convey to them how much I appreciate all they have done and continue to do for me.

Without their support and encouragement, I would have surely pursued a more beaten path. This

PhD is as much their accomplishment as mine.

It is my parents' love that has shaped me and that keeps me going. They have taught me to believe, to question, to aspire, to have sincerity of purpose, to love learning, to imagine, to display courage in times of adversity, to never sell myself or my life short, to be passionate, and most of all, to have faith that everything is possible and that there is always a silver lining to

vi vii enjoy no matter how dark the skies and how ominous the clouds. I love you Mummy and Abu.

If my parents made the effort to provide me with access to the best opportunities in life, despite our limited means, it was not without the support of some of our extended family. I want to thank my maternal grandparents - Nazli and Anwar - for being there for my parents and me. I owe immense gratitude to my maternal aunt and uncle - Samina and Abdullah Rajabally - thank you for always treating me like your very own Khala and Abby.

Although the following individuals are no longer alive, they inspired my love for learning.

My paternal grandfather, Ghulam Ali, (whom I called 'Dada') and my great-uncle Fazal spent endless hours every day of the week for several years pretending to be my students right from when I was a toddler. Neil Postman - a brilliant professor but more so a stellar human being whose guidance, faith, and inspiration changed my life in so many ways. I continue to return to the mantra "What Would Neil Do?" as I have muddled my way through finding my own identity as an aspiring scholar over whom the heart holds greater sway.

In my dissertation chair, Patrick Thaddeus Jackson, I found a advisor whose faith in my abilities and work was unswerving. I thank him for always being "on-call" (something for which thanks are also due to his family- Holly, Quinn, and Chloe) through crises and "green points" alike, for pressing my thoughts when it hurt so badly to articulate them that I wanted to run away, and for reminding me that I was always meant to do this.

The contributions of my three other committee members have been no less than critical in seeing this project through.

f thank S. Ahmed for making time for me despite his overcommitted schedule, for standing up for me at critical junctures, and for asking questions about Pakistan that I would not have otherwise considered. f am grateful to Yosef Lapid whose support of this project has encouraged me starting with the first conversation we had about my dissertation proposal in spring 2004. His questions and writings have helped sharpen my work and provided me with the courage to explore 'religion' in a context where it is largely considered deviant, if not taboo. viii

'Hyderabad' and 'biographies' were the bond that brought me to Himadeep Muppidi. Our conversations reassured me that I belonged within 'international relations'. It was through his support that my voice rediscovered itself and was energized by a confidence it did not know previously. I am forever grateful to Hima for building a space in which I learnt how to cater to the demands of social science while also staying true to my commitments.

I also want to thank here two professors who have moved to other institutions from

American University but whose contributions I consider invaluable to my intellectual development.

I owe a sincere 'thank you' to Renee Marlin-Bennett for her ongoing support of not just my work but also me as a scholar. Mustapha Kamal Pasha's intellectual contributions are, in so many ways, etched into the very foundations of this investigation. I have continued to be inspired by his brilliant mind and am eternally grateful for his generosity and concern.

I graduate with fond memories of the years I have spent at the School of International

Service, American University completing my Ph.D.

I am particularly indebted to Dean Louis W. Goodman for engaging with my work and challenging me towards greater precision and less clutter, so to speak. His open door policy coupled with our good-humored exchanges ensured that I survived this arduous journey with a smile. Dean Goodman, I remain encouraged by your faith in me both as a scholar and as a person. Next on the agenda - a cricket-baseball exchange!

I thank Stephen Silvia for his unflinching support as Director of Doctoral Studies as well as for the enthusiasm with which he accepted all my ideas, whether they were about my research or the Ph.D. program. I also appreciate the support of Mary Barton and Nanette Levinson. I would like to thank the members of the Ph.D. committee for the experiences I was able to gain while serving as a student representative (2002-2003). The Dissertation Fellowship (2004-2005) provided to me by the School of International Service was invaluable in completing field research in Pakistan and India. I am also grateful to the program for Travel Grants that allowed me to present my work at academic conferences throughout the United States. ix

I would also like to acknowledge Salma Salim who responded promptly to my SOS calls every semester when the bureaucratic powers at the university were unkind and helped rectify my records. I am grateful to Andrea Paredes-Herrera for shipping books to me in NJ and for renewing borrowed items for me long-distance even after I'd reach the borrowing limit on my account. Finally, the following individuals assisted in making the dissertation defense and submission process go as smoothly as possible for which I remain thankful: Jonathan Hayden,

Michael Hunnicutt, Rochelle King, Elizabeth LaRocca, Susan McElrath, Alexander Mikulsky,

Katheryn Rizzo, Samuel Shepson, and the wonderful folks at the Center for Teaching Excellence.

My colleagues in the program have been a great source of support through the multiple travails of Ph.D-hood. The sustained conversations and debates I had with my cohort were instrumental in developing this project. The feedback and camaraderie of the various writing groups I was involved in sustained me through the long and arduous process of writing - thank you Jesse Crane-Seeber, Aparna Devare, Benjamin Jensen, Amal Khoury, Narendran

Kumarakulasingam, Jacob Stump, and Simon Nicholson.

Some colleagues became very close friends in this process. Amal, 'my buddy', you went out of your way all the time every time. I look forward to more laughs, rants, and girly goodness over the years. I want to thank Aparna and her husband Salil for always welcoming me to their home with such warmth. TalJlmy, you will always be a fellow 'Rani'! Jesse and his wife,

Steph, continue to bring laughs, joy, and love in my life. Naren, to say that I value your friendship seems inadequate to express my gratitude for having had your support as we both learnt to walk in these darn PhDing shoes through the ivory towers and beyond.

The 'conference circuit' has provided me with additional opportunities to cultivate relationships crucial to this process.

Sanjoy Banerjee and Andreas Behnke responded to my work with enthusiasm and their comments have improved my research significantly. David Blaney has continued to be generous with his time and his conversations have brought me much hope and calm. I am grateful to Jenny x

Edkins for both her feedback and support of my scholarship. Thanks are due to Xavier Guillaume, and his wife, Navitri lsmaya Putri Guillaume for always being there, especially during those moments when the journey felt rough and lonely. The 'Vassar crew' - Charmaine Chua, Quynh

Pham, Jason Vargas, and Tulia Zille - brought laughs, commiseration, and a well-timed reminder of why any of us erribark on this journey in the first place.

I would like to thank Peter Mandaville for conversations that helped me think through this project at several critical stages as well as for all the fun times. Peter, I hope there is tons of

Bollywood and sushi in our future. Last, but by no means the least, Naeem lnayatullah. I have yet to figure out if Naeem and I are on the same page, if he possesses unbelievable psychic powers, or if he is just a lucky guesser. Either way, our conversations have always led me back to my gut and, in that respect, have been nothing short of life-giving. I am grateful to both Naeem and his better half, Sorayya Khan, for the warmth they bring into my life. Naeem, you have become family and will always be - so long as you promise to stay in my face as it were and ask the questions you know I'm sometimes lazy to tackle but simultaneously desire to confront.

My tenure at Lehigh University as a visiting lecturer (2007-2008) in the department of international relations was instrumental in getting the darn thing done. I am grateful for the creative freedom I enjoyed there that allowed me to develop and discover my teaching and pedagogical philosophies. I would like to acknowledge the following for cheering me on throughout this process: Marissa Arvidson, Henri Barkey, Janice Bially Mattern, Will Brehm, Jo

Engel, Marian Gaumer, Dustin Mccrae, Rajan Menon, Alberto Munoz, Breck O'Neill, Michael

Raposa, Robert Rozehnal, Gabriel West, and Benjamin Wright. My teaching assistant, Steph

Berger, provided administrative support that enabled me to focus my energy regularly on writing my dissertation even while teaching full-time. The students in my ethics, international relations theories, religious resurgence, and classes at Lehigh provided a vibrant and enthusiastic audience that allowed me to work through my own commitments and untangle my arguments. xi

I would also like to thank David Briggs, ljaz Nabi, Rasul Bakhsh Rais, Mark Reese,

Shahnaz Rouse, and Aqil Shah for intellectual workouts that allowed me to refine my final argument as I neared the finish line.

I consider myself fortunate to always have been surrounded by educators who inspired me to aim higher and who believed in me - thank you: JoEllen Fisherkeller, Brett Gary, Shehnaz

Ismail, Yasmin Jaffer, Julie Jakolat, Alan Kaufman, Ted Magder, Robin R. Means-Coleman, Rona

Middleberg, Terence P. Moran, Christine Nystrom, Arvind Rajagopal, Avram Todd Schlesinger,

Nancy Silverman, and Jonathan Zimmerman. I want to thank my school principals - Sabiha

Mohammad, Yasmeen R. , and Raza K. Minhas - for giving me opportunities that allowed me to excel and grow as well as for standing by my parents and me through thick and thin.

There are several other loved ones without whose support this undertaking would not have been possible.

Maya lnayat Ismail has been the source of much happiness and a pillar of unconditional support for as long as I can remember. Between the laughs, pranks, tears, playing games in which we lived out our aspirations for adulthood, gastronomical indulgences, PIA flights to and from , Port Authority pick-ups, and Mars-Venus rants we came in to our own - together.

She and her parents, Shehnaz Ismail and lnayat Ismail, have continued to be part of my extended family and I love them dearly.

Fatima Raza Latif, Raza Latif, Qimti Tasneem, and Azad - I have been thoroughly spoilt by your hospitality and motivated by your faith in me. Thank you for always making me feel at home and loved. Fatima, our bond lights up my life.

With his eternal optimism, unwavering courage, and infectious enthusiasm, Junaid

Jamshed Khan has been a constant source of inspiration, joy, and encouragement. Junaid, you have provided me with the safest space I have ever known from which to express myself without the slightest hint of fear or hesitation. Without your friendship, patience, support, and trust, I wouldn't be 'me'. To say I cherish that falls short. xii

Zainab Latif, your support has helped me keep at it even when I wanted to run in the

opposite direction. My troika of 'male buds' - Moin Iqbal, Asif Shahid Khan, and Asad-ur-Rehman

- you put me on a pedestal while making sure my feet stayed planted on the ground. I feel

incredibly lucky to have you in my life and love you immensely.

If it weren't for the following friends and family, holding on to my sanity would have been

an arduous task through the extended solitude needed for writing: Omar Akram, Saad Dawood,

Tasneem Dossal, Waqas Fehmi, Fahmida Hussain, Adil lmran, Neerada Jacob, Maliha Jilani,

Rabia Kazmi, Misbah Naqvi, Mehdi Rizvi, Samira Saya, lram Sultan, Fiza Tai, and Saira Yamin.

I want to thank the following individuals for their generosity in hosting me while I traveled

through India and Pakistan for field research: Sabiha and Shahid Ahmed; Afshan and Abbas A.

Ahmedbhoy; Zahra Hussain; Jawairia Jilani; Zainab Latif; Farhana, Zaki, and Fatima Soomar;

Shafi and Zubi Thanawalla; and, Mosharraf Zaidi. This field research could not have been completed without the help of countless people introducing me to others within their network - I

am truly grateful for their assistance: Samina Abdullah, Iqbal Abdullah, Sabiha S. Ahmed, Afshan

A. Ahmedbhoy, Amir Dossal, Tasneem Dossal, Ambar Ellahi, Mir Saleem Ellahi, Maya lnayat

Ismail, Javed Jabbar, Kamal Jabbar, Sabiha Mohammad, Ehsaan Noorani, Shafi Thanawalla,

and Zubi Thanawalla. Finally, I want to thank all the participants who gave so generously of their time and thoughts.

This experience is one that has taught me much about life and myself. In that sense, it

will remain with me forever. I thank each and every one of you for helping me climb this mountain.

The view from up here is gorgeous but I am already planning my next journey. Onwards! TABLE OF CONTENTS

ABSTRACT ...... ii

PREFACE ...... iv

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS ...... vi

LIST OFTABLES ...... xiv

LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS ...... xv

Chapter

1. INTRODUCING THE PUZZLE: OF OSCILLATIONS & HETEROGENEITY ...... 1

2. FROM FACTORS TO ACTORS: A RELATIONAL METHODOLOGY ...... 32

3. THE TWO NATION THEORY AS ETHICAL IMAGINARY ...... 67

4. THE OTHER WITHIN I: ARTICULATING 'PAKISIAN' ...... 89

5. THE OTHER WITHIN II: ARTICULATING 'INDIA' ...... 141

6. LIGHTS, CAMERA, ACTION!: BOLLYWOOD & IMAGINING PEACE ...... 181

7. THE PURSUIT OF PEACE ...... 223

8. CONCLUDING REFLECTIONS: BORDERS, BELIEFS, & ORDERS ...... 261

REFERENCES ...... 277

xiii LIST OF TABLES

Table Page

1. Differences between Orthodox Islam and Orthodox Hinduism ...... 71

xiv LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS

Figure Page

1. Map of Kashmir ...... 6

xv CHAPTER 1

INTRODUCING THE PUZZLE: OF OSCILLATIONS

AND HETEROGENEITY

On November 26, 2008, the Indian city of was hit by terrorist attacks. Although the city stayed under siege for a little over three days, it took merely the first couple of hours for the peace process between Pakistan and India, which had already been fledgling for.a few months by then, to become a casualty of these events.

As the attacks unfolded, India accused Pakistan of allowing terrorists safe haven to enter Mumbai and execute these attacks. Pakistan denied any involvement while expressing sympathy for the victims. Pakistan was repeatedly pronounced as a "religious fanatic" in the

Indian national narrative. At the same time, Pakistan complained publicly about India's

"aggressive" tactics and New 's overwhelming tendency to assign blame to Pakistan for all violence within its boundaries.

On the face of it, this seems like a typical story about confrontations between nation­ states in which the 'other' is demonized because s/he is believed to have done something wrong in the eyes of the 'self'. Here we have an India and a Pakistan that have much to fight about that stands in the way of reconciliation - namely the disputed territory of Kashmir, religious differences, a manipulative power elite, and the trauma of partition. However, the story gets much more complicated if you contrast all of these contentious obstacles against the fact that for over five years now these two nuclear rivals have been engaged in a peace process deemed 'historic' in so far that it has represented, for the first time in their histories as independent nation-states, an unprecedented commitment to peace with the Pakistani/Indian 'other'.

Why, despite moves towards peace, did contentiousness come home to roost? If 2 contentiousness has been the norm, how did such a strong peace initiative in the form of the composite dialog process in which Pakistan and India have been engaged since 2003 come about in the first place? If both India and Pakistan were committed to peace this time round, why didn't it stick? To recast the question more broadly, historically speaking, if there has been and continues to be a desire for peace in both India and Pakistan, why has animosity persisted? Why, despite being able to envision a relationship between 'self' and 'other' as 'friends' and 'neighbors', do Pakistan and India repeatedly succumb to seeing the 'other' as 'foe' and engage in actions that heighten tensions and produce conflict?

These questions are not new or unique to contemporary times. In fact, a closer study of the India-Pakistan relationship is likely to reveal that the oscillations that prompt this line of questioning are fairly typical of the India-Pakistan context. Going back merely to the last decade will illustrate how this is the case. As a matter of fact, between the years 1998 and 2008 the India­

Pakistan relationship has experienced varied extremes ranging from military confrontation to a composite dialog process at a pace that is more frenzied than has been the norm.

In May 1998 India conducted nuclear tests after which Pakistan followed suit days later.

Although grandiose ambitions of influencing global politics played a role in shaping the nuclear programs of both countries, there is no denying that nuclear politics, particularly at the domestic and regional levels, are symbolically connected with security in the wake of another confrontation with the Indian or Pakistani 'other', as the case may be, rather explicitly. As Arundhati Roy points out "[t]he bomb is India. India is the bomb. Not just India, Hindu India. Therefore, be warned, any criticism of it is not just anti-national but anti-Hindu .... Of course in Pakistan the bomb is Islamic"

(1998, 8).

A similar logic of divisiveness where religion is part of the basis of fighting with the

'other' found its way as the justification for the "Kargil Crisis" in May-July 1999 when Indian and

Pakistani forces fought a limited war in the Kashmir Valley. That leaders from both sides exchanged nuclear threats, direct and indirect, at least thirteen times during this war is ominous 3 indeed (Bidwai and Vanaik 2000, xii). Kargil was not only another event that confirmed that the conflict between India and Pakistan is alive and kicking but, in its wake, political analysts worldwide have concurred that the likelihood of a nuclear confrontation in South Asia remains dangerously high. While the success and promise of nuclear deterrence as improving regional security is a principle that both Indian and Pakistani leadership highlight to make the case that they are responsible nuclear powers, it is indeed an ominous sign that these rivals have gone to war in the Kargil region of Kashmir in 1999 and been engaged in a military standoff in 2001-2002 all within a five years period following the nuclear tests in May 1998. Missile testing and war games at the India-Pakistan border continue to be routine even today.

Following a military standoff that began in December 2001 and lasted through the summer of 2002, the belligerent animosity between India and Pakistan underwent a significant thaw with the initiation of a composite peace process in 2003. This initiative was met with a great deal of euphoria on both sides of the border as well as amongst the international community.

Emphasizing the need to set aside pointless animosity, both Pakistan and India embraced the idea of a newfound friendship on the basis of similarities such as a shared past, customs, traditions, etc. However, what is ironic, as well as noteworthy, here is that in the India-Pakistan context the very symbols and stories in which the hope for peace and friendship can be located are also that can be redeployed and used to invoke oneness are simultaneously divisive. For example, the shared history of the time that the Mughal Emperor Akbar was in power is often something to which Indians and Pakistanis point to justify the notion of Hindu-Muslim, and, by extension India-Pakistan, unity. However, the 'shared past' that can be the basis for affinities is equally the source of bitter hatred such as widespread violence and riots that were sparked during partition/independence in August 1947 whereby friends became strangers, even bitter enemies, overnight as Indians and Pakistanis killed each other and trains full of dead bodies of immigrants arrived on both sides once the boundaries of both countries were announced formally by the British Empire. 4

Over the last two years, India and Pakistan have found themselves intertwined in an uneasy limbo whereby despite repeated commitments to peace tensions have continued to mount rather steadily. In November 2008, following the attacks in Mumbai, this peace process not only came to a standstill but, at times, even appears to be in danger of being reversed.

That the composite dialog process at the government level and informal initiatives fashioned in the name of Track II diplomatic efforts continue to be punctuated by developments such as missile tests that are often defended as "nationalism tests", skirmishes between Indian and Pakistani forces at the Siachen Glacier, terrorist attacks, and inflammatory rhetoric by public officials in the media all point us in the direction of an ongoing battle between seeing in the 'other' a 'foe' as well as a 'friend' simultaneously. Missile tests depict actions legitimated in the name of animosity with the other while track II efforts bespeak a commitment to peace. While this sentiment is something most Indians and Pakistanis will acknowledge, unfortunately, the extant scholarship has been remiss in theorizing its role in its attempts to explain the persistence of conflict despite the existence of peace initiatives in the India-Pakistan context. Rather than accounting for oscillations in relations and the empirical heterogeneity that characterizes multiple articulations of 'self' and 'other', this research has been focused solely on the factors that bring these two nuclear rivals to blows.

As noted in the prelude, there are two aspects of "grayness" - empirical heterogeneity and oscillations in the tenor of relations - that warrant attention in trying to explain the India­

Pakistan relationship, particularly with respect to the question of the inability to achieve piece.

The remainder of this chapter seeks to establish the importance of these two concerns to this study. To do so, I start off by providing an overview of the explanatory logic on offer in the existing scholarship on the India-Pakistan conflict. Next, I highlight the precise ways in which this literature falls short in accounting for the relationship between Pakistan and India. Based on this discussion, I propose that we turn to explanations that problematize "actors" rather than "factors" 5

to better theorize political order, which is, in this case, the relationship shared by Pakistan and

India that, despite peace efforts, remains fairly conflictual.

The Literature: Identifying Contentious Factors

The extant scholarship on the India-Pakistan conflict remains overwhelmingly focused

on attributing causal power to one or more of four factors as the source of conflict. These include

'Kashmir', a 'manipulative power-hungry political elite', 'religion', and 'the trauma of partition' to

explain the absence of peace between India and Pakistan. Within this research, especially in

more contemporary works, an increasing number of scholars have paid attention, albeit in a

tertiary way, to meaning-making. These accounts share an important overlap with the basic

premise of constructivism to the extent that they presume that social life is a direct consequence

of the ways in which people interpret their experiences. However, that is as far as the similarity

goes. The blame for ongoing hostilities is placed squarely on the shoulders of misplaced

· meaning-making where it is assumed that people have been either duped or are blinded by

hatred; had they figured out what 'religious differences' or the 'trauma of partition' really mean

then the relationship between these two rivals would be peaceful. In other words,

constructedness serves as a means to highlight the problem of false consciousness rather than to

locate those practices of meaning-making in which identities and socio-political orders are

continually articulated. The basic argument of this group of scholars represents an attempt to

mount their protest against the meanings currently in circulation of 'other' as 'enemy' as false

while the truer, more authentic narratives of 'other' as 'friend' or 'neighbor' remain obscured or

buried. For these writers, it is only by rescuing the latter that the conflict between the two nuclear

rivals can be resolved.

The remainder of this section surveys the explanations surrounding the four factors

believed to be contentious, in a causal sense, in the India-Pakistan context. I start with the

dispute over Kashmir. 6

Kashmir

This disputed territory is quite widely regarded as the core of the conflict between India and Pakistan. The area to which Kashmir refers is constituted by the following territories: the

Indian-administered state of Jammu and Kashmir; the Pakistani-administered region of the

Kashmir Valley known as Azad (Independent) Kashmir a11d Northern Areas; and, lastly Aksai

Chin that is administered by China. The map below provides a visual illustration of the Kashmir region as well as bordering areas of Pakistan, India, and China immediately surrounding it.

Figure 1: Map of Kashmir; Source: Reprinted, public domain map downloaded on March 20, 2008 and available on the University of Texas Libraries website at the following URL: http://www.lib.utexas.edu/maps/middle_east_and_asia/kashmir_disputed_2003.jpg

India and Pakistan have been fought full-fledged military wars over Kashmir three times in the last sixty years: in 1947-48, 1965, and. The most recent confrontation over Kashmir in summer 1999 was limited to the Kargil region and followed closely on the heels of nuclear tests by both India and Pakistan in May 1998.

According to the agreement made at the time of independence between the newly independent states of India and Pakistan with the British Empire, princely states in the Indian

Union under British Rule could opt to join either of the two newly born nation-states or remain 7

1 independent . Although not formally stated, the general trend that emerged as these states made their decision to accede to either India or Pakistan followed the religious make-up of the majority of the population; Hindu-majority states joined India whereas Muslim majority ones opted for

Pakistan.

Since the population of the Kashmiri state was overwhelmingly Muslim, it was expected ( the Maharaja Hari Singh would accede to Pakistan. After waiting for weeks following partition in

August 1947, the Maharaja signed a treaty that rendered his state part of the Indian Union following an onslaught by tribal fighters who believed that the unity of their tribes would be in danger if Kashmir became part of India. Although the maintained that these fighters were acting of their own volition, the Indian government claimed that these fighters were state-sponsored terrorists backed by Pakistan. To date, this is an argument that continues to function as an obstacle in the context of peace talks between India and Pakistan. India maintains that Pakistan trains and/or provides shelter to groups that cross the border and commit terrorist acts in the Kashmir Valley and throughout India. Pakistan refers to some of these groups and individuals as "freedom fighters" rather than jihadi outfits who are committed to defending their fellow Muslims against Indian atrocities. Additionally, the Pakistani government claims that it in no way extends any support to jihadist elements and groups such as Lashkar-e-Taiyyaba and

Jaish-e-Mohammad that have been declared terrorist organizations in recent years by the United

States. The Indian government contradicts this claim arguing that Pakistan ought to prevent these groups from operating and launching attacks from within its borders in order for peace negotiations to be successful as well as continue. Pakistan insists that it has the right and, more importantly, a responsibility to protect the Kashmiri people from Indian atrocities.

More specifically, with respect to the dispute over Kashmir, the Pakistani position is that the accession documents signed by Maharaja Hari Singh are invalid for there is no proof that they were signed prior to the invasion of the into the Kashmiri Valley, that Indian troops

1 It is estimated that the number of princely states or kingdoms under nominal administration of the was well in excess of 500 prior to independence in August 1947. 8 must evacuate the Kashmiri Valley, and that a plebiscite must be held to determine the will of the

Kashmiri people. India maintains that the document signed by the Maharaja is valid and reflects the will of the people both of whom were threatened by the invasion of Pakistani-based tribal fighters in 1947. The Indian claim over Kashmir is grounded in the rationale that nations ought to be governed by secular logic - that a Muslim state ceded to the Indian Union further proves that the notion of a religious state like Pakistan is an anomaly, perhaps even an absurdity. The

Pakistani claim over Kashmir is grounded in the logic of the two-nation theory out of which this state was born. An in-depth history of the two-nation theory is provided in chapter 3. Briefly, this theory maintains that the Hindus and Muslims are two distinct civilizations intertwined in an antagonistic relationship that necessitates a separate state for Muslims to safeguard their existence and rights that a Hindu majority doesn't seem inclined to guarantee. Consequently,

Pakistan's position on Kashmir emerges from the same idea that informed and spurred the

Pakistan Movement in the 1940s - that the Kashmiri Muslims ought to be freed from oppressive

Hindu domination.

Manipulation at the hands of the political elite

The storyline of the 'manipulative political elite' explanation draws its logic from the notion that this group is following in the footsteps of the "divide and rule" policy of The British Raj that led to the breakup of the in 1947 (Ganguly 1986). The basic argument suggests that the reason why India and Pakistan have been unable to resolve their differences is because of a power-hungry political elite that continues to incite hatred for the Indian/Pakistani

'other' in the name of a national pride only to detract attention from its own ineptitude at being able to govern effectively (Ganguly 1986). The argument follows a conspiratorial logic much like the narrative in which the British are often blamed for instilling communal hatred in the Indian subcontinent to maintain their hegemony. All that has changed are the faces of the political elite.

First it was the British, now it's those who hold high political office on both sides of the border who 9 have sown bitter seeds of divisiveness and hatred thereby fooling the masses and inspiring in them a desire to support, if not participate in, the destruction of the Pakistani/Indian 'other'. In other words, difference itself becomes a manipulative plot of these "godsquadders from hell [that] have colonized the public imagination" (Roy 2003, 35-36). The political elite is perceived here as an illegitimate force that has succeeded in vilifying the 'other' even though the masses do not really believe in the narrative of animosity. If given a chance, it is argued, they will realize that the

'other' is really a 'friend' or 'neighbor' thereby dissipating difference and, consequently, conflict.

Religion

The India-Pakistan conflict is most widely perceived, in both academic circles and public discourse, as a confrontation organized around communalism fueled by a militant consciousness of religious differences between Hindus and Muslims. One of the most precise summaries of how this narrative is operationalized appears in the following excerpt from War Talk

(2003) by Arundhati Roy. Speaking of communal violence between Hindus and Muslims in India as inextricably linked with the role played by religion in shaping India-Pakistan relations, Roy claims that:

It [i.e. religion] has been injecting a slow-release poison directly into civil society's bloodstream. Hundreds of RSS shakhas and Saraswati shishu mandirs across the country have been indoctrinating thousands of children and young people, stunting their minds with religious hatred and falsified history, including unfactual or wildly exaggerated accounts of the rape and pillaging of Hindu women and Hindu temples by Muslim rulers in the precolonial period. They're no different from, and no less dangerous than, the madrassas all over Pakistan and which spawned the Taliban. In states like Gujarat, the police, the administration, and the political cadres at every level have been systematically penetrated. The whole enterprise has huge popular appeal, which it would be foolish to underestimate or misunderstand. It has a formidable religious, ideological, political, and administrative underpinning. This kind of power, this kind of reach, can only be achieved with state backing.

Some madrassas, the Muslim equivalent of hothouses cultivating religious hatred, try and make up in frenzy and foreign funding what they lack in state support. They provide the perfect foil for Hindu communalists to dance their dance of mass paranoia and hatred. (2003, 28-29) 10

From the excerpt above, it is amply clear that issue is taken with the violence that religious nationalism has often justified. According to this perspective, it is an awakening of an exclusivist religious consciousness that causes Hindus and Muslims to see each other as distinct civilizations thirsty for each other's blood because of their irrational attachments to faith as a mode of political expression. Here Hindu-Muslim differences are envisioned as the outcome of a static world-view in which the mere presence of religion is enough to guarantee that Hindu India and Muslim Pakistan will remain at loggerheads (Burke 1974). Here religion and politics are linked in monolithic terms with only one possible outcome - violence and conflict. The only pathway to peace, this scholarship implies, is through denouncing religious consciousness itself as a basis of identity claims.

The Trauma Of A Bitter & Violent Partition

It is only in recent years that the partition has begun to be studied, more so in India than in Pakistan, from the perspective of oral history rather than a political history which recounts only the glorious moments of the nation and the lives and contributions of those in the highest echelons (Butalia 2000; Nandy 2008; Pandey 2001 ).

In order to describe the ways in which this event has been linked to India-Pakistan relations and elaborate on the shortcomings of this narrative, some historical background is in order.

Pakistan was granted independence from the British Raj on August 14, 1947; for India, this date fell on August 15, 1947. It is telling that in Pakistani discourse this event is referred to as

"independence" while the same in India is popularly described as "partition". The nation-state of

Pakistan was founded on the idea of the two-nation theory that draws on an observation by the

Muslim scholar Al-Beruni in 1001 AD in his book Kitab-al-Hindto argue that Hindus and Muslims are two distinct civilizations in every which way so that between them there is not and cannot be any overlap and that form a socio-political order in which co-existence is, at best, challenging 11

(Ahmed 1997a and 1997b; Jalal 2000). It was not until 1930 that this notion became the basis of the demand for a separate Pakistan by the Indian Muslim League (Jalal 2000). The Indian

National Congress was vociferously opposed to this notion and its responses ranged from a dismissal of religious differences as irrelevant to politics on the grounds that the business of the state ought to be governed by secular ideas to an insistence that the Indian subcontinent represented a harmonious medley of multiple religious beliefs that have lived together for centuries and ought to continue to do so in a united India (Collins and Lapierre 1997). This difference of opinion led to a growing resentment between these communities during the the course of the freedom movement, particularly after the Pakistan Resolution was officially passed by the Muslim League in on March 23, 1940 (Collins and Lapierre 1997). This was the juncture at which an independent Indian subcontinent appeared to be a reality and the two largest political parties in the subcontinent continued to disagree with each other with respect to their vision of a free and independent India after the departure of the British. The Muslim League wanted an independent Pakistan; the Congress was insistent upon preserving the unity that was

Akhand Bharat (undivided India). On the eve of partition/independence, the boundaries of the new nations had yet to be formally announced. As Indians and Pakistanis rejoiced most presumed a very different kind of geographical reality than the one that transpired on August 17,

1947. It was then that all hell broke loose. The borders that had been drawn by the Radcliffe

Boundary Commission and, presumably, altered by Lord Mountbatten (then Viceroy of India) to favor Nehru's wishes hardly reflected the social and political realities on the ground vis-a-vis the cleavages that people had lived in for decades if not centuries. People found themselves on the

"wrong" side of the border as it were when the exact boundaries were announced and, thus, rushed to safety as sectarian riots between Hindus, Muslims, and resulted in bloodbath \ after bloodbath (Butalia 2000). The madness of the violence continued. It wasn't about geography, as Butalia, tells us but rather what decisions about geography signified:

Not only were people separated overnight, and friends became enemies, homes became strange places, strange places now had to be claimed as home, a line was drawn to mark 12

a border, and boundaries began to find reflection in people's lives and minds. Identities had suddenly to be redefined: if you were a Punjabi one day, sharing a cultural space with other , you now had to put aside all such markers of identity- cultural, linguistic, geographical, economic - and privilege only one, your religion. You had to partition your mind, and close off all those areas that did not fit the political division around you. (2000, 285)

The savage violence that ensued as a result of these political divisions is what dominates the conversation around this event in history textbooks, public discourse, newly emerging oral histories, partition literature (i.e. novels and short stories written about 1947), national collective memory, folklore, newspaper editorials, and so on and so forth. While there were a great number of stories about a Hindu saving his Muslim neighbor, these were, by far, outnumbered by stories

2 of rapes and brutal murders of the Hindu/Muslim/Sikh 'other' . In his biography Once Upon a

Time, Omar Kureishi, a famous Pakistani cricket commentator and author, records his observations of the days prior to partition/independence in August 1947 before his family migrated to Pakistan from India:

It was a surreal world, though it didn't seem at the time. The occurrence of communal riot had become routine, it was their intensity that increased. Hindus were killing Muslim and Muslims were killing Hindus as if it was a ritual. Who were the people who were getting killed? Not any of the firebrands, the so-called leaders who were fanning the flames of hatred. It was the nameless, faceless man in the street who, whatever shape and form India would take, would not be a shareholder in the spoils. His karma or kismet would not change except for the worse. There was the certainty that India was plunging head-on into chaos and though there was still a semblance of law and order, no attempt was made to apprehend those who killed, in broad daylight, in the name of religion or the fact of it. (2000, 242)

Several scholars have suggested that it was the bitter memories of violence that continue to haunt the Indian and Pakistani national psyche. They argue that it is an inability to forget what happened then that continues to lock these two nations in perpetual animosity. Here the trauma of 1947 is almost always connected with religion vis-a-vis the violence that ensued and/or the logic of the boundaries of the newly formed states of Pakistan and India or even that all-menacing power elite. For example, Racine, elaborating on what he refers to as the "India

2 I discuss partition/independence in greater detail in the empirical section of this dissertation, particularly in my interviews with Muhajirs in Pakistan and Indian Muslims. For now what is important to know are the broader details of this event to get a sense of what that space and time were like in and around August 1947. 13

syndrome" in Pakistan argues that the latter's adversarial construction of her neighbor is a

psychological residue of unresolved issues from the time of partition/independence that has been

used purposefully by several parties desirous of consolidating their own power (2002, 204-214).

Similarly, Udayakumar predicts that India and Pakistan will remain inextricably linked in a conflict

until they can stop returning to 194 7 as the reference point for their relationship {1997, 921-922).

He insists that acts of aggression committed in the name of religion at the time of partition serve

as a double whammy insofar that memories of violent acts committed in 1947 and justified on the

basis of faith will always promp! revenge (Udayakumar 1997, 923-924).

To its credit, explanations of the India-Pakistan conflict that look to the trauma of

partition as a causal factor are rather unlike the objectified, detached histories that reduce

partition or independence to nothing more than the inevitable result of communal hatred. The story of partition has made a sincere attempt, especially since the 1990s, to capture a more complex reality.

A reality that is able to embrace the contradictory feelings of love and hate that simultaneously form the basis of India-Pakistan relations and that moves beyond a myopic focus on religiously motivated divisions while grappling with the complicated identities in which these

rifts arose in pre-partition India and continue to thrive today in the India-Pakistan context. The work of Urvashi Butalia (2000) is seminal in this strand of scholarship.

Among the many oral histories that she shares with her readers, the memories of one

Bir Bahadur Singh provide an illustrative glimpse into the intricacies of identities and boundaries that undergird India-Pakistan relations (Butalia 2000). Bir Bahadur Singh was a Sikh survivor of

partition who resided in a small village in the district of Rawalpindi in present-day Pakistan till the

late spring of 194 7 after which he was forced to migrate to India in the wake of communal riots.

Although his account is not devoid of demonization of and hatred for the Muslim 'other' whom he

blames for violating the territorial integrity of his motherland - his beloved Hindustan, Singh is 14 simultaneously sympathetic to the plight of the 'Muslim others' and the legitimacy of their demand for a separate nation. He recalls:

If we [Sikhs and Hindus] went to their [Muslims] houses and took part in their weddings and ceremonies, they really used to respect and honour us .... And our dealings with them were so low that I am ashamed to say it...Two people living in the same village and one loves the other so much while the other hates him so much that we will not eat food cooked by his hand and will not even touch him .... If we had been willing to drink from the same cups, we would have remained united, we would not have had these differences, thousands of lives would not have been lost, and there would have been no Partition. (Butalia 2000, 176-182)

Weaving together similar stories and contextualizing them within existing historical accounts and documents, Butalia succeeds in establishing that partition or independence was not a simple, geopolitical fact but the result of complicated and contradictory divisions that find resonance even today. Exploring the terrain of memory that moves away from high politics and privileges individual stories and experiences rather than grand political narratives, Butalia locates in it a hope for peace (2000). For her, an ongoing exchange and public sharing of memories that portray an ambivalent relationship with the 'other' serves as a prescription for peace and reconciliation between two neighbors who lived within the same territorial boundaries not too long ago (Butalia 2000, 3). Quoting Bir Bahadur Singh, Butalia's study is motivated by the following sentiment: "once you have fought what is there left but to make up, what is there left but friendship" (Butalia 2002, 149).

The Inadequacy Of Factor-Based Approaches

The bulk of the scholarship on the India-Pakistan conflict proceeds to identify one or more of the factors outlined in the previous section as the cause(s) that trigger(s) conflict between

India and Pakistan. I call this a factor-based or factor-centric approach. Although this research undoubtedly provides valuable insights with respect to producing detailed descriptions of the contentiousness of particular factors like 'Kashmir' or 'religious difference', what it ignores is their precise causal role in the process. Simply, each of these factors is attributed rather presumptively as the sum total of notions of "lndian-ness" and "Pakistani-ness" that compel both countries 15 towards hostility and that is where the story ends. While it is certainly important to identify contentious issues, restricting ourselves to merely identifying these factors and then presuming them as integral to the national identities of India and Pakistan in ways that rallies both nations to fight is inadequate on two counts.

First, factor-centric accounts presume, rather than explain the connection between

'factors' and the 'identities' to which they belong in whose names actions that shape political life are taken. How is this problematic?

Let us consider, as an example, the strand of research that focuses on the history of the dispute over Kashmir to account for the India-Pakistan conflict.

This scholarship emphasizes that the images held by India and Pakistan of their respective claims to the territories circumscribed within their national boundaries are to blame for ongoing hostilities, including armed conflict. For example, writing about the first India-Pakistan war of 1947-1848, Gupta suggests that it is the clash between India's vision of a secular state as propounded by the Indian National Congress during the freedom movement and the vision of the

Muslim League of Pakistan as a state comprising of all the Muslim majority areas of the Indian

Union that is ultimately responsible for the dispute over Kashmir (1966, 440). For India, the dispute over Kashmir is the sole outcome of a belligerent Pakistan that continues to defile the boundaries of the Indian union. For Pakistan, India's secular rhetoric is only a facade for continued domination and oppression of Muslims throughout India and particularly the Kashmiri

Valley.

Although this scholarship exhibits an acute awareness of the symbolic construction of the dispute over Kashmir, its insistence on seeing this being solely a matter of territory that once solved will end the India-Pakistan conflict displays a certain shortsightedness that undermines its own contributions.

To elaborate, what these scholars miss, despite it being part of the historical tale that allows them to describe why Kashmir continues to be bone of contention between India and 16

Pakistan, is that they don't quite spin the causal tale forward with respect to the significance of meaning-making practices. Simply, what they fail to recognize is that there is nothing inherent about 'Kashmir' or 'territorial disputes' that causes conflict but rather the meanings with which they are imbued. This is particularly surprising in the India-Pakistan context given the fact that at the time of partition, disputes over the accession of princely states like Hyderabad and Junagadh were equally contentious and fraught with ambiguity.

For example, in the case of Hyderabad, its accession to India as opposed to Pakistan became a matter of bitter contestation. The Nawab was a Muslim governing a state with a Hindu majority. At the time of partition, he continued to resist becoming part of a united India and suggested, at various critical junctures, that he would much rather throw in his lot with Pakistan

(Guha 2007). During this period, harassment under communal groups continued to rise, particularly at the hands of the Razakars which was a private militia army organized by Kasim

Rizvi who saw himself as the "Jinnah of Hyderabad" (Guha 2007, 68-69). In September 1948, the

Indian government, frustrated by the increasing violence and the Nawab's indecision, sent in an army after which it took merely days for the Nawab to agree to accede to India (Guha 2007).

Although Pakistan protested against the use of military force and disputed the legality of the inclusion of Hyderabad in the Indian Union claiming that no accession documents were signed, not much came of this. The only conflict related to the accession of Hyderabad to India was the matter of the Nizam's monetary wealth (the equivalent of 30 million GBP today) which has been resolved recently in April 2008 in an out-of-court settlement between India and Pakistan.

Similarly, the case of Junagadh is another significant territorial dispute in the India­

Pakistan context. Junagadh was a in the southwestern end of the state of Gujrat. It was separated from Pakistan by the Arabian Sea. Nawab Mahabat Khanji, the Prince of

Junagadh, decided to formally accede to Pakistan on August 17, 1947. His request was accepted by the Pakistani government in September 1947. The Indian government protested arguing that it should be included in the Indian Union given that the state had a predominantly Hindu population 17

and that it was geographically contiguous within Indian territory (Burke 1974 ). Pakistan's

argument in response to India's was that because Junagadh's Nawab had decided to accede to

Pakistan there was no question of a dispute (Burke 1974 ). Additionally, Pakistan retorted that

\ Junagadh, by virtue of being on the coastline of the Arabian Sea, could maintain maritime links

with it (Burke 1974). The matter could not be resolved amicably.

The case of Jungadh, was raised by then Prime Minister of Pakistan Liaquat Ali Khan in

a meeting with Indian Prime Minister in an effort to reach some sort of solution

(Jones 2002, 68-69). Prime Minister Khan argued that Junagadh was the mirror image of Kashmir with the parties reversed (Jones 2002, 68-69). On 29 October, 1947 US officials at the Embassy

in told the State Department that "the obvious solution [was] ... for the government

leaders in Pakistan and India to agree ... [to the] accession of Kashmir to Pakistan and the

accession of Hyderabad and Junagadh to India" based on the ideological principles out of which the territorial boundaries and national identities of both countries had been crafted (Jones 2002,

68-69). India insisted that Pakistan void the document of accession and hold a plebiscite.

Eventually, the state was annexed by the Indian army in November 1947 after which a

plebiscite was held in which 99% of the population voted to accede to India shortly (Menon 1956).

At this time, the Indian army formally took control of the state amid protests from the Pakistani government claiming that the accession of the state of Jungadh had already been formally accepted on September 13, 1947 while the Nawab and his family fled to Karachi, Pakistan

(Gandhi 1991).

Although Pakistan continues to claim that the document of accession was legally valid and takes precedence over the plebiscite this chapter, along with that of Hyderabad, is technically considered closed3 unlike that of Jammu and Kashmir. Consequently, presuming that territorial

3 The grandson of Nawab Mahabat Khanji, Nawab Muhammad Jahangir Khanji, however continues to wage a struggle to get back Junagadh by what he would describe as peaceful means. 18 disputes will always produce ongoing or protracted conflict, especially given the particulars of the

India-Pakistan context, is a problematic oversimplification to say the least.

Comparing the cases of Junagadh, Hyderabad, and Jammu-Kashmir side by side beckons us to be mindful of the fact that while each of these were territorial disputes it is only

Jammu-Kashmir that continues to be associated with the India-Pakistan conflict. This is not to say that the accession processes of the states of Hyderabad and Junagadh were sans violence.

However, in each of these two instances the contentions were limited to relatively short-term violence. Although Pakistan maintains that the accession of these two states to India was illegal, the dispute over these two territories is considered as something in the past.

In this vein, a historical explanation of Kashmir as the bone of contention by virtue of being a disputed territory does provide us with relevant insights with respect to its symbolic significance. However, that these do not form the backbone of the causal explanation proffered by scholars working within this tradition, leads to a problem of reification whereby the presence of territorial disputes is equated with protracted hostilities and conflict. What is imperative, then, in any study of the relationship between Kashmir and the India-Pakistan conflict, is an understanding of - or at least an ability to account for - those precise mechanisms which render the outcomes of the problematic accessions and territorial disputes over Kashmir.versus those over Junagadh and Hyderabad.

As with Kashmir, religion is often cast in similar explanatory terms where it is pres·umed that identifications sought from religious affiliations are inherently problematic. While it is true that there are many who see the Indian/Pakistani 'other' as 'enemy' by pitting Islam and Hinduism against each other as diametrically opposing worldviews, there are countless others who fashion different communities or narratives while acknowledging, at the same time, the divide between these two faiths.

Case in point: the millions of Muslims who elected to remain in India at the time of independence in 1947 rather than migrating to Pakistan. For this group that publicly supported 19 the efforts of the Indian National Congress to demand a united India following the departure of the

British Raj, their faith did not seem to clash with notions of being 'Indian'. Being 'Muslim' was certainly not enough to elicit declarations in favor of 'Pakistan' for them. Or, if they did participate

in the freedom movement as supporters of the Muslim League's demand for an independent

homeland, their inability to migrate, for economic or other logistical reasons, hosted the possibility of narrating their faith in ways that it could be reconciled with being 'Indian'. Within this collective of Muslims, then, the link between religion and nationalism was narrated somewhat differently resulting in a whole other set of national allegiances that remains largely unaccounted for, or, for that matter, unaccountable even, given the ways in which religious nationalism has been narrowly conceptualized in academic studies of the India-Pakistan conflict.

Alternatively, even if one were to buy the argument that religious nationalism is the factor that has sustained the India-Pakistan conflict, in that religion as a basis for identity always breeds contention, it becomes impossible to explain the various peace initiatives and collaborative endeavors (e.g. proposals for an India-Pakistan- gas pipeline project) between these two nuclear rivals. Certainly religion did not magically disappear from the equation to allow for these events to take place. That is the precise twist that the extant literature emphasizing religious nationalism as the causal factor animating the India-Pakistan conflict overlooks given their assumptions that the link between religion and nationhood can only birth violence and conflict. They fail to acknowledge that religion can, and often has been, configured in multiple ways in the India-Pakistan context.

This line of thinking is best exemplified by Udayakumar's claim who insists that India and Pakistan are likely condemned to a lifetime of animosity since the religious divide that structures their relationship is a commitment of faith which is often eternal and non-negotiable

(1997, 921-922). If religion is conceptualized as inherently divisive in the manner that

Udayakumar (1997) describes then we, as academics, have no choice but to remain mute when it 20

comes to explaining the emergence of strategic alliances between India and Pakistan as well as the peace process that has been ongoing between these two neighboring countries since 2003.

Carrying the argument forward, scholars like Udayakumar (1997 & 2005) often turn to

secularism as a possible solution to the dilemma of the conflict between India and Pakistan. Here, the elimination of religion from politics and as a basis for nationalistic affiliations is what is

proposed as the means towards peace and stability in the region. From this perspective, the

nation, as a political community, is meant to be organized along secular lines with the conflict being theorized as an inevitable outcome of the entrance of religion into the political sphere.

These scholars often envision a kind of South Asian Federation that unites Indians and Pakistanis alike (Sardar 1992; Udayakumar 1997). The way to achieve this, it is proposed, is to redefine relationships along secular lines that emphasize common languages, ethnicities, and history instead of communal boundaries. The rationale for doing so finds its justification in equating religious bases for collective identity as inherently conflictual and dismissing them as illusory

(Burke 1974; Roy 1998; Sardar 1992; Udayakumar 1997). Perhaps religion has been used frequently to justify violence but, as will be illustrated in the empirical discussion presented in this dissertation, that is by no means the only deployment of religion in the India-Pakistan context.

Additionally, the dismissal of religious bases of national affiliation by this approach as illusory is problematic. One must not forget that it has been deployed in ways that have played a role in shaping Indian and Pakistani identities, and, consequently, form an integral part of the landscape of India-Pakistan relations. Irrespective of whether we like or dislike the very notion of religious-based nationalism, rejecting its validity is neither practical nor helpful in mounting a causal explanation of the persistence of conflict between India and Pakistan. What these accounts, then, lack is sensitivity to the prospect that the presence of religion in organizing political life is not inherently problematic. As Bose and Jalal's study reminds us, it was a fusion of

Hindu and Muslim principles and practices that characterized the success of Mughal rule in India and that gave birth to a unique Inda-Islamic culture (1998). Similarly, while there were millions of 21 people that celebrated India's nuclear tests as a triumph of Hindu fundamentalism and Pakistan's bomb as Islamic in May 1998 an equal number reinterpreted, rather denounced, the symbolism

\ declaring these tests as the very antithesis of religiosity and unequivocally irrational (Bidwai and

Vanaik, 2000). In one instance, we see appeals to religion justifying the annihilation of the other and, in the other, the same notions of religion are reconfigured so as to protest against nuclearization in the name of national pride. That India and Pakistan have been involved in a peace process for some time now that has been successful in lessening the intensity of hostilities, if nothing else, begs us to explore alternative national narratives that look towards religion to seek legitimation instead of remaining mired in lamentations of its destructive potential.

Thus, drawing a straight line from 'factor' to 'outcome' is a particularly clumsy move for it leaves us with no option other than to turn to accidents or fluke of nature or unobservable motivations to be able to explain oscillations in the tenor of relations between two actors.

Let me now turn to the second shortcoming that plagues factor-centric accounts stems from the thin notion of social construction employed by more contemporary scholarship that looks to meaning-making as a negative resource rather than constitutive source. Simply, this research,

4 firmly entrenched in normative preferences for peace , deploys constructivist logic to proclaim contentious narratives of 'self-other relations' as false rather than examining them as creative products emergent in social interactions. Although recent works on India-Pakistan relations have

' exhibited an increasing mindfulness of the social constructivist argument, particularly after the production of critical historiographies of the colonial experience in the subcontinent, unfortunately its use has remained limited to normative arguments focused solely on launching an attack against what is presumed to be the absence or marginalization of narratives that allow for the

Pakistani/Indian 'other' to be imagined as a 'friend' and the declaration of the narrative of 'other

4 Although, on a personal level, I would much rather that India and Pakistan share a peaceful equation, the accounts we produce as social theorists should not be based on sheer wishful thinking but, rather, guided by a fidelity to understanding the empirical issues we investigate. 22 as foe' as illegitimate rather than as a philosophical position from which to understand the

5 constitution of social and political life .

Consider, as examples, the literature that faults the trauma of partition or the manipulations of a power elite for a persistence of conflict between Pakistan and India. I examine each of these in turn below.

The most glaring omission in the case of scholarship that draws connections between partition and the ensuing hostility between India and Pakistan is that it is so narrowly focused on lamenting over the absence of peace that it fails to theorize why, despite the fact that the 'self' imagines the 'other' in amicable ways, conflict persists. On the one hand, we are told that the narrative of 'other' as 'enemy' is not the only one in circulation in the India-Pakistan context. On the other, we are told that hostile narratives of 'self-other dominate more amicable ones. If they weren't, the outcome would be peace - or so the argument goes. While this scholarship is correct to point out that there is more to India-Pakistan relations than a simplistic and all-consuming understanding of the 'other' as merely 'enemy,' their portrayal of that as a recipe guaranteeing reconciliation represents an important oversight in so far that they neglect to account for the fact that the conflict between the nuclear neighbors has thrived for six decades now despite the presence of these amicable sentiments and memories! To this end, this scholarship is plagued by an additional problem.

It fails to theorize the role of the countless other stories of Muslims helping Hindus and

Sikhs and vice versa. The absence of peace, they presume, is evidence enough that these narratives have been marginalized, at best, and perhaps even, at worst, silenced (Butalia 2000).

If the partition has had such a profound impact on the psyche of India and Pakistan and, to this day, affects the equation between the two nuclear rivals then the stories of people helping each other to safety and shelter ought certainly be admitted into the lexicon. Granted that the stories of

5 I do not mean to suggest here that the purpose of these accounts ought to be explanatory but, rather, that the explanatory potential of this research is compromised by the ends which they seek to accomplish. 23 brutal violence far outnumber those of friends and neighbors, or even strangers, helping a fellow human being. Nonetheless, that they are inscribed in public memory and are often recounted warrants attention instead of dismissing them as silenced only because the outcome with which they are associated, namely peace, remains elusive. The partition was not merely an event witnessed by everyone exactly the same way; it might not even be recounted by the same person in exactly the same way each time. It was a complex event that continues to be made sense of in multiple ways. What is presumed in existing explanations linking the India-Pakistan conflict to the violent events of 1947 is that it is a static event that continues to be memorialized and experienced uniformly across space and time. Simply incorporating the stories of rapes, gruesome murders, and neighbors killing each other in communal rage as overwhelming evidence of the persistence of conflict leaves out a good chunk of the story; we have to begin to acknowledge that more amicable narratives of the 'other' are indeed in circulation and very much a part of the causal complex in which the India-Pakistan equation has been dominated by contentiousness. In fact, this is imperative in order to be able to account for oscillations in the tenor of relations between these two nations.

Over the last 60 years India and Pakistan have managed to collaborate in economic ventures and on the stage of global politics as well as initiatives towards peace. If all they saw in each other was a 'loathed enemy' on the basis of an ancient hatred that led to the horrific violence of 1947 then it would be next to impossible to explain the occurrence of these events except as an accident or as a fluke of nature. I do not dispute that there might be festering wounds that will both India and Pakistan into the death and destruction of the 'other'. However, without actually theorizing how these are mobilized so that they come to define being 'Indian' and

'Pakistani' in ways that prompts taking particular actions that lead to the persistence of conflict then all we have is half a story. Rather, half an explanation, if any.

What is particularly intriguing about the impact of partition on India-Pakistan relations is that despite stories of help across communal divides, which would prove to be evidence of the 24 fact that the 'other' is not thought of solely as 'enemy', what we end up with as a persistence of conflict. If one were to believe the conventional academic explanation of the relationship between identity and conflict, then this makes no sense. After all, if the 'other' is perceived as 'enemy' then we have conflict and if the 'other' is perceived as 'friend' then only is peace possible. However, in this instance, we have countless stories of the 'other' being perceived as 'friend' yet the animosity hasn't really dissipated. Similarly, if, for example the Sikh 'other' was perceived as 'neighbor' then why would s/he be murdered by the Muslim 'self'? These are all questions that remain unanswered by a narrative of partition in which the presence of violence is simplistically reduced to the reason for the persistence of conflict to the undiscriminating exclusion of all other possibilities.

Similarly, attributing the persistence of conflict in the India-Pakistan context to a manipulative power elite draws on notions of 'constructedness' as 'false consciousness' to argue that politicians stand to gain if Pakistan and India remain at loggerheads.

Although this is a neat tale, and perhaps not entirely inaccurate in that it is conceivable that the political elite could stand to gain somehow if the two nuclear rivals remain at war, but the logic on which it is premised is inherently flawed in two ways.

First, what remains untheorized is why the masses actually buy the narrative of 'other' as 'enemy'. Why this narrative has resonance is simply not up for debate or consideration. I am not takirig dispute here with the fact that the political elite have had some role to play in fanning the flames; however, what is critical to remember is that there must be flames to fan in the first place. Thus, Ganguly's depiction of an overarching British hegemon creating strife and discord that then carries forward after independence in 1947 to the equation shared by India and

Pakistan seems a tad far-fetched or unrealistic (1986). As Kaviraj reminds us in his work on the emergence of the public sphere in colonial and post-colonial South Asia, the British didn't really create religious distinctions out of nowhere as has been proposed in the bulk of scholarship on pre-1947 India but, rather, along with non-state actors such as ethnic groups and religious 25 cleavages, nudged into public life what was previously reserved solely as part of private expressions of faith and religiosity (1997, 87-99). Therefore, the notion of 'other' as 'enemy' was available and had credibility for without that the political elite could not have manipulated the situation to their advantage. This is not something that someone can pull out of thin air and expect the masses to follow blindly. Hindu-Muslim differences, and by extension differences between India and Pakistan, can't simply be engineered out of sheer desire on the part of some groups. There needs to be some there there to begin with. It is all well to say that it is the

"massed energy of bloodthirsty patriotism" that constitutes "acceptable political currency" but to paint a picture in which governments or state mechanisms make citizens dance like puppets to their own tune seems, at best, incomplete (Roy 2003, 35).

Second, the underlying logic of this explanation is premised on a normative dissatisfaction with which 'India' and 'Pakistan' are defined in contentious ways. Once again, while this spirit is commendable, what is problematic about it is that difference is conceptualized as the root o! everything that is evil. Take away difference and the conflict dissipates - at least, that is what we are told. Consequently, the result of this approach is that the specific narrative of

'difference' between 'self' and 'other' at play is conflated as a generalizable claim about the very nature of difference as som~thing that is only capable of breeding animosity. What is overlooked in the process is that seeing the 'other' as 'friend' or 'neighbor' also involves distinguishing 'self' from 'other' albe1it according to the rules and conventions of a storyline whereby 'peace' can be imagined. Presuming that difference is inherently to blame obscures our ability to understand how identity works in producing self-other relations while also compromising our capacity to account for the complexities that characterize social life.

An emphasis on the sinister actions of a political elite continues to ignore the reality on the ground whereby narratives of 'other as friend' are in circulation even when the 'other' is demonized. For example, suggests that the existing "doctrine of national security and unity ... [put forward by state mechanisms] is overwhelming all alternative conceptions" (1992, 26

861 ). That these scholars are even able to describe notions of the 'other' as 'friend' or 'neighbor' as more accurate representations of reality illustrates that these aren't absent by any means.

Presuming the presence of conflict as evidence that the 'other' is imagined solely as 'enemy' is dangerous· in this regard. While these alternative conceptions might be marginalized, they certainly aren't ancient relics in need of rescuing. For instance, Bose and Jalal (1998) highlight the fusion between Hindu and Muslim practices during the Mughal era that gave birth to an lndo­ lslamic culture and became the basis for Hindu-Muslim unity in the Indian subcontinent. As will be illustrated in the empirical chapters in this dissertation, this logic is part of the national narrative in which 'other' is imagined as 'friend'. The fact is that more amicable narratives of 'self-other relations' remain in circulation even in the reality discredited by those working within this tradition as hegemonic and the product of an oppressive past in which the political elite have condemned

India and Pakistan to life-long animosities. That the Hindu-Muslim relationship and, by extension, the India-Pakistan relationship is solely one of animosity is contradicted if one takes a look at what is happening on the ground. Kaviraj too reminds us of the presence of multiple narratives of self-other relations through an analysis of the uses to which a public space like a park was put in

British India (1997). He observes that it is the scene for multiple activities ranging from mundane activities like morning walks of people living in that neighborhood to public gatherings by British administrators making announcements to their subjects to religious rituals of Hindus and Muslims alike to demonstrations by the colonized Indians against their colonized masters (Kaviraj 1997,

86-90). What this multi-tasking effectively translates into, according to Kaviraj, is an ambivalence between 'self' and 'other' whereby neither can simply dismiss or embrace the relationship between the two for any and all "conceptual maps ... make an impact not on previously empty conceptual space" but one that is multi-layered and complex (1997, 95, 99, 112). That one space became the container, as it were, that held or hosted multiple and seemingly contradictory social relations is indicative of the fact that what was negotiated in everyday social life was an order in which the same 'self' and 'other' came to be bound via diverse ties through these multiple 27 interactions. Accordingly, to argue that the contentious relationship shared by India and Pakistan is founded solely upon a narrative of animosity is certainly misleading.

To summarize this second shortcoming of factor-centric explanations of the India­

Pakistan conflict, the thin notion of social construction employed in this research suggests that unless the people of India and Pakistan learn to break through the shackles of the past they will remain entrapped in the hatred of their own false imaginations is what we are told (Nandy 1997,

Roy 2003). The lack of peace is taken to mean that the narrative of 'other' as 'friend' or 'neighbor' or 'brother' is absent when, in fact, it is very much a part of the empirical landscape of self-other relations. While the basic existence of narratives of 'other' as 'friend' or 'neighbor' is admitted into the picture, their presence is certainly downplayed given the fact that the outcome they ought to have produced has not been achieved. What emerges then is a misleading account of narration of self-other relations whereby the heterogeneity that is very much visible on the ground is rendered invisible and pronounced as silent.

As mentioned earlier in this section, equating the presence of a particular factor with identities that automatically, even naturally, produce a predetermined qutcome leaves us without any option to explain a change in the tenor of relations or cooperative moments other than resorting to "accidents happen" at best, or, at worst, neglecting to account for a change in the socio-political order. This not only denies the distinctive heterogeneity of empirical life but also ignores the constitutive role of agency. That, I would argue, is hardly satisfactory. Given that the

India-Pakistan context has been characterized by frequent oscillations between the two extremes of conflict and peace since nuclearization in 1998 makes it even more important that we account for these shifts in explanations of the relations shared by these two arch rivals since the factors thought to contribute to hostility have not faded into oblivion. Keeping in line with the example cited earlier in this paragraph of the memory of a violent and bitter partition, that Pakistan and

India went from armed conflict in 1999 to the initiation, in 2003, of the most sustained peace process in the history of the relationship of these two nuclear rivals doesn't mean that this event 28 suddenly became irrelevant or forgotten. But perhaps, just perhaps, it was reconfigured in the course of social interactions such that an alternative order emerged? Perhaps the stories already in circulation about how Hindus were helped by Muslims were reconfigured so as to allow for a different imagination of 'self-other relations'? Perhaps there have also been moments where stories of Hindus and Muslims helping each other haven't been enough to counter narrations of

'other as enemy' in a space-time particularity?

If we can bring ourselves to admit that factors do not shape reality in deterministic or monolithic ways and that they are polysemic then what opens up in front of us is a whole new avenue of exploration and understanding the (re)construction of social and political life. How is that? If events afford us the possibility of multiple meanings, what suddenly beckons our attention are those ongoing social practices in which the significance and meaning of an event or occurrence is articulated and in which an entity or actors then come to life.

In other words, the outcome is no longer seen as the problem but is, instead, problematized.

Bearing this in mind, what this dissertation wagers is that something like partition can potentially be, and has been, narrated in multiple ways and it is these very narrations that need to be analyzed in the interest of providing scholarly accounts of the India-Pakistan relationship that are cognizant of the realities on the ground as it were. The need of the hour perhaps is understanding how, in the example at hand, something like the complexity of that experience of

1947 is accessed and negotiated by actors with all of its contradictions and paradoxes instead of simply equating the presence of conflict with the assumption that only the violence of this time period is remembered in ways tl)at incite further animosity.

Without this move, I argue, we remain unable to explain any oscillations in the relationship between 'self', 'other', and, consequently, 'self-other relations' or account for the presence of seemingly contradictory narratives simultaneously. 29

What this requires, then, is a significant shift away from the existing literature on India­

Pakistan relations that places undue emphasis on factors thought to cause conflict in the course of being equated with being 'Indian' or 'Pakistani'. Noting the mere presence of factors and tying it to a specific outcome not only leaves us lacking in the capacity to account for explanations of oscillations in the relationship between Pakistan and India, it also takes these very entities for granted. That what remains absent from the explanation is an exploration of 'lndian-ness' or

'Pakistani-ness' is no less than a critical oversight. Why is that? Static versions of 'lndian-ness' and 'Pakistani-ness' might explain a particular outcome but are rendered outdated the minute the relationship experiences a visible shift. If it is indeed notions of nationalism or national identity that propel actors to act in certain ways, then it is imperative that we actually turn to the emergence of these identities to explain both heterogeneity in self-other narratives as well as changes in the tenor of relations from conflict to peace to whatever order might have emerged. In this vein, I propose that a potentially useful and alternative way to read these events is to problematize the very notion of actorhood and investigate its ontological status rather than taking it for granted.

In other words, to account for the oscillations between conflict and peace while incorporating the empirical heterogeneity that is woefully missing in the majority of explanations all of which conceptualize factors as synonymous with identities and then associate these with specific outcomes requires moving away from a static concept of identity to a processual one that basically problematizes identity itself. More simply, this requires re-imagining the concept and place of national identity in our accounts along the lines that Brubaker (2004) suggests such that we actually explain it rather than explaining with it to account for socio-political life.

That is to say that instead of presuming factors as synonymous with identities, we need to understand how actors, in the course of rendering factors meaning-full, shape their identities and political life. 30

For example, if India's bomb represents a Hindu lndian-ness and the Pakistani nuclear arsenal is Islamic then we need to understand how a piece of technology acquires a national identity that prompts the collective 'self' that is the nation to orient its behavior towards the 'other' in specific ways (Bidwai and Vanaik, 2000). Simply, instead of describing or identifying specific things as Indian and Pakistani we need to examine the very processes in which these identities emerge to be able to account for the ways in which the political phenomena that command our scholarly attention emerge. This will allow us the traction needed to explore how seemingly contradictory narratives of nation emerge and co-exist. In the problem at hand, i.e. the persistence of conflict between Pakistan and India, if we refrain from taking actors for granted as the sum total of factors perceived in static, predetermined ways and focus our explanatory energies on detailing those very configurations out of which these are made meaning-full in difference space-time particularities, I suspect that we can create space for identifying the multiple narrations that cohere under the umbrella of a larger, seemingly unified national identity narrative in whose names actions are taken. This then provides us with a solution to the dilemma of being able to account for oscillations in the relationship between, in this case, India and

Pakistan, and, more generally speaking, any two entities. How? Tracing the multiple ways in which the 'other' is articulated in the imagination of the 'self' will incorporate the empirical heterogeneity found in social life in our analyses and, therefore, provide us with a way in which to connect the dots as shifts occur presuming the Tillyean logic that actors act in accordance with their identities as they perceive them thereby shaping political order accordingly (2002). The methodological discussion presented in the next chapter explains precisely how to accomplish this task. However, before proceeding to the next step, the final section of this section foreshadows the argument of this dissertation chapter-by-chapter. 31

The Organization Of This Dissertation

As evidenced by the discussion presented in this chapter, this project is guided by two primary concerns. First, to account for the empirical heterogeneity of notions with respect to how

'self' and 'other' are perceived in relation to each other in the India-Pakistan context. Second, to put these narratives of identity in motion to understand how the India-Pakistan relationship oscillates between 'war' and 'peace' given that what has traditionally been presumed as the basis of hatred has yet to disappear or be solved and that narratives in which lies the potential for friendship with the 'other' are hardly absent.

In chapter 2, I make the case for a relational or processual approach and outline the theoretical concepts employed in this dissertation including bounding practices, actorhood, ethical imaginary, and articulation. Chapter 3 marks the beginning of the empirical discussion of this dissertation. Here I present a historical discussion of the two-nation theory which, as I will clarify, functions as the primary rhetorical resource or commonplace in imagining 'lndian-ness' and

'Pakistani-ness' in relation to each other. Chapters 4 and 5 explore the ethical imaginaries in which the actors 'Pakistan' and 'India' emerge by turning to in-depth first hand interviews with liminar populations, namely Muhajirs in Pakistan and Muslims in India, seen as ''the others within" in their own countries. Chapters 6 and 7 represent a more practical application designed to make sense of the persistence of conflict and the simultaneous presence of peace initiatives. Drawing on an analysis of bounding practices in Bollywood films about India-Pakistan relations, chapter 6 provides insights into the desire for 'peace' in the India-Pakistan context. If chapter 6 is in a sense exemplary of an utopic vision, chapter 7 turns to in-depth interviews with Pakistani and Indian public officials and intellectuals involved in Track II diplomacy initiatives to assess the obstacles and challenges to peace. Finally, the dissertation ends with chapter 8 where I provide some concluding reflections on the importance of considering the place of ethics in understanding the relationship between actorhood and the emergence of political orders. CHAPTER 2

FROM FACTORS TO ACTORS: A RELATIONAL METHODOLOGY

What is theoretically innovative and politically crucial, is the need to think beyond narratives of originary and initial subjectivities and to focus on those moments or processes that are produced in the articulation of cultural differences. - Homi K. Bhabha, the location of culture

The previous chapter suggested that mounting a causal explanation of the India-

Pakistan relationship such that both the empirical heterogeneity and oscillations in the tenor of relations can be accommodated requires that we take a step beyond traditional factor-centric approaches and problematize actorhood instead.

To recap, the limitation of looking towards factors to construct causal explanations of social and political life is that this approach posits transcendental validity to conditions of possibility that are, in actuality, negotiated in ongoing social interactions (Foucault 1972, 364).

From this vantage point then, the India-Pakistan conflict comes to be seen an outcome of "Indian- ness" and "Pakistani-ness" without any exploration of how notions of acting as 'Indian' or

'Pakistani' produce the political order under investigation. In other words, 'lndian-ness' and

'Pakistani-ness' are presumed. However, understanding the India-Pakistan relationship with all of its ambivalences and so-called contradictions, as explicated in the previous chapter, requires that we explain the emergence of "lndian-ness" and "Pakistani-ness" itself instead of taking these categories for granted. The question that then arises is how to develop the analytic that best serves this purpose. The discussion contained in this chapter attempts to answer this question in two parts. Given that I have argued in favor of probing actorhood, specifically lndian-ness and

Pakistani-ness, to understand how political orders such as India-Pakistan relations emerge, I first provide an overview of the ways in which 'nationalism' has been theorized within the

32 33

discipline of international relations. I do so because the entities or actors we are talking about

here, i.e. India and Pakistan, are what we, in an everyday conventional sense, refer to and

recognize, as nations. Additionally, actors in the India-Pakistan context also define their actions

and legitimate them through appeals to national pride thereby necessitating that we explore this

literature to see what it is does or does not offer by way of answering the puzzle at hand. Next, I

draw on scholars such as Abbott, Brubaker, Lapid, and Tilly to argue that a relational social

constructivist or processual approach to studying and conceptualizing actorhood - which in this

case refers to nations - is particularly apropos for this inquiry in so far that it provides a more

adequate account which, in Lapid's words, is understood as one that seeks "to rethink intellectual

resources and rework conceptual tools to render them highly compatible with the fundamental

problems and challenges that ... confront us" (2001, 18). In the final sections of this chapter, I

elaborate upon key concepts as well as the research design guiding this investigation.

Mainstream Theories Of Nationalism: A Critical Overview

Theories of nationalism can be divided into three basic persuasions that include the

::;f,9llo,wing: primordialist, instrumentalist, and social constructivist. Below I outline the basic

principles and beliefs of each of these three schools of thought as well as their shortcomings with

respect to the constitutive role of identity in shaping political life which is the broader issue with

which this dissertation project is concerned. This discussion is organized into three subsections.

The first focuses on the primordialist and instrumentalist versions of nationalism. In the second, I

turn to the perspective that can be described as social constructivist. The third, and final,

subsection provides an overall critique of each of these three schools of thought and suggests a

relational approach as an alternative capable of producing novel insights with respect to the

problem with which this investigation is concerned. 34

Essentializing the Nation: Primordialism & lnstrumentalism

The primordialist position conceptualizes a nation as a grouping whose bases of cohesion make sense in a natural or fundamental way. For example, a group of people speak the same language or have similar physiological features or practice the same rituals which then serves to bind them together.

Anthony Smith's work on nation formation is an example of this school of thought. Smith puts forward two models to explain the phenomenon of nationhood (1991 ). The first is the civic­ territorial model found largely in the West whereby notions such as a territory identified as the

"homeland", legal ties, political commitments, and, finally, a common civic culture and ideology in which members of a collective are socialized for the purpose of nation-building on the basis of

"common historical memories, myths, symbols, and traditions" serve to draw boundaries between inside/outside thus clearly demarcating possession of the economic resources within a geographical space (Smith 1991, 9~11 ). The second model, Smith suggests, is typical of the nationalist experiment outside the West and is identified as the "ethnic-genealogical model"

(1991, 123). Utilizing the components of the civic-territorial model, it incorporates three additional elements namely: ancestries or pedigree attained as a birthright; vernacular or folk culture as manifested in languages, customs and traditions; and, finally, the articulation of the national grouping along the lines of a metaphor akin to the basic family structure (Smith 1991, 11-14).

Akin to Smith's conceptualization of nationhood, Clifford Geertz's work on nations also emphasizes the resilience of what he identifies as "primordial bonds" iri the wake of the tensions induced in human society in the process of modernizing (1963, 109). He maintains that while the tensions induced by a shift to modernity from a primitive way of life can be moderated, "[t]he power of the 'givens' of place, tongue, blood, looks, and way-of-life to shape an individual's notion of who, at bottom, he is and with whom, indissolubly, he belongs is rooted in the non-rational foundations of personality'' (Geertz 1963, 128). 35

Whatever the reasons for unifying a collective, the basic primordialist position is that ancestral commonalities of some kind render certain groupings natural which are, and must be, realized in the form of nations within a circumscribed homeland to ensure that the collective survives and thrives.

However what happens if the nation suddenly begins to behave differently? For example, what if a nation suddenly disintegrates? The explanation which the primordialists might offer is that the initial national grouping was based on inaccurate factors. While that makes sense with respect to explaining something like disintegration what it fails to explain is why the

"previously unreal attributes" were able to unite the older national grouping in the first place? If these were indeed unreal or inaccurate, why would they matter enough to a group of people to unite them as a national grouping for any amount of time? It is this very possibility of inaccuracy that spurred the development of instrumentalist theories of nationalism to which I now turn.

While primordials trace an inherent logic in the manifestation of a nation, the instrumentalist conceptualization of nationalism is founded on the basic notion that nations are false constructs often dreamed up by elites.

The instrumentalist response is largely conditioned by the Marxist vision of the nation as an impediment that gains power over the state by coordinating and suppressing opposition

(Breuilly 1982). However, although instrumentalists like Gellner criticize the naturalness of nationhood propounded in the primordialist vision of nationalism and envision it as a "practical" response rather than a sentimental one, they too fall back on the use of traits and symbols to form a nation much like the primordialist counterparts they remain skeptical of (1964, 160). Paul

Brass, studying nationalist and ethnic conflicts, argues that nationalism "emphasizes the uses to which cultural symbols are put by elites seeking instrumental advantage for themselves or the groups they claim to represent" (1979, 69). Here ethnic rituals, languages, facial features, etc do unify a grouping but only because those who hold greater power managed to dupe the masses that these are all reasons to create a clearly defined inside and outside at the national level. As 36

Gellner maintains "[n]ationalism is not the awakening of nations to self-consciousness", thus

denying their very naturalness, but, rather, is a phenomenon that "invents nations where they do

not exist" (1964, 169). From the perspective of the instrumentalist, the nation often serves to

mask a deeper problem such as economic inequality or colonialism to which the nationalist

movement is a utopic and misleading response. Brass clarifies that "[t]he ability to mobilize large

numbers of people around symbols and values with a high emotional potential is a , though

unstable, resource that can be brought into the fray against the controllers of bureaucratic

apparatuses, instrument~ of violence and land" (1985, 28). This is the process by which national

identities and nations are formed and is inextricably intertwined with the use of power by

nationalist elites (Brass 1985). Thus, in the instrumentalist narrative of nationhood, the emphasis

remains on the business of state-making in which the few oppress and sway the many in the

course of consolidating their power.

What the instrumentalists are unable to account for is this very act of being swayed. If it

is true that a power elite is able to manipulate the masses into national cohesiveness then what

must also be explained is why a particular set of factors has resonance with these masses

enough to buy the falsehoods being propagated by the few. That the instrumentalist story continues to develop its position using the same mechanisms of emotion (e.g. religion, language,

ethnicity, folklore, etc) as the primordialists they criticize renders this approach somewhat

suspect.

Although the primordialists and instrumentalists accord primacy, in the sense of causal origins, to different factors in accounting for the emergence of a national consciousness what

unites these two schools of thought is a shortcoming that is fundamental to both: essentialism.

Whether it's the "natural" pull of factors such as language to realize the "real" national grouping as is the case with primordials or, as the instrumentalists maintain, the manipulation of

such factors to dupe the masses into a "false consciousness" out of which a nation-state is crafted, both recognize the 'nation' itself as a substantively existing entity that has a reality 37 independent of the actors constituting it. What gives this entity its entity-ness, as it were, is the presence of factors all of which are determined in advance.

Consequently, what renders both schools of thought problematic is their inability to consider the nation as anything more than a coagulation of attributes statically conceived. They fail to consider why, rather how, a particular set of attributes matters to unite a specific group of people and only identify what factors are relevant. This move is severely limiting with respect to the explanatory power of both schools of thought. How is that the case? An example might help illuminate this point.

Presuming that language serves as an inherent factor in uniting a community, which is something both primordialists and instrumentalists would concur, then why is it the case that an

Arabic-speaking United Arab Emirates (UAE) sees itself as a nation distinct from a Jordanian nation right next door that also speaks ? If language dictates a natural grouping then the primordialist is left speechless in accounting for this discrepancy. For the instrumentalist, this is an equally uncomfortable scenario. After all, if the elite are motivated by a hunger for the kind of power that a nation-state brings and use primordial symbols like language to consolidate it then how does one explain the fact that they didn't form a larger national community that linguistic ties could have potentially enabled? If the only plausible response is other impinging factors, then this renders both schools of thought ineffectual with respect to explaining nationalism given that neither admits the importance of meaning-making into their conceptual and theoretical vocabularies. John Hall, critiquing mainstream social science for its characteristic regressiveness whose goal is to produce broad typologies, suggests that this strategy conceals much more than it reveals (1993). The primordialist and instrumentalist theories of nationalism fall in the same camp. Aimed exclusively at achieving generalizability, their primary weakness is located in their inability to account for contingencies in so far that meaning-making is excluded from their analytic. It is this notion of meaning-making that is admitted into the social constructivist school of thought outlined below. 38

The Nation As Socially Constructed

Although the social constructivist approach to nationalism represents a response to the oversight vis-a-vis meaning-making on the part of primordialists and instrumentalists alike, this perspective, unfortunately, does not quite go the distance that it needs to in order to provide the tools with which to understand oscillations in the relationship between nationalism and political order which is the broad puzzle that concerns this investigation. To elaborate how this is the case, I turn to the work of Benedict Anderson whose Imagined Communities (1991) is considered seminal in social constructivist analyses of the phenomenon of nationalism.

In denaturalizing collectivities, ontologically speaking, Anderson grapples with a completely different set of questions and assumptions than his primordialist and instrumentalist peers.

Less concerned with the reality or unreality of nationhood as an expression - or not - of transcendentally existing properties, Anderson's focus shifts to the making of communities. In other words, what is emphasized are the kinds of meaning-making practices that bind a community together since nations are understood as "cultural artefacts" that are very much a modern phenomenon (Anderson 1991, 4). The nation, thus, has no natural or transcendentally genuine bases that align community members together like the primordialist version nor is it a false construct as the instrumentalists argue.

From this approach what is essential to understanding national consciousness is beginning with the assumption that nations are created or "imagined" and involves locating "how they have come into historical being" (Anderson 1991, 4). Anderson defines the nation as "an imagined political community ... because the members of even the smallest nations will never know most of their fellow members, meet them, or even hear of them, yet in the minds of each lives an image of their communion ... [that extends beyond] primordial villages of face-to-face contact" but is nonetheless "limited ... [in that its boundaries are] finite" within which it remains

"sovereign" and fosters a sense of "community ... [that] regardless of the actual inequality and 39 exploitation that may prevail. .. is always conceived of as a deep, horizontal comradeship" (1991,

6-7).

So far, so constructed. Here, in Andersonian social construction, meaning-making clearly has a home so as to be able to allow for contingency and creativity unlike the broad, restrictive typologies generated by primordialist and instrumentalist accounts of nationalism.

However, Anderson, as Brubaker contends, falters to the extent that his is a

"developmentalist" approach that falls prey to the same "pervasive, substantialist, realist cast of mind that attributes real, enduring existence to nations as collectivities" that haunts the scholarship on nationalism authored by primordialist theorists like Smith and instrumentalists like

Gellner (1996, 15 & 18-19). Brubaker faults the developmentalist perspective for reifying nations as stabilized entities as opposed to conceptualizing them as "contingent events" that are, more precisely, considered ongoing stabilizations (1996, 7-19).

To simplify, continuing with the hypothetical example used in the previous section,

Andersonian social construction might be able to provide answers as to why Jordan and the UAE constitute different nation-states despite the presence of factors like language and geographical contiguity that might have facilitated unification according to traditional, non-constructivist approaches. However, if we take the example a step further the clarity decreases remarkably.

Let's say the two countries of Jordan and UAE, after years of having proclaimed each other as the 'closest of allies' given that they are both Arab-speaking nations, suddenly find themselves embroiled in a military confrontation in the name of 'national pride'. If nation-ness previously demanded 'friendship' with the 'other', the new order of things now demands 'animosity'. It is not like the linguistic ties faded away into oblivion but the relationship is definitely altered. Given that the Andersonian perspective "traces the long-term political, economic, and cultural changes that led, over centuries, to the gradual emergence of ... nationnness" we are left with few answers with how to deal with this change (Brubaker 1996, 19). More fundamentally, even if the political order doesn't register a qualitative change, as was the case in the hypothetical example provided 40 above, what Anderson doesn't explore is if and how meaning-making plays a role'in the ongoing maintenance of the nation in social interactions. This is a glaring oversight for if meaning-making is critical to forming the nation then it seems only logical that it would be required to keep the nation going; without considering the latter the analysis seems incomplete. This, Brubaker would term "deeply problematic" for actors are "not ... sharply bounded, internally culturally homogeneous blocs" that run on,,auto-pilot, as it were, after being established but are, instead, in need of ongoing articulation (1998, 274). Consequently, without this second step where rearticulation or ongoing social construction become part of the analytic, we are left without the requisite conceptual flexibility that would allow us to trace and analyze ongoing social interactions for any variations in the production and negotiation of national identity that is needed to account for empirical heterogeneity and oscillations in the character of political order without resorting to explanations that look to unobservable bases of motivation or accidents to tie up loose ends.

Considering Political Orders As The Starting Point

To conclude this section, the overarching weakness that compromises the explanatory power of the primordialist, instrumentalist, and social constructivist schools of thought on nationalism combined is the almost complete lack of consideration of its relationship with political order.

Nations somehow come to be - how they do so varies depending on whether a primordialist, instrumentalist or constructivist is telling the story - and then interact with each other thus making up what we conventionally refer to as the international order. Sometimes they get along. Sometimes they don't. Sometimes they make one set of policies to govern their relationship with each other. Sometimes they make another kind. Sometimes a policy that worked suddenly fails. Sometimes a policy continues to work for centuries. We know that all of these occurrences have to do with their sense of 'nation-ness' in so far that actors claim to be acting in the name of the nation. But how does one account for changes in the actions of a nation? 41

Conversely, how does one sufficiently account for the fact that the international order stays the same given that stability too is reliant on ongoing actions which means that familiarity or what we recognize as stability too is borne out of constant change?

None of the above can be explained if the focus is solely on how a nation comes to be at the expense of overlooking how the contours of its ways of 'being' guide its actions which then influence and shape political orders.

But what happens if 'political order' and 'nation-hood' come to be seen as inextricably intertwined? What happens if instead of seeing nationalism as the problem birthing political orders we have a fundamental normative dislike for we come to see it as constitutive of political life? It is these last two possibilities that inform a relational approach in which ties and processes are accorded causal primacy over essences.

The Relational1 Alternative

Craig Calhoun has asserted that "[n]ationalism is too diverse to allow a single theory to explain it all. Much of the contents and specific orientation of various nationalisms is determined by historically distinct cultural traditions, the creative actions of leaders, and contingent situations within the international order" {1997, 123). It is this very distinctiveness, creativity, and contingency that a relational approach is eminently equipped to tackle.

In this section I elaborate on the need for a relational social constructivist approach and outline the positions and assumptions it entails. This discussion is intended to set the stage for the following section in which I elaborate on the key theoretical concepts that have been employed in this dissertation project to mount the analyl>is contained herein.

1 Wherever the word 'relational' is used in this dissertation, e.g. in phrases like 'relational theory' or 'relational approach' or on its own (i.e. 'relational), it should be taken to mean the theoretical approach known as 'relational social constructivism'. Although this may seem like a minor point, it is a critical one, epistemologically speaking, in that there are variants of relational theorizing that adopt a realist rather than a constructivist perspective. 42

Social constructivist analyses of nationalism have highlighted the ways in which nations are social facts - they are borne out of the ways in which people make sense of their worlds. A relational social constructivist approach to nationhood goes a step further by also concerning itself with the meaning-making practices in which a nation, or any actor for that matter, is maintained.

So if social construction implores us to look at how nations are formed, the relational variant would push the envelope even further and insist that we look at how nations continue to be emergent in social interactions.

In this respect, actorhood, be it a nation or any other grouping, lies at the very heart of a relational social constructivist perspective since it is the process of making stuff 'meaning-fu/f2 that is considered constitutive of social and political life.

However, before proceeding further, it is imperative that I outline the basics of relational social constructivism.

Relational social constructivism conceptualizes social phenomena as discursively embedded practices rather than as inevitable ways of being. Accordingly, it emphasizes processes of social interaction over putatively existing entities, social ties over attributes, and agency (Emirbayer 1997). Bearing in mind that social arrangements are the unique outcome of complex configurations of factors in given space-time particularities, relational accounts are concerned with tracing and analyzing the processes within which social reality coheres.

The basic premise that informs this mode of inquiry, in Hacking's words, is that "the existence or character of X is not determined by the nature of things. X is not inevitable. X was

2 The point here is that social phenomena do not cohere on their own but emerge in their unique configurations depending on how meaning is made in the course of social interactions between actors. In this respect, one could think of 'meaningful' as 'meaning-full' in order to emphasize the constitutive role of meaning-making practices of actors. [I thank Prof. Patrick Thaddeus Jackson for suggesting this use of the term.] For example, to say that the India­ Pakistan conflict is about 'Kashmir" is to claim that it is about how 'Kashmir' is made meaning-full in the course of social interactions. · 43 brought into existence or shaped by social events, forces, history, all of which could have been different" (1999, 6-7).

Hence, something like the India-Pakistan conflict emerges from and is constituted through and within social processes. There is no such thing as "India-Pakistan Conflict-ness" in a relational schema; instead, it is understood to be sustained in social practices such that it might be more accurate to describe the phenomena as 'India-Pakistan Conflict-ing'. What do I mean by this?

To use a slightly different and relatively simple example, my role as a Ph.D. candidate is constituted in relation to several interactions one of which includes those that I experience with my committee members. Relational social constructionists maintain that there is no inherent essence that makes me be a Ph.D. candidate. Concurrently, my candidacy is not caused by the essences my committee members might possess. Instead, it is the particular configuration of practices within this network of relations or ties between myself and my committee members that leads me to understand and play my role as Ph.D. candidate and the committee members theirs.

That is to say that it is in the ongoing mutual acceptance of our respective roles that my identity as a Ph.D. candidate is established. For example, if I were to stop working on my dissertation tomorrow and cut off any contact with all of my committee members and they were to decide to do the same then it is rather likely that my identity as a Ph.D. candidate would cease to exist. In other words, acceptance of an identity (whether it is terminated or not) is emergent through actions that have been and continue to be associated with this particular playing of roles. The phrase "continue to be" is key here. The constitutional nature of reality is never dependent on a single moment in which this relationship comes to be. If that were the case then any reality would only need to be created once and essentialized after which it would be self-propelling. But that is not the case. Interactions within the Ph.D. candidate and committee member relationship need to be maintained for their continued existence. 44

That I continue to write (even if not in the more systematic disciplined fashion generally

suggested by dissertation guidebooks), send my committee members updates of my progress, and also send an annual report to the chair of the Ph.D. program I continue to be recognized as a

Ph.D. candidate in good standing. It is by my repetition of these performances that I continue to enact this identity. Having read the Ph.D. handbook and through multiple conversations with the concerned faculty, advisors my chair, and my colleagues, I know that these are the things I must do, in addition to registering for dissertation credits and paying matriculation, in order to keep my candidacy active. It isn't sufficient that I continue writing my dissertation in some kind of vacuum.

It also isn't the case that any other member of this network can sustain my role as a Ph.D. candidate single-handedly. What is imperative that I continue to perform actions such as writing and sending chapter drafts to my committee members and they, in turn, acknowledge that these actions constitute acceptable evidence of me making progress on my dissertation project to justify being labeled a Ph.D. candidate.

In other words, I can't simply perform actions to sustain an identity; the other actors involved must also recognize it as such.

These interactions within this configuration or network are what contribute to my establishing a specific kind of tie with this specific group of people by which I mean that these are all actions I must perform to sustain my identity as a Ph.D. candidate at American University. The constitutional nature of reality is not only dependent on a singular moment in which this identity comes to be. The phrase comes to be is key here. There is no essence to me that guarantees the fact that I will be recognized as a Ph.D. candidate. I must keep acting in ways that sustain that identity and these must be understood as acceptable by the network within which I can be recognized as a Ph.D. candidate. Hence, for a certain form of social reality to continue it is necessary that the processes of interaction that sustain it occur. If this reality had an "essential quality" then it would not need to be acted and re-enacted to survive. In other words, it would be 45 best described and understood by a subject/object distinction that is characteristic of dualist

3 ontologies .

Similarly, the 'India-Pakistan conflict' persists because the actors involved continue to engage in practices that sustain it and not because there is this abstract, objective reality out

4 there that sustains "The India-Pakistan Conflict" all on its own . The India-Pakistan conflict, from a relational social constructivist perspective, isn't determined by the mere presence of factors such as religious differences or Kashmir but, is, instead, a direct consequence of the ways in which the actors involved make sense of the world as they continue to interact, directly or indirectly, with each other. The rules they think they ought to be obey in being 'Indian' and 'Pakistani' is what is critical here; these rules are not inherent but are, instead, negotiated in social processes.

What is, therefore, discarded in a relational approach is a dualist understanding of the world in favor of a characteristically monist intersubjectivity. Here, something like the 'India-

Pakistan conflict' is recognized socially as an objectively existing, material reality but is actually constituted in social relations. In other words, it is the behavior or orientation of actors towards it that grants it that status. As Wittgenstein explains, when we say that "X exists'', in this case the

India-Pakistan conflict, what is actually implied is that it has been accorded with meaning (1953:

§8). In other words, this expression "is not a proposition which treats of X, but a proposition about our use of language, that is about the use of the word 'X"' (Wittgenstein 1953: §58). Hence, for

3 Although their epistemological, and hence, methodological, stances might differ, social theorists who adopt a dualist ontology include Popper, Kuhn, Lakatos, and Bhaskar. Briefly, knowledge, for these theorists exists outside the world and, therefore, has an objective quality to it. According to them, reality is recogn~zed and not (re)constructed. The goal of knowledge production for this camp is to try and understand this objectively perfect and uncorrupted knowledge through scientific inquiry. In other words, for them, there is a capital "T" Truth out there waiting to be apprehended. Whether or not it can be attained is one of the main contentions that divide this group of people. Leaving that aside, however, the existence of this 'T'ruth is what guides their inquiry and is the source of unification among dualists on matters of ontology.

4 Following Jackson 2006a I, in my argument, refer to the "India-Pakistan conflict" in double quotes and the 'India-Pakistan conflict' in single quotation marks. This difference in usage of quotation marks is intended to signify an important shift. The former refers to the reified notion of a conflict that existing scholarship posits; the latter designates the concept1Jal shift of this dissertation as I contend that this conflict is not an objectively existing reality but, rather, a consequence of the ways in which actors represent/articulate their worlds. 46 relational social constructivism, "objective facts" are not objective per se but are, rather, objectified. It is not that the world is represented accurately, but ethically5, in ways that actors deem appropriate or in accordance with their identity. In relational social constructivism, something like the India-Pakistan Conflict is a "consequence of ways in which we represent the world" (Hacking 1999, 33). So what we confront in social reality as objective facts can be more accurately described as objectified facts. This brings us towards the more general precepts of relational social construction.

It is premised on a monistic ontology that does not subscribe to dualities like mind/body, and thought/world. Instead, relational social constructivism maintains that all that is knowable is in and of the world (Wittgenstein 1953). If the world we inhabit acquires its character in the course of social relations, it isn't determined from the outside. In fact, Wittgenstein would argue that there is no outside to get to - or at least not one that we are capable of recognizing

(1953). Given that the world takes shape in the course of social interactions, it makes little sense to engage in the traditional subjective/objective distinction that pervades social science. If at the heart of socio-political life are transactions or relations between people, then everything that is knowable is already present within the world. In other words, reality is understood as intersubjective.

Relational approaches subscribe to an analytic epistemology that is ideal-typical in the

Weberian sense. Relational theory proceeds with the assumption that our knowledge about the world is never complete; in this regard, it follows from a monist ontology that concerns itself with what is knowable by us rather than Knowledge (with a capital "K") which is properly in the realm of the 'mystical' but not something we can really grasp and therefore, as Wittgenstein proclaimed, we must pass over it in silence (1953). In this monistic sense, knowledge, in particular knowledge that is social scientific, is never about capturing the "objectively existing essence of anything" but is always perspectival (Jackson 2008, 18). Thus, there is no way of adjudicating the truth or

5 I explore this idea of ethics in greater depth in the next section. 47 representativeness of an account. Why is that the case? Jackson clarifies that this is because monistic social scientific work presumes not that there is no world out there but rather "that at the most basic logical level it is quite impossible to disentangle that world from the knowledge that we use in constituting and studying if' (2008, 19). So the monistic position is not nihilistically relative but rather more humble about the extent of what it can explore and the position from what it can do so. Thus, from a monist position, social scientific knowledge cannot be judged on its consistency as measured against an objectively existing world out there but, rather, ought to be evaluated on the basis of its fidelity, in a logical and technical sense, to the assumptions and analytics guiding the inquiry. Consequently, relational theory isn't concerned with providing a

"complete" picture but is, of necessity, a partial effort to grasp selected dynamics of reality that are conceptually isolated in accordance with the question the researcher conducting the investigation is interested in. The insights/answers that are generated from this perspective are always falsified in real practice since real life is much more complicated; nevertheless, in accordance with the assumption that knowledge is never complete, a relational account is pragmatically useful for understanding how the dynamics under investigation impact the social

6 outcome that the researcher is concerned with .

Simply, for relational theorists questions of "why'' something happens or, rather, questions relevant to figuring out causal connections, are really questions about "how" something is "possible". This way of knowing social reality mandates a consciousness of what Hacking refers to as the 3 sticking points of social constructivism: contingency (that a certain aspect of reality could have developed in different ways), nominalism (that facts are constructed), ad explanations of stability (that patterns of stability are more interesting since institutions and orders are "social kinds", rather than natural kinds, that emerge from and are bounded by social action)

(1999, 73-92).

6 Please consult Emirbayer 1997, Hacking 1999, Jackson 2008 and 2006a, Nietzsche 1967, Shatter 1993a and 1993b, and Wittgenstein 1953 for in-depth explanations of relational social construction. 48

Let's take, as an example, our use of the word "red" which we understand to be a

7 particular color . We could just as easily use this combination of letters, "r-e-d", to refer to reaiities

signified by our use of the words "cat" or "dog" or "fireworks". It is our decision or choice to utilize

this combination of letters in this particular manner to understand an aspect of the phenomenon

of "color" which is also constituted in the same manner as the word "red". Our continued use of

this word "red" to refer to this "color'' I what constitutes "redness" in our world. Consequently,

researchers belonging to the relational camp are interested in figuring out how the outcome under

investigation is produced given a specific configuration of factors when deployed by social

agents. A relational theorist would, therefore, argue that it is both analytically useful and ontologically precise to focus on the social practices and actions of constituting since this is what

produces, reproduces, and transforms the worlds we inhabit.

Keeping these basics in mind, it is important to note here that a relational account is one that aspires to be "an empirical science" in which the goal is to illustrate "the characteristic uniqueness of the reality in which we move" (Weber 1949, 72). In this respect, a relational social constructivist inquiry is one that preserves both contingency and agency through and through.

Extending the logic of a relational perspective to the case at hand, the methodological task here is to illustrate how the 'India-Pakistan conflict' is a consequence of the ways in which actors make sense of their world. Thus, from a relational perspective, a phenomenon like the

'India-Pakistan conflict' is what Shatter describes as a "living tradition" (1993b, 198-201 ). It is understood as a phenomenon that is (re)constructed within social processes. There is no such thing as "India-Pakistan Conflict-ness" that causes it; instead, it is sustained as a result of social interactions between actors who utilize rhetorical resources8 available to them to make relations

7 There are various shades of red, as we all know. Hence, we can understand this combination of letters "r-e-d" to denote the entire family of shades roughly identified as red.

8 While this reference to 'available resources' can be seen to function as a structural constraint, relational theorists would defend themselves against the charge that this concept is essentialisUsubstantialist (Emirbayer 1997). From a relational perspective, the 'pool of available resources' is a prosthetic that is always open to change and does not act on its own or impose 49 between 'India' and 'Pakistan'9 meaning-full. The emergence of what we recognize as stable political orders is, therefore, "an everyday process involving a myriad of spontaneous, responsive, practical, unselfconscious, but contested interactions" that actors' actions give birth to "a sense of

... [their] own identities ... [as well as the] 'social worlds"' that they inhabit" (Shatter 1993a, 20).

Accordingly, to be able to account for the orders that interest us, the main task at hand for all relational accounts is to "[focus] upon the formative uses to which 'words in their speaking' are put, and upon the nature of the relational situations thus created between those in communicative contact with each other in speakings" (Shatter 1993b, 6). The route undertaken to accomplish this task results in "projects that aim at displaying or analyzing actual, historically situated, social interactions or causal routes that led to, or were involved in, the coming into being .or establishing of some present entity or fact" (Hacking 1999, 48). In the context of this dissertation project, this work is done by what I refer to as "bounding practices" that shape the configurations of social and political order that interest us as researchers of social science. It is in the next section on relational concepts that I outline how, in articulating self-other boundaries, a process I describe as bounding practices, that the actors, in this case 'India' and 'Pakistan', and their identities ('Indian' and 'Pakistani') emerge thereby sustaining a political outcome i.e. what we have come to recognize as the 'India-Pakistan conflict' or, more broadly speaking, the 'India-Pakistan relationship'.

To conclude this sub-section on relational social construction, an actor like 'India' or

'Pakistan' is much like the Tillyean notion of categories whereby it does not consist of "specific sets of people or unmistakable attributes but standardized, movable social relations" that often form "dividing lines rather than complete perimeters" (1998, 66 & 71 ). The implication, then, of adopting this approach is to place the meaning-making practices in which actorhood emerges itself upon actors is one of the "politically negotiable aspects of our everyday social lives" that evolves in the course of interactions between them (Shatter 1993a, 60).

9 From a relational perspective, 'India' and 'Pakistan' as actors constitute an ongoing discursive repertoire of bounding practices or, simply, sites of social negotiations about boundaries between 'self' and 'other'. 50 center-stage in processes of social interactions. Doing so allows us to "break away from understanding nationally framed conflict as conflict between nations' and rethink them, using

Brubaker's suggestions, as "practical categories" and "contingent events" (2004, 9-11 ). The following three sections outline the conceptual tools and analytical strategies needed for such a shift.

Bounding Practices As Causal Mechanisms: A Relational Social Constructivist Take On Actorhood. Identity. & Political Orders

Having described the basis percepts of relational social constructivism, I now turn to the concepts critical for such an inquiry. Specifically, through an elaboration of the causal role played by 'bounding practices' in producing actors, I illustrate how identities and political orders are inextricably intertwined.

Entities/actors, identities, and political orders or outcomes, which, in this case, are relations between actors, are a consequence of bounding practices. Of course, this is not to suggest that 'real life' is dependent on any kind of linear relationship between the elements in this heuristic. Social reality is much more complex. It is not that actors, in the course of acting, think about what X is and then translate that into an X-ness that justifies their actions. Nonetheless, their retrospective reconstructions 10 of a particular outcome often reflect this thought process. It is this that relational accounts are after. Does this compromise their ability to produce insights about the social phenomenon under investigation? No, because researchers adopting a relational social constructivist perspective are explicitly interested in the pragmatic worth of their claims instead of being occupied with producing a complete representation of social reality 11 thus avoiding the

10 This reconstruction is also part of the rhetorical reality of which actors speak and serves to sustain it.

11 And that is precisely what relational analyses attempt to do - account for rather than explain something in its entirety. They don't pretend to capture all of reality and are necessarily partial efforts focused on specific aspects of social reality that the researcher finds interesting or 51 problem of analytical reification unable to answer how-questions without compromising their ability to look at social reification processes that produce the objects of their investigation.

This brings us to bounding practices as causal mechanisms. However, before I do, it is imperative that I elaborate on the way in which causation and causal mechanisms are conceptualized in the relational approach adopted in this dissertation project.

Causation in relational approaches is not theorized as variable-based but, rather, as configurational such that the relationship between what we conventionally recognize as 'cause' and 'effect' or 'outcome' is sufficient rather than absolutely necessary. Simply, variable-based causation argues that the presence of X will lead to outcome Y. The existing scholarship on the

India-Pakistan conflict falls under this category given its tendency to link the presence of one or more variables, e.g. 'the trauma of partition' or 'religious differences', with the outcome of

12 conflict . The basic argument here is that no matter what the social, geographical, political, or temporal context every time X appears outcome Y is bound to happen. Contradictions arising in this logic that are challenged when outcomes change are generally explained away by referring to unobservable motivations or accidents. As argued earlier this approach is flawed in so far that it fails to accommodate empirical heterogeneity or account for oscillations in outcomes.

On the other hand, configurational causality is focused on processes instead of variables as it strives ''to understand why certain things happen" by tracing "how they are produced by ... mechanisms" (Salmon 1984, 132). Here, the occurrence of outcome Y cannot be inferred directly by the presence of one or more variables; instead, outcomes are theorized as

deems important. They are ideal-typical in the Weberian sense insofar that researchers focus on tracing the emergence of outcomes by focusing on specific knowledge practices/social dynamics deemed relevant and/or important; s/he conceptually isolates these to trace their role in producing the outcome being investigated with the understanding that their influence is but a part of a larger causal complex.

12 Although, in recent years, there have been discursive analyses of national identity in the India-Pakistan context, particularly among scholars working on symbolism and nuclear politics, that move away from traditional variable-based explanations. However, to the best of my knowledge, there aren't any configurational accounts attempting to provide a causal explanation of the persistence of conflict in the India-Pakistan context till the writing of this dissertation. 52

"historically contingent rather than necessary consequences" (Jackson & Nexon 2001, 81 ). Thus, the causal pathway between X and Y is not a generalizable rule where the presence of one guarantees the other but, rather, about the specific, localized character of the concatenation of X in a space-time particularity such that outcome Y is produced. From this perspective then the fact that Pakistan is overwhelmingly Muslim and India is predominantly Hindu doesn't guarantee that conflict will ensue. It is the specific ways in which being 'Muslim' in Pakistan is imagined in relation to a 'Hindu India' and vice versa that is said to be constitutive of 'India-Pakistan relations'.

Thus, what is causal here aren't variables but, rather, practices in that it is a combination or sequence of conditions or events that produce the outcome under investigation.

Here causation is not analytically or theoretically predetermined but is, rather, grounded in empirical observations.

The main target in this dissertation project is the tendency to presume already-formed actors as fundamental units of analysis and the primary basis of explanation. Accordingly, the causal work in this account is performed by what I describe as 'bounding practices'. In its simplest iteration, bounding practices refer to the actions of actors in which the line between 'self' and

'other' is narrated. It is this process, I argue, following Tilly (2002) and Lapid (2001) that constitutes social or political order. Before explicating the connection between these two, a brief note on my use of the term 'bounding practices' rather than 'boundaries' is in order.

Although both terms refer to the act in which a line is inscribed between 'self' and

'other', the critical difference between the two terms is that 'bounding practices' specifically emphasize the role of agency13 in the constitution of difference. What do I mean by that?

In our present usage of the terms 'boundaries' or 'difference', it is unclear where the distinctions these delineate come from. Authors using these terms either presume that boundaries or the notion of difference capture some form of reality that is already in existence or

13 . By agency, I mean stabilization or worlding in the Heideggerian sense whereby actors belonging to a network collectively reveal the world as the 'world'. To elaborate, in talking about agency, I am referring to those (re)creative or (re)constructive processes (in the Shotterian moral-practical sense of knowing-from-within) within which social reality emerges. 53

14 simply leave the matter of the source of these distinctions untheorized . The term 'bounding practices, on the other hand, is used in this dissertation project to signify the processual/relational character of difference between 'self' and 'other' in that it is deemed constitutive of the social phenomena we study of which the India-Pakistan conflict is an example. Here, difference between 'self' and 'other' is theorized not as an entity whose existence is taken for granted but, rather, as emergent in ongoing social practices.

The articulation of bounding practices involves two critical, often overlapping as well as interrelated, procedures: ethics and legitimation.

Actors draw on rhetorical resources at their disposal and deploy particular ones that describe 'self' and 'other' as distinct. These rhetorical resources combined make up what Jackson calls a "rhetorical topography'' that frames the entire context in which social interactions take place (2006b). If asked to justify his/her/their actions, an actor is likely to say "I/we acted this way because I am/we are X". It is this X that is (re)created in the moment of differentiation. But where does this distinction come from? These lines demarcating 'self' as distinct from the 'other' do not appear out of thin air but are emergent in what I describe as ethically-inspired (re)membering.

More specifically, differentiating between 'self' and 'other' requires discursive work in which actors draw on their interpretations of similar articulations of difference between 'self' and

'other' in the past and their likely outcome in the future if deployed in the present circumstances.

This is what Shatter describes as "grammar of a practical-moral kind" whereby past human

14 In both these instances, the analysis presumes that the boundaries represent some form of difference out there that distinguishes 'self' from 'other'. Even scholars who argue that difference is socially constructed often subscribe to the notion that the construction itself is a representation of something already in-existence that is represented by actors. (I would argue that this approach contradicts its own principles; simply if something is 'represented' one can't technically 'construct' it.) This perspective subscribes to a dualist ontology and isn't suitable for the kind of monist approach taken in this dissertation which does not dispute the existence of "Reality'' with a capital "R" but, rather, insists that we have no way of proving its Existence or Essence in any definitive way for that would require stepping outside the context which is technically impossible. So it is not the existence that is disputed but our ability to attain that knowledge. To extend it to the case at hand, we cannot know whether there is an "lndian-ness" or "Pakistani-ness" out there but we can surely speak of and trace how 'lndian-ness' and 'Pakistani­ ness' is contingent, context-dependent, and constructed. 54 activities provide "organized settings" ... which contain the resources necessary for the sensible continuation of these past activities; or, to put it another way, previous social activity works to create an "order of possibilities" ... from which we must choose in deciding upon our next actions

- if, that is, they are to be actions 'appropriate to' or 'fitting' to their circumstances" (1993b, 6 &

69). Consequently, the future is understood to be dependent not on the "sheer force of one's conviction as to its possibility'' but, rather, on the ways in which "one must relate one's actions to what at any moment is a real possibility within it" (Shatter 1993b, 6). Thus, according to Shatter, the actions of actors that shape social and political life are not birthed out of "inner 'scripts',

'plans', or 'ideas', but must be sensitive in some way to the opportunities and barriers, the enablements and constraints, 'afforded' to ... [them) by ... [their] circumstances, in order to act into them (1993b, 6).

An actor's sense of self represents to him/her a continuation with the past, a tradition if you will that s/he can decide to maintain or alter; this decision is based on moral [i.e. whether or not the actor think it is ethically proper to perform a specific action because s/he is X; it is this moment in which Xis (re)constructed] and practical [i.e. an awareness of how to act that is context-dependent through and through as individuals choose the action they need to perform based on their understanding of how doing X will contribute to sustaining the social phenomenon at hand; again the context is always emergent in the moment that an actor experiences it] considerations. It is this process which I describe as ''.ethically inspired (re)membering" for it is in the memory of X and desire to preserve it that the identity of 'X' is always emergent.

The second procedure is the act of legitimation which involves the bounding of groups/communities such that inside/outside distinctions are the rationale on which the actions of the 'self' are based. Jackson describes legitimation as "the process of drawing and

(re)establishing boundaries, ruling some courses of action acceptable and others unacceptable"

(2002, 453-454). Stated simply, legitimation involves an engagement with rules to which actors refer as they decide on appropriate actions in a given space-time particularity. Rules are what 55

Wittgenstein refers to as the "grammar" of social reality; it is by studying grammar that one can examine how social reality coheres (1953, § 373). Temporally speaking, these rules involve both an interpretation of past actions as well as a consideration of a desired future. Legitimation involves what Shatter calls "knowing from within"; actors rely on "knowledge in practice" so that their actions are ethical/appropriate in a moral-practical sense (1993a, 18-19). Extending Bakhtin, legitimation struggles are not an inherent part of a social outcome but are, instead, "expressive" in that they arise "at the point of contact between the word and actual reality, under the conditions of that real situation articulated by the individual utterance ... [thereby appearing] as an evaluative position of an individual person" (1986, 88). It is worth mentioning that although legitimation is an integral part of social action, an account of this process by actors always occurs in retrospect.

It is this particular combination of "ethics" and "legitimation" that we see an actor - the

'self' - emerge in relation to an 'other' which then shapes socio-political order. This is precisely why bounding practices function as causal mechanisms in the argument contained herein. It is in bounding practices that entities or actors and relations between them are constructed. That is to say that, in the delineation of difference we have the articulation of a 'self' and 'other' by the

'self'15 as well as an emergent understanding of acceptable courses of action that can be undertaken by the actor in question. Saying that difference is to blame, which is the standard explanation proffered by existing accounts of the India-Pakistan conflict, tells us only half the story; by casting bounding practices in this role we can begin to understand how actors feel compelled to (re)construct 'self' and 'other' in particular ways and how these concatenate to

16 produce the outcome that we recognize as the 'India-Pakistan conflict' . To understand why this

15 This 'self' is always in-progress. This is what Shatter calls a "living tradition" that is "expressed or formulated in different ways, in different, concrete circumstances, by the use of a ... set of historically developed (and to an extent, morally maintained ... ) 'topological' resources, .. that does not give rise to a completely determined form of life, but to ... different possibilities for living" that frame an entire "'ecology' of ... unique 'positions"' each of which sustains a particular way of being and from which actors must choose continuously (1993b, 170-171 ).

16 A focus on bounding practices allows us to trace how identities, the entities that appear to have these identities, and how these entities act in the name of these identities is 56 is the case I will now explain how bounding practices constitute actors and their identities as well as the orders that we inhabit. In advancing this argument I'm influenced primarily by Lapid's analytical concept of the IBO 17 triad that looks at the co-constitutive relationship between identities, borders, and orders (2001). Lapid explains that "[p]rocesses of collective identity formation invariably involve complex bordering issues ... [while] acts of bordering (i.e. the inscription, crossing, removal, transformation, multiplication and/or diversification of borders) invariably carry momentous ramifications for political ordering at all levels of analysis" (2001, 7).

In this way, identities, borders, and order are always inextricably intertwined.

To understand how this is the case, let me first start by defining entities or actors.

Building on Abbott's suggestion to switch from ''things of boundaries to boundaries of things'', I define an entity or an actor as the result of yoking dimensions of difference into a systematic social reality; it is emergent as both oppositions and similarities that are assembled into a unified whole that distinguishes between 'inside' and 'outside' (1995, 857, 862, & 866-871 ). Simply put,

"an entity is its boundaries" (Jackson 1999, 142-143). That is to say that an entity or actor can be simply defined as the outcome of bounding practices and results in the ongoing (re)construction of an actor/entity that participants legitimize in ways that to them ensure its endurance. In this vein, an entity is not so much a noun as we think of it according to social conventions but, rather, is, logically speaking that is, a verb. Identifying or describing an actor (which is where we must begin in order to understand the outcome its actions produces) requires tracing its conditions of possibility, of its existence. This brings us to identity. capable not only of highlighting the persisteoce of conflict in the India-Pakistan context but simultaneously explain moves towards peace. Causality here is configurational in that the outcome is produced not by factors working on auto-pilot (a problematic approach in that it is unable to explain the co-existence of seemingly contradictory narratives of self-other relati9ns; it is not that the narratives are contradictory as these explanations would have us believe but, rather, that social phenomena are messy and chaotic) but, rather, by the specific concatenation of factors that can never be predicted in advance. In this vein, I find an approach that adopts a configurational perspective on causality superior for it allows to make sense not only of varied outcomes but because it also captures the chaos characteristic of social life while accounting for changes without resorting to unobservable motivations or accidents as part of the explanation.

17 IBO is an acronym for identities, borders, and orders (Lapid 2001 ). 57

For Tilly "[b]oundary construction is a fundamental social process ... crucial to the production of identities" (2002, 11 ). An identity, as I define it following the precepts of a relational perspective, is the contingent outcome of social practices in which ongoing negotiations about boundaries between 'self' and 'other' are yoked in ongoing social interactions into a more or less coherent narrative about how the 'self' is distinct from its 'other(s)' and, consequently, how it must act with these others to preserve itself thereby shaping political orders and self-other relations accordingly. Here identity is not seen as a negative source but as a productive or constitutive resource in that it is ongoing negotiations about "who we are?" that shapes how the "we" acts to change their worlds in a given space-time particularity.

While for participants identities are stable, we must remember that they are always in flux and stabilized therein. In the course of ongoing social interactions, actors draw on, and in doing so reconstruct, their notions of what entities they are and their identities as they make sense of the social worlds they inhabit. This, in turn, allows them to act in particular ways. As described above, the process of legitimation circumscribes the action an actor can take to keep his/her identity in tact or, as the case may be, change it in particular ways. When actors perform the actions they deem acceptable or in accordance with their identity as they narrate it in a given space-time particularity, outcomes are produced thus shaping socio-political order accordingly.

Thus, the causal explanation contained in this dissertation project attempts to sketch how bounding practices produce what is recognized by the actors involved as appropriately

'Pakistani' and 'Indian' thereby giving rise to 'India-Pakistan relations'.

Shedding light on social processes in which entities/actors are made to appear as natural occurrences requires not that we find meaning but how they are made meaning-full.

The starting point, then, must be the process of articulation or formation of these entities that appear to have specific kinds of identities.

By starting with entities and problematizing actorhood we gain access to the whole confusing and complex landscape of national identity whereby other is seen simultaneously as 58 friend and foe. In tracing how 'self' and 'other' emerge as distinct entities we can incorporate in our analyses both similarities and differences that make up this distinction; thus, we don't see either narratives of animosity or friendship as blips that emerge during periods of conflict and peace respectively but they are incorporated as we trace our way back to the conditions that legitimate the persistence of conflict amidst a multitude of narratives of nationalism. The question that must be answered next is how exactly to accomplish this task.

Identifying The Conceptual Tools: The Ethics Of Actorhood From A Relational Perspective

Shifting from a conceptualization of nationhood as a "thing' in the world", this investigation takes a relational tack and understands it as a "perspective on the world" and suggests that we look at the bounding practices in which actors and their identities are produced to be able to account for the political orders that command our scholarly attention (Brubaker

2004, 17). The methodological task, then, is to illustrate how the 'India-Pakistan conflict' is a consequence of the ways in which actors make sense of their world which I have argued is an ethical process.

The argument of the causal logic presented in the previous section can be summarized as follows: bounding practices of the 'self' negotiated in relation to 'other(s)' -7 identity & actor(s)

-7 relations between the 'self' and its 'other(s) or 'political order'. Bearing this in mind, I propose that analyzing the relationship between actorhood and political order involves probing two interpretive processes or moments.

First, the ethical imaginaries that define what actors negotiate as their authentic identities in the course of bounding 'self' and 'other' as distinct.

Adapting from the work of Muppidi, I define ethical imaginaries as "distinctive fields of meanings" that effectively play host to "an organized set of interpretations ... for making sense of a complex world" (2004, 25). 59

An ethical imaginary is what informs bounding practices in which 'self' and 'other' are differentiated; this is what has been referred to in the previous section as a moral-practical project in Shotterian terms (1993a and 1993b) Rather than presuming a priori actors with already formed identities and interests, here the focus remains on tracing the ways in which "some-thing" is made meaning-full so that it becomes "something" shaped by the way in which actors narrate their relevance in a given space-time particularity (Ringmar 1996, 451 ). This casts identity-formation and actorhood as a "two-way back-and-forth process of construction, oscillating in fact between the tasks of formulating two inter-linked narratives" one of which takes into account past ways of imagining the boundary between 'self' and 'other' - also known as the actors' identity - and future desired imaginations thereby ensuring continuity with a past and future through the actions performed in the present (Shotter 1993a, 123-129).

An ethical imaginary reveals the different rules that, for actors, circumscribe multiple ways of being themselves. In the case at hand, this would require that we begin to understand the interpretive circumstances in which Indians and Pakistanis view the 'other' as 'friend' as well as

'foe'. The task of an ethical imaginary is to reveal how these seemingly divergent imaginings can both be reconciled as appropriately Indian and Pakistani to the extent that this analytic "avoid[s] positing in advance the unproblematic existence of a unified, rational, coherent, bounded subject

... [and instead conceptualizes actors] as potential sites for the play of multiple discourses and shifting, multiple subject-positions" (Kondo 1990, 44).

To construct an ethical imaginary of actorhood then entails identifying commonplaces relevant to the phenomenon being investigated. Following Shotter, commonplaces here are conceptualized as "different possibilities for living, among which ... [actors] choose" rather than as

"fully predetermined, already decided distinctions" (Shotter 1993b, 170-171 ). Commonplaces are basically ambiguous 18 resources that can be interpreted in two or more ways and that actors can

18 Ambiguous in so far that meanings are not fully predetermined at any time. However, commonplaces also limit ambiguity for they provide a particular " 'ecology' of different and, indeed, unique positions - each offering different possibilities for the 'best way' to continue" 60 draw on in a given space-time particularity (Shatter 1993a, 54-56). Identifying and examining the commonplaces with respect to the histories in which they are embedded in a context helps us construct the relevant ethical imaginary in that they illuminate the multiple ways in which the 'self' can, literally be itself as it acts in specific ways at specific times.

The second moment is that of articulation. If ethical imaginaries provide us with clues as to the field of possible meanings that actors can draw on in the course of sociat interactions as they make sense of their world, then articulation clues us in to the specific interpretive practices that went into creating a given political order. Articulation here refers to ''the establishment of certain compelling links between different elements of meaning" (Muppidi 2004, 26). The repository of meanings to which actors have access is shaped by the ethical imaginary that they operate with; it is from the commonplaces available as part of this imaginary that actors choose.

How actors make meaning in particular ways at particular times - in other words, the act of articulation in a given spatio-temporal context - is what has a causal impact on political orders and shapes them directly.

Analyzing 'ethical imaginaries' and 'articulation' provides the necessary analytical flexibility to begin to answer the puzzle encapsulated in the following research question that is central to this investigation. Tracing how 'self' and 'other' are narrated so as to allow vastly diverging, even contradictory, narratives of 'self-other relations' is critical to understanding why peace continues to be elusive ih the India-Pakistan conflict. Probing the ethical imaginaries that facilitate diverse articulations of 'lndian-ness' and 'Pakistani-ness' is what we need to better account for both heterogeneity and oscillations in the tenor of relations between these two rivals.

(Shatter 1993a, 171 ). In other words, it's not as if anything goes - there are limits, of the moral­ practical kind, to the ways in which actors render their interactions and experiences meaning-full. Here the status of knowing something refers to the kind of knowledge generated in the course of social interactions; it is in this vein that it is practical. (Shatter 1993a, 7). It is moral in that "it depends upon the judgment of others [and/or our perceptions of how others will react to our actions/speaking] as to whether its expression or its use is ethically proper or not" (Shatter 1993a, 7). Although an aside, it is also worth mentioning here that because social reality is understood to be constituted in interactions among actors that relational theorists discard the objective/subjective distinction altogether. Since it is in relations that the world, as we know it, is emergent, then it is more appropriate to think along the lines of intersubjectivity. . 61

If the ethical imaginary proffers access to detailing how narratives of 'other as friend' and 'other as foe' coexist, then tracing specific articulations provides an opportunity to better understand how these counter one another thus leading to outcomes as varied and extreme as peace initiatives and outright war.

Nuts & Bolts: Using The Conceptual Tools

Having clarified the methodological rationale of this inquiry, the remainder of this chapter is devoted to its mechanics or the style of execution i.e. methods and research design.

Relational accounts share an intimate connection with stories or narratives given their emphasis on a processual ontology and epistemology (Tilly 2002). Tilly explains that story-telling is central to social life, in that identity claims, often politically contentious, are articulated through stories about self-other differences (2002, 11 ). For Nandy, the value of these stories lies in the fact that they lie outside conventional history and, therefore, provide an "alternative version" of socio-political life while revealing much more about "human subjectivities" as compared to traditional macro-politics in so far that their locus of attentiveness revolves around more emotional registers about human experiences (2008). While the content of such narratives might be questioned by some for their fidelity to historical accuracy they certainly provide freer access to the moral-practical considerations with which actors are concerned and, in that respect, maintain a greater affinity with the lived experiences of a phenomenon thereby providing a fertile site from which to examine the moral-practical or ethical considerations in which self-other relations are articulated.

Accordingly, in the chapters that follow, I trace and analyze bounding practices, specifically stories in which boundaries between 'self' and 'other' are imagined and legitimized, in the India-Pakistan context to understand how relations between the two nuclear rivals have been sustained as they are and in no other way. This process of analyzing stories about the 62

boundaries between 'self' and 'other', as fidelity to the precepts of relational work dictates, must

be carried out as an exercise in genealogical discourse analysis.

As Laclau and Mautte elaborate: "An earthquake or the falling of a brick is an event that

certainly exists, in the sense that it occurs here and now ... [b]ut whether ... [it is socially]

constructed in terms of 'natural phenomena' or 'expressions of the wrath of God', depends upon

the structuring of a discursive field" (2001, 108). Operating with similar assumptions, a

genealogical discourse analysis seeks to recover the contingent institutionalization of that which

is presumed to be naturally, even transcendentally, self-evident. It takes a given unity as its

starting-point and traces how it coheres not in "a (pre-) determined form of statements ... (but) a

group of rules" thereby grasping "the exact specificity of its occurrence" (Foucault 1972, 26-28 &

35-37).

Specifically, following in a Foucauldian tradition, genealogical discourse analyses seek

to understand the conditions of possibility of X by focusing on the social practices that sustain it

(1972). Accordingly, the goal of a genealogical discourse analysis of the India-Pakistan conflict

. such as this one is to highlight the dispersions within which the unity/stability that puzzles us

emerges in that it doesn't shy away from the cacophony of narrative possibilities that give rise to

what we recognize as a neat, coherent unity.

As Foucault elaborates on the purpose of genealogical analysis, it is not to "discover

the roots of our identity, but to commit itself to its dissipation. It does not seek to define our unique

threshold of emergence, the homeland to which the metaphysicians promise a return; it seeks to

make visible all those discontinuities that cross us"19 (1984, 95). Thus, a teleological unfolding of

19 Here the goal is to show how precise and specific concatenations in a space-time particularity produced the outcome/order under investigation. The argument seeks to understand how things came to be this way rather than simply presuming, rather deterministically, that the presence of X guarantees only a specific why. As mentioned earlier, relational approaches do not proffer standard covering laws to understand the way the world works. There are no variable­ based generalizations to be found in this work. Instead, generalizability can be found at the level of mechanisms whereby it is the specific concatenation of these that shapes social reality across space and time. The mere presence of a 'mechanism' is not of interest to a relational theorist for it 63

"lndian-ness" and "Pakistani-ness", which is the primary problem plaguing the existing literature

on India-Pakistan relations, is not perceived as the driving force that locks the two rivals in conflict. Instead, it these very notions that are placed under scrutiny as the India-Pakistan conflict

is conceptualized as arising within ongoing social relations that (re)construct it as a unified totality

(empirically speaking, of course) that is forged out of a historically specific and unique

deployment of distinct and often varied ways of imagining difference. By tracing the conditions of

existence in which the character or, to be more precise, the identities of 'India' and 'Pakistan' are

(re)constructed we begin to see how, in the course of articulating difference between 'self' and

'other', the entities 'India' and Pakistan' and relations between them concatenate amidst the

diverse positionings that actors occupy in a given space-time particularity.

The question that now begs to be answered has to do with the data of which this

investigation will make use. Simply, what is it that we ought to analyze to better understand how the India-Pakistan relationship has emerged as a consequence of the ways in which 'India' and

'Pakistan' have been bound? In this vein, I build on Garfinkel's assertion that the richest but,

sadly, most overlooked space of inquiry remains the realm of everyday life (1967).

Garfinkel maintains that an ethnomethodological approach focused on ordinary life

allows for the "produc[tion of] reflections through which the strangeness of an obstinately familiar

world can be detected" (1967, 38). It is this very approach I adopt to explore how the India-

Pakistan conflict is sustained by focusing on moments of bordering in everyday life to bring center-stage "the deeply embedded, implicit metaphors" that organize the ways in which we

"currently unthinkingly think" (Shatter 1993a, 123). Focusing on ordinary activities problematizes categories of social experience which, in turn, facilitates a critical understanding of the discourses within which social phenomena are embedded and legitimated while allowing for the production of

meaningful and reflective scholarship (Klein 1994).

tells us nothing. It is the way in which is combines and interacts with other mechanisms that relational research attempts to trace. 64

In this vein, studying everyday life to understand the articulation of "lndian-ness" and

"Pakistani-ness" holds within it the potential and promise that underscores the subtle ways in which identity itself is not really a teleological realization of some originary point or other, but, rather an ongoing moral-practical project. Consequently, the focus on discourses in this investigation is not just a dispassionate, objective excursion as is often the case in such analyses20 but, rather, inspired by the ethnomethodological emphasis on the import of everyday life, the conversations analyzed herein are conceptualized as 'experiences' in which actors and their identities are implicated and articulated. It is for this reason that the genealogical analysis of bounding practices contained in the next four chapters remains sensitive not just to the text at hand but to the moralities that are very much a part of the 'ethical' negotiation in which political and social orders are shaped. This requires that I, as the investigator, draw on my own embeddedness in a given interaction to make sense of the textual cues coming my way.

The discursive sites of everyday life specifically analyzed in this investigation can be divided into two parts.

The first part includes chapters 4 and 5. These are based on first-hand, open-ended interviews with liminar populations, namely Indian Muslims and Pakistani Muhajirs (those who migrated from India to Pakistan at partition or later or whose ancestors did; sometimes also referred to as Hindustanis more notably by Pakistanis living abroad). I focus on these populations following Norton's assertion that the overlap between 'self' and 'other' that is found in liminarity proffers a unique and rewarding vantage point from which to understand how differentiation works since it is in this ambiguity of neither inside or outside that typifies the lirhinar that boundaries are at their most transparent. It is for this very reason that these two chapters represent an attempt to detail the 'ethical imaginary' in which varied narratives of 'lndian-ness' and 'Pakistani-ness' are negotiated.

2°For a more detailed critique of this point please refer to Rouse (1999). 65

<;;hapters 6 & 7 focus explicitly on 'articulation' through an analysis of Bollywood films on India-Pakistan relations and first-hand interviews21 with public intellectuals as well as civil society activists who have been involved in Track II diplomacy efforts between the two rivals over the last 2 decades. These two chapters represent an attempt to grapple with the problem of contemporary India-Pakistan relations, specifically how they have been shaped by the ways in which 'lndian-ness' and 'Pakistani-ness' have been deployed in these contexts.

It must be noted here that I conducted a lot more interviews than the ones cited in chapters 4, 5, and 7 and also studied more than the three films on India-Pakistan relations included in chapter 6. My decision to include the interviews on which the analysis of chapters 4 and 5 rests was based on two factors. First, as I transcribed and analyzed the 7 4 interviews I conducted altogether, I began to note that the themes to which participants referred and the arguments they advanced were fairly repetitive. Thus, I employed a second consideration to avoid redundancy. I integrated, into the text, relevant excerpts from interviews with those participants with whom I had repeated and/or longer conversations primarily because these were the ones that provided me with an opportunity to better understand the ethical negotiations that individual actors wrestled with in-depth. As far as chapter 7 is concerned, my access, as a graduate student, to officials who have been involved in Track II diplomacy initiatives between

Pakistan and India only began to develop as I had spent considerable time in the field. I have included the interviews I was able to obtain and hope to conduct additional ones as I develop this dissertation into a manuscript for publication. With respect to the films included in this dissertation, I chose the ones that gained popularity in ways that they entered the broader public discourse on India-Pakistan relations as well as those texts that engaged consciously in a discussion about 'self-other boundaries'.

21 Participants were given the option to choose pseudonyms to preserve their confidentiality. Real names have been used only when participants insisted upon doing so. It is worth noting here that the latter situation arose primarily in the case of well-known personalities in Pakistan and India. 66

Some might critique the 'sample size' I have utilized in each of these empirical chapters as relatively narrow and, thus, unrepresentative. However, since the purpose of this investigation is to access the content and character of negotiations in which the 'self' articulates the other as both 'friend' and 'foe', the focus here is on those 'ethical considerations' that can afford such seemingly contradictory narrations of 'self-other relations'. In this vein, what is critical to this investigation is what Rudolph and Rudolph describe as ''following a rule" in the Wittgensteinian sense (2003, 681 ). Here, it is not the quantity that matters as much but, rather, what is more important is to understand the practices that make up the political order being investigated. As

Rudolph and Rudolph clarify, "[a] few well-placed informants make it possible to discern that a rule is being followed" (2003, 681). Similarly, the interviews and films included in the analysis contained herein might not represent a huge sample size in a quantitative sense, but they are certainly "illustrative" of the debates and negotiations that we must pay attention to in order to understand why peace fails to stick in the India-Pakistan context.

I now turn to the third chapter of this dissertation in which I provide a historical background of the two-nation theory. This is imperative in so far that the debates that took place around the two-nation theory in pre-partition India, particularly during the freedom movement which was aimed at ending British rule in the subcontinent, are formative with respect to shaping the ethical imaginaries of 'India' and 'Pakistan' with respect to precisely how the 'other' is seen as distinct from the 'self'. This brief historical overview is, therefore, intended to help contextualize the empirical discussion presented in chapters 4-7. CHAPTER3

THE TWO-NATION THEORY AS ETHICAL IMAGINARY

Indian and Pakistan identities, historically speaking, have continued to be defined in opposition to one another; if not exclusively so then surely in large part.

Prior to independence in August 1947, the freedom struggle waged against British colonial rule in India also expanded to include claims of differences, or lack thereof, between

Hindus and Muslims. The demand for an independent Pakistan rested on an idea known as the two-nation theory which encapsulated the basic notion of religious differences as the basis for some measure of independence with an independent Indian Union, and later, territorial separation from an India dominated by a Hindu majority. The claim for Muslim independence was contrasted against the demand for a united India that discounted the very idea of the two-nation theory on the basis that religious affiliations had no place in nationalist narratives or state- formation politics. As the freedom movement unfolded, Hindu and Muslim camps blamed each other for the mounting communal unrest in British India while casting themselves in the role of the one fighting the legitimate fight in the name of a transcendentally justifiable cause. Thus, any ensuing bloodshed was attributed solely to the follies and irrational aggression of the 'other'.

Following independence, similar claims continued to find their way into the nationalist imaginings of being 'Indian' and 'Pakistan'. As an example, consider the sentiments contained in the letters excerpted below from Amitava Kumar's Husband of a Fanatic (2005) that have been written by 1o'h and 11th grade Indian and Pakistani students to their imagined counterparts on the other side of the border:

Letter 1: Well Hindus and Muslims are two different nations. Muslims are not allowed to eat anything with a Hindu, and I don't have any Hindu friends, so I don't know about them, but I don't think that the relations of Pakistan with India are very good.

67 68

Letter 2: Dear Friends, I have never been to India but have always imagined how it would be to meet the people living over there. I think that there are lots of things which are common in both of us. Like we speak almost the same language only their names are different. We also look like as if we are of same country.

Letter 3: I am fine here and hope you are also the same. You are a person from the country Pakistan, where people just believe in destruction. India has always wanted to be a friend of yours, but we need two hands to clap.

Letter 4: Dear Indians, ... I am a Pakistani Muslim and I want to inform you that you are liars. You blame Pakistan for every issue. Pakistan wants to establish cordial relations with you, but your government is not ready to do that. ... You are always ready to fight. Can't we live in peace? You attacked Pakistan two times in 1965 and then 1971. This is really bad, and are you not ashamed of yourselves? (2005, 94-96)

If the first letter echoes sentiments of the great civilizational divide between a Hindu India and a

Muslim Pakistan, then the second letter seeks to locate commonalities to form the basis of friendship. Letters 3 and 4 cast the Indian/Pakistani 'other' as the one responsible for the

contentious nature of the relationship shared by the two nations. This links back thematically to

the blame game in the months leading up to partition; while the Muslim League emphasized that

it was a fear of Hindu domination that had pushed it to consider territorial separation the Indian

National Congress countered this accusation by blaming the Muslims for defiling the territorial

integrity, and hence glory, of a united India through a vivisection of the subcontinent.

As I embarked upon my field research for this dissertation project and studied stories

about bounding practices in everyday life to begin to understand how the ethics of actorhood birth

multiple narratives of 'self' and other' whose outcomes is varying 'self-other relations' in given

space-time particularities, it became increasingly clear to me that while the phrase "two-nation

theory'' might not be in circulation in public discourse as a phrase but its basic sentiments prevail1

in crafting specific articulations of the /Pakistani 'other' on both sides of the border. If the

'Pakistani other' is perceived as one who is spurred by "religious fanaticism" but with whom

"friendship" can be maintained based on the fact that s/he is after all a "brother" even if "led

1 This finding was produced by constructing the rhetorical landscape as emergent in the discursive sites analyzed in this investigation to identify the multiple ways in which 'India' and 'Pakistan' have been legitimated. I analyzed each specific bounding practice, rather articulation, using a genealogical approach to understand the moralities in which they are embedded. This technique has been adapted from Jackson 2006b. 69 astray'' by religiosity, the adjectives used to describe the 'Indian other' in the national narratives of

Pakistan range from "aggressor'' to "small-hearted" to a "neighbor'' with whom "friendship" ought to be brokered both in the interest of peace and stability and in the name of a shared past that is no longer cast in acerbic terms given the fact that territorial independence was achieved.

While some have chosen to understand this equation as a love-hate relationship between the two nuclear rivals, I find that unsatisfactory.

As I have argued in preceding chapters, it isn't enough to chalk a relationship to automatic linkages with sentiments that exist a priori for that leaves us with no explanation for why social and political orders cohere the way they do. If love and hate for the 'other' exist simultaneously where do these sentiments come from? How exactly do these seemingly conflicting emotions shape the 'self-other relationship'? If there is both 'love' and 'hate' for the

'other' then which dominates and shapes the political order in a given space-time particularity?

As I analyzed the debates genealogically and continued to ask these questions, I began to notice connections between contemporary India-Pakistan relations and the ambivalences that reigned supreme at the time leading up to independence - when confrontations between opposing nationalisms, one secular and one religious, also had to contend with considerations of commonality as the basis for affinity and unity. A look at India-Pakistan relations of the present will reveal traces of the rhetoric of the freedom struggle and of 1947 in both Indian and Pakistani national narratives in the course of legitimating 'military confrontation' with a loathed 'other' on some occasions and, on others, insists on the need for peace and stability with an 'other' with whom the 'self' has loads in common. Thus, as the empirical discussion that follows will highlight, the two-nation theory functions as the ethical imaginary in the context of India-Pakistan relations.

Bearing this in mind, this chapter seeks to set the stage for chapters 4-7. The first step in this direction requires that I provide a brief historical overview of the evolution of the two-nation theory in British India. In the second section, I provide a summary to highlight the 'ethical considerations' that lie at the heart of imagining and articulating 'lndian-ness' and 'Pakistani-ness'. I end the 70 chapter with a brief note on the two-nation theory as it has been studied in South Asian history and politics.

A Brief Historical Introduction To The Two-Nation Theory2

The underlying principle of the two-nation theory that formed the basis of the demand for Pakistan by the All-India Muslim League in British India and the subsequent creation of the

Pakistani nation-state is that the Hindus and Muslims, given the overwhelming differences in the social, political and cultural orders to which they belong, form two distinct civilizations and, therefore, the Muslims of India ought to be granted autonomy as a separately governed political unit. It must be noted here that for the longest time the Muslim League did not consider the two- nation theory as synonymous with the partition of the Indian subcontinent. In fact, it was not until the 1930s that the discourse of separatism began to creep into the League's rhetoric as a possibility. A separate state for the Muslims, on the basis of this theory, was explicitly vocalized after the Lahore Resolution of 1940 was passed in the Annual Meeting of the All-India Muslim

League following widespread concerns that the British were about to grant India its freedom which would mean, from the perspective of the members of the Muslim League, an exchange of foreign domination for a Hindu one. However, even as late as August 1946, the option of a united

India with a politically autonomous unit for Muslims was not completely discarded by the Muslim

League under the leadership of Mohammad Ali Jinnah who is credited in Pakistan with the title

Quaid-e-Azam (The Great Leader) and is deemed to be the Father of the Nation.

The origins of the two-nation theory can be traced back to the writings of Al-Biruni in the

11th century when he, during the course of his travels through the Indian subcontinent, observed how vastly different these two communities were in speech, dress, habits, behaviors, and their

2 Since this section reports what we conventionally understand to be widely known 'historical facts' in Pakistani and Indian history, both pre- and post-partition, individual in-text citations have not been provided. The following sources have been used in compiling this section: Ahmed 1997; Ali 1990; Alter 2001; Brass 1994; Collins & LaPierre 1997; Gaborieau 1985; Gilmartin 1998; Jalal 2000 and 1985; Rabbani & Sayyid 1995; Talbot 2000 and 1996; and Wolpert 2006. 71 overall outlook on life. The table below highlights some of these differences. The content included here has been excerpted from a list compiled by Humayun Akhtar that draws on Al-Biruni's observations to highlight the ways in and degrees to which Hindus and Muslims have articulated their distinctness from the 'other':

Table 1: Differences Between Orthodox Islam and Orthodox Hinduism

ORTHODOX !SLAM ORTHODOX HINDUISM r

Belief in the Unity of God. Islam stands for unity Belief in numerous inanimate and and brotherhood. animate representations of God incarnatinq on earth. Islam stands for fraternity and universal Hinduism perpetuates social brotherhood distinctions and upholds the caste system. Abolishers of ldolatory. Build and worship idols. in Islam any Muslim can qualify to become a In Hinduism only a Brahman is religious leader. eligible. Muslim Law of Inheritance provides law for an By the Hindu Law of Succession, equitable distribution of the deceased property property is inherited by the sons only, to the heirs and successors. mostly by the eldest son. Tattooing or colour-marking the body not Religious symbols are marked on permissible. forehead and piq-tails kept. Muslims bury the corpse. Hindus cremate the dead. Muslims eat beef. Majority worship cow. Script (Arabic character). script (Devanaqri character). Muslims have no belief in palmistry, magic, and Most Hindus harbour such beliefs. superstitions. Source: Content included in this table has been adapted from a longer pamphlet detailing a vast array of differences between Hindus and Muslims authored by Humayun Akhtar. The complete citation for the work in which this pamphlet appears and which I have used in compiling the table above is as follows: Humayun Akhtar. 2005. How Much is the Difference? In IND/A PARTITIONED: The Other Face of Freedom. Volume I, ed. Mushirul Hasan, 45-47. New Delhi, India: Lotus Collection (Roli Books). Original edition, New Delhi, India: Lotus Collection (Roli Books), 1997.

Over the course of time, even the most trivial of the differences, as encapsulated in the table above, became the basis on which Hindus and Muslims came to be increasingly identified, in the course of the freedom movement, as individual civilizations unable to coexist given that th~ir views, everyday practices, and their socio-cultural orders were markedly distinct. It must be noted that the above list compiled by Akhtar is not exhaustive but does illustrate a majority of the 72 differences in the way Hindus and Muslims conceptualized their societies, belief-system, life's

purpose, and visions of an after-life as distinct from that of the Muslim/Hindu 'other'.

The seeds of the two-nation theory as a political mechanism were sown through the

work of Sir Syed Ahmed Khan, a Muslim reformer who dedicated his life to the upliftment of the

Muslim community advocating that they should stir from the apathy that had set in following the fall of the Mughal Empire and subsequent takeover by the British. It was this, Sir Syed Ahmed

Khan argued, that continued to place the Muslims at a social, political, and economic disadvantage compared to the Hindus in an India ruled by the British for while the former had retreared to the confines of their own community the Hindus had learnt to play the game of the

masters. An excerpt of a speech delivered by Sir Syed Ahmed Khan in December 1887 shortly after the Indian National Congress was formed summarizes the dangers of which he warned the

Indian Muslims for, according to him, independence from the British, while distant was nonetheless a reality in which Muslims, given their minority status, backwardness in intellectual as well as social achievements, and lack of political participation unlike the Hindus, spelt their doom:

Now let us suppose that we have universal suffrage, as in America, and that all have votes. And let us suppose that all Muslim voters vote for a Muslim member and that all Hindu voters vote for a Hindu member and now count how many votes the Muslim member will have and how many the Hindu. We can prove by simple arithmetic that there will be four votes for the Hindu to every one vote for the Muslim. Now how can the Muslim guard his interests? It will be like a game of dice in which one man had four dice and the other only one? (Talbot 2000, 113)

Of all his efforts to ensure the progress of the Muslims, the one that is considered monumental was the establishing of a separate educational institution for Muslims (called Mohammedans at the time and often referred to by the same name in India today, more so in North-West India) by the name of Mohammedan Anglo-Oriental College at Aligarh. This later became the Aligarh

University and continued to play a pivotal role in what has been referred to as the Renaissance of the Muslims. 73

While Al-Biruni and Sir Syed Ahmed Khan can be credited with the vocalizing its fundamental principles, it is Allama Iqbal, a well-known philosopher and poet whose work focused a great deal on Muslim culture and politics, who provided the philosophical rationale for crafting out of a full-fledged theory that was used to support the demand for a separate homeland for the

Muslims of the Indian subcontinent. To understand the switch from recognition of the distinction between these two communities to yoking the two-nation theory so as to form the basis for a movement where some sort of separatism informed the vision of its proponents, we need to pay attention to the political climate of the late 1920s in British India

Following the 1918 Montague-Chelmsford Report, Indian politics saw a remarkable transition as the Indian citizenry themselves were given a more active role in the governance of the subcontinent alongside the British. As the political landscape was altered, there emerged a strong contingent of rural representation that politicized along religious lines. This was particularly noticeable in the Muslim dominated areas of the United Provinces, Bombay, , and

3 Bengal . At the same time, there was a significant rise in the number and activities of right-wing

Hindu fundamentalist organizations whose agenda and activities (e.g. conversion of Muslims to

Hinduism) was influenced by their sentiments about Muslims as public enemy number one.

These organizations included the Mahasabha, the Jana Sangha, and the RSS (Rashtriya

Swayamsevak Sangh) which later became the BJP (Bharatiya Janata Party). Finally, around the same time, it became apparent that the British Raj would increase the scope of the power-sharing that had commenced. At this time, the Indian National Congress (henceforth, referred to as The

Congress) had emerged as the strongest political party led by and Jawaharlal

3 It is worth noting here that these are the same provinces in which the majority of the Muhajir community that migrated to Pakistan after independence originally resided. In fact, it is the Muhajir community who remained front and center of the freedom movement. What is also worth mentioning here that even though a significant majority of immigrants from India to Pakistan made the journey from Indian-Punjab to Pakistani-Punjab when the province was partitioned, the way that Pakistani politics have played out these individuals are recognized/defined as Punjabis rather than Muhajirs. Within the Punjabi immigrants, there is a large percentage of Punjabi­ speaking Kashmiris who self-identify as Kashmiris first and Punjabis next with very few claiming a Muhajir identity. Interestingly enough, these Kashmiris are not recognized as such by those in the Jammu and Kashmir Valley as authentically Kashmiri given the fact that they speak Punjabi. 74

Nehru among others. That a Hindu brass of leadership spearheaded the Congress and that the party had overlooked developments that impacted the Muslims negatively (e.g. increasing anti-

Muslim violence and the gradual eradication of Urdu as a language of instruction) caused a crisis among its Muslim members who were fearful that in the course of being relegated to second- class citizen status they would eventually come to be dominated by a Hindu majority. Krishna, elaborating on the politics of the Congress, points out that:

While there ... [was] no denying that secular nationalism as embodied by someone like Jawaharlal Nehru, was often more than skin-deep for many, that does not alter the fact that that its center of gravity was way closer to something identifiably Hindu or majoritarian than something secular .... Congress's secular nationalism allowed for the construction of pluralities that won elections, provided access to power, and cobbled together recalcitrant constituencies inclined toward fragmentation .... What Congress's commitment to secular nationalism could not begin to address, except by deferring it to an indefinite future in which the nation would come into its own ... was the social distance separating various religions and castes in a society deeply enmeshed in rituals of purity and pollution ... [in which the] swift labeling of any assertion of cultural, regional, linguistic, or ethnic distinctness as "communal" ... "includes the Muslim out." (2002, 205- 207)

The combination of these developments and the increasing fissures within the discourse of Indian nationalism as a revolt against the British Raj led to a spate of communal riots that lay the groundwork for a different deployment of the notion of two nations sparked by a general insecurity amongst the Muslims of India for their safety. Thus, we see that what began as a declaration of the distinctiveness and integrity of Muslim identity was renarrated in such that political autonomy became the defining goal. It was during his Presidential Address at the Annual

Meeting of the All-India Muslim League at Allahabad in 1930 that Allama Iqbal stated: "[t]he formation of a consolidated North-West Indian Muslim State appears to be the final destiny of the

Muslims, at least of North West India ... the life of Islam as a cultural force in this country very largely depends on its centralization in a specified territory" (Pakistan Times [Islamabad,

Pakistan] 29 May 2007). Rather than an independent state per se, what is envisioned here is a demand for statehood in those areas where the numerical strength of the Muslims outnumbered those of other communities. 75

However, from this point forward, the works of other popular thinkers created a certain ambivalence after which it was only a short flight of imagination from statehood within a united

India to an independent state. The separation of Hindus and Muslims as two distinct civilizations was an idea that had become firmly entrenched within a significant segment of the population. An increase in anti-Muslim violence accompanied by a demand for political autonomy created space for the idea of an independent state to have resonance (Shaikh 1989). This is best exemplified by the work of Chaudhry Rehmat Ali, a lawyer based in Cambridge at the time, who authored pamphlets and books to rally his fellow Muslims and inspire them to participate actively and wholeheartedly in the Pakistani cause. Amongst his innumerable contributions, Chaudhry Rehmat

Ali is also credited with coining the word Pakistan in his pamphlet "Now or Never" published in

1933 demanding an independent state for the Muslims of India. This text also acquired somewhat of a foundational status in the Muslim League's Pakistan Resolution (discussed below) passed in

1940. The word "Pakistan" meant "land of the pure" and, as Ali elaborated, was an acronym whereby: P = Punjab, A = Afghania (referring primarily to the tribal areas in present-day Pakistan including some territory that is part of present-day Afghanistan), K = Kashmir, S = Sindh, and

ISTAN =Baluchistan. An 'I' was added between the 'K' and 'S' for ease of pronunciation.

After Iqbal's historical address, the All-India Muslim League stepped up the pace of its efforts gradually. In addition to rallying the masses, the League also had to confront the Congress which had consolidated its political clout and position decades ago. The Congress continued to emphasize the fallacy of separatism through appeals to the illegitimacy of religious bases of nation-hood and the presence of strong social ties between the two communities. Balachandran's portrayal of the development of the Congress's secular national discourse can help shed light on the politics of the time:

Although its nationalism continued to be characterized by its fit with Brahminical Hinduism, the party lurched, from the mid-1930s onwards, towards more overt secular postures. Influenced largely by left-wing radicalism, younger leaders, among whom Jawaharlal Nehru was most important tended to reject religion as an explicit factor in modern nationalism, and believing that its contemporary importance stemmed from poverty and ignorance, tried to reach out to ordinary Muslims over the heads of their 76

traditional leaders. They experienced some moderate success. However, given especially the background in which this tendency came into prominence within the Congress, the republicanism of Nehru and the younger party leadership was unavoidably refracted through the reality of growing sectarian religious strife. (Krishna 2002, 205)

At the same time, the insistence of the Congress on being the representative of the

Indian people irked Muslim Leaguers. Responding to Nehru's stater;nent in March 1937 that

"British imperialism" and "Indian nationalism as represented by Congress" were the only two political forces in India, Jinnah wasted no time in responding and claimed the Muslim League as an "equal partner" in politics alongside the Congress (Bolitho 1954, 113-114; Seervai 1990, 20).

Pandey's argument on the establishing of an Indian nationalist core is instructive in accounting for this appeal juxtaposed against the secular nationalism of the Congress in his comparison of the

"Hindu nationalist" and the "Nationalist Muslim" (1999). Noting that the term "Nationalist Muslim" was a creation of the freedom movement that culminated in the partition of 1947, Pandey observes that:

Perhaps the first point to be made about the category of the Nationalist Muslim is that there is no equivalent category for the Hindus, or for that matter any of the other religious groupings in India. Interestingly, in speaking of the politics of Hindus, the term is frequently reversed to read "Hindu nationalists." The reverse is of course not coincidental. What does the term "Hindu nationalists" signify? It does not refer simply to nationalists who happen to be Hindus. It is, rather, an indication of their brand of nationalism, a brand in which the Hindu moment has considerable weight. It is a nationalism in which Hindu culture, Hindu traditions, and the Hindu community are given pride of place. Alongside the rise of this Hindu nationalism, and much more emphatically in the course of time, another more inclusive kind of nationalism had developed, which emphasized the composite character of Indian society and refused to give the same sort of primacy to the Hindu element in India's history and self-consciousness .... This was the Indian nationalism of the Indian constitution - "nationalism,'' pure and simple [and secular]. There were of course signs of a growing "Muslim" nationalism over the period. Like Hindu nationalism, this Muslim variant developed side by side with the broader "Indian" nationalist movement. However, (unlike Hindu nationalists], politically active Muslims were not divided into "Muslim nationalists" and "secular nationalists". They were divided instead into "Nationalist Muslims" and "Muslims" .... Some Muslims were advocates of "Indian" nationalism, and hence "Nationalist Muslims." The remainder of that community, however, ... were not likely to be supporters of Indian nationalism on account of their being Muslim. (1999, 609-611)

Borrowing his logic from the phrase "innocent until proven guilty" and vice versa, Pandey goes on to write that although a Hindu's lndian-ness is never doubted, a Muslim remains, as it were, guilty 77 of unpatriotism and his/her nationalism is regarded as suspect until s/he can prove their Indian- ness {1999, 619).

By the time the 1937 elections rolled around, the Muslim League, under Jinnah, who assumed party leadership in 1935, had not yet had the chance to win the support of the masses in their struggle for political autonomy for the Muslims. This translated into a visibly poor performance in the elections for the Muslim League. That they won less than 5% of the Muslim vote provided Congress w,ith further evidentiary basis that their secular argument had greater resonance with the Indian public and that a united India following the departure of the British was what the people had willed. It was, however, Jinnah's Presidential Address at the Annual Meeting of the All-India Muslim League held in Minto Park, Lahore on March 23, 1940 that proved to be the turning point:

It is extremely difficult to appreciate why our Hindu friends fail to understand the real nature of Islam and Hinduism. They are not religions in the strict sense of the word, but are, in fact, different and distinct social orders. It is a dream that Hindus and Muslims can ever evolve a common nationality, and this misconception of one Indian nation has gone far beyond the limits, and is the cause of most of our troubles, and will lead India to destruction, if we fail to revise our notions in time. The Hindus and the Muslims belong to two different religious philosophies, social customs, and literature. They neither intermarry, nor interdine together, and indeed they belong to two different civilizations which are based mainly on conflicting ideas and conceptions. Their aspects on life and of life are different. It is quite clear that Hindus and Musalmans derive their inspiration from different sources of history. They have different epics, their heroes are different, and they have different episodes. Very often the hero of one is a foe of the other, and likewise, their victories and defeats overlap. To yoke together two such nations under a single State, one as a numerical minority and the other as a majority, must lead to growing discontent and the final destruction of any fabric that may be so built up for the government of such a State. (Presidential Address of M.A. Jinnah, March 1940)

Invoking the two-nation theory, Jinnah, who came to be known as the Quaid-e-Azam (The Great

Leader) in Pakistan and is credited as the Father of the Nation, went on to argue in favor of the vivisection of the Indian Union into two separate states of which one was to be a homeland for the

Muslims of India. It is for this reason that this speech is often referred to as part of the Pakistan

Resolution which was circulated in print at the meeting and also made available in both Urdu and

English in the offices of the Muslim League throughout India. It is important to note that the date 78 on which Jinnah delivered this speech is celebrated annually in Pakistan as 'Pakistan Day'. A monument at Minto Park in Lahore has also been erected to commemorate this event.

Responding to Jinnah's Pakistan Resolution, an extremely saddened and disappointed

Gandhi wrote shortly thereafter:

But I do not believe that Muslims, when it comes to a matter of actual decision, will ever want vivisection .... The 'two nations' theory is an untruth. The vast majority of Muslims of India are converts to Islam or descendants of converts. They did not become a separate nation as soon they became converts. A Bengali Muslim speaks the same tongue that a Bengali Hindu does, eats the same food, has the same amusements as hi Hindu neighbour. They dress alike. I have often found it difficult to distinguish between a Bengali Hindu and a Bengali Muslim ....

And is Islam such an exclusive religion as Quaid-e-Azam would have it? Is there nothing in common between Islam and Hinduism or any other religion? Or is Islam merely an enemy of Hinduism? ... I am not now thinking of individual Hindus who may have disillusioned the Muslim friends. Quaid-e-Azam has, however, raised a fundamental issue ....

[Referring to Jinnah's address specifically as quoted on the previous page, Mahatma Gandhi goes on to write] He does not say some Hindus are bad; he says Hindus as such have nothing in common with Muslims. I make bold to say that he and those who think like him are rendering no service to Islam; they are misinterpreting the message inherent in the very word Islam. I say this because I feel deeply hurt over what is now going on in the name of the Muslim League. I should be failing in my duty, if I did not warn the Muslims of India against the untruth that is being propagated amongst them. This warning is a duty because I have faithfully served them in their hour of need and because Hindu-Muslim unity has been and is my life's mission. (Gandhi 1940).

Gandhi's response to Jinnah's Pakistan Resolution was marked by an underlying conciliatory approach in that his denial of the logic of the two-nation theory was grounded in terms of religiosity. Writing later that same month, Gandhi, admitting that if the political will of the Indian

Muslims desired it then partition would be achieved but, simultaneously expressed his refusal to compromise with the proposal for an independent Pakistan. He urged Muslims to remember a time:

when Hindus thought that the Muslims were the natural enemies of Hindus. But as is the case with Hinduism, ultimately it comes to terms with the enemy and makes friends with him. The process had not been completed. As if nemesis had overtaken Hinduism, the Muslim League started the same game and taught that there could be no blendings of the two cultures .... Religion binds man to God and man to man. Does Islam bind Muslim only to Muslim and antagonize the Hindu? Was the message of the Prophet peace only for and between Muslims and war against Hindus or non-Muslims? Are eight crores of Muslims to be fed with this which I can only describe as poison? Those who are instilling 79

this poison into the Muslim mind are rendering the greatest disservice to Islam. I know that it is not Islam. I have lived with and among Muslims not for one day but closely and almost uninterruptedly for twenty years. Not one Muslim taught me that Islam was an anti-Hindu religion. (Gandhi 1940)

Contrast Gandhi's approach against Nehru's more forceful response legitimated in a vision of secularism that viewed religious affiliations as out of place in the realm of politics and as an illegitimate form of nationalism. His thoughts on the two-nation theory and the Pakistan

Resolution are best encapsulated in his book, The Discovery of India, originally published in

1946, where he talks at length about the impracticality of the vision of a nation-state that divided

India which, in order to succeed and function successfully, had to stay united or, at least, be involved in ongoing cooperation for both survival and progress:

It may be that some division of India is enforced, with some tenuous bond joining the divided parts. Even if this happens, I am convinced that the basic feeling of unity and world developments will later bring the divided parts nearer to each other and result in a real unity4.

That unity is geographical, historical and cultural and all that. But the most powerful factor in its favour is the trend of world events. Many of us are of opinion that Indian is essentially a nation; Mr Jinnah has advanced a two-nation theory and has lately added to it and to political phraseology by describing some r~ligious groups as sub-nations, whatever these might be. His thought identifies a nation with religion. That is not the usual approach today ....

In India, as elsewhere, we are too much under the bondage of slogans and set phrases deriving from past events and ideologies which have little relevance today, and their chief function is to prevent reasoned thought and a dispassionate consideration of the situ.ation as it exists. There is also the tendency towards abstractions and vague ideals, which arouse emotional responses and are often good in their way, but which also lead to woolliness of the mind and unreality. . . . ·

Any decisions taken primarily on the basis of emotions, or when emotions are the dominating consideration, are likely to be wrong and lead to dangerous developments (Nehru 1946)

So while Gandhi's words represented an attempt to appease the Muslim community that subscribed to the vision of the All-India Muslim League, Nehru, drawing on what he claimed was the objective logic of modern thinking, dismissed the demand for Pakistan both as

4 Nehru later commented that Pakistan was an aberration that would have to re-enter the Indian Union sooner or later. His comments and thoughts on this subject confirmed Pakistan's fears that a Hindu India had hegemonic designs on its territorial integrity even in a post-1947 political order. 80

impractical and as evidence of a farcical religious fanaticism that he held responsible for duping

the masses.

It is worth mentioning here that party lines were not neatly drawn such that Muslims

supported the League while Hindus gravitated towards what the Congress had to offer. A

sizeable number of Hindus, including prominent ones like Savarkar were in agreement with the

Muslim League's assertion that the Hindus and Muslims formed distinct civilizations whose

coexistence was both undesirable and impractical. Many of them claimed membership in right-

wing religious organizations as mentioned earlier. Similarly, there were many Muslims over whom

Nehru's secularist, objective logic of statehood cqntinued to hold sway. It wasn't only Congress

Muslims who stood in opposition to Jinnah's vision of a secular and democratic Pakistan. Since the Muslim League continued to define its demand for a separate state as a homeland for

Muslims rather than as an Islamic state, right-wing Muslim organizations refrained from throwing their lot in with the League and remained aligned with the Congress' vision of a united India in

which religious matters would be left to the clergy for such business was not appropriate for the

state to be involved in. The most notable example of this is the Jamaat-e-lslami5 founded by Abul

Ala Maududi in August 1941. Maududi initially rejected the nationalism and democracy preached

by the Muslim League as examples of Western principles that were un-lslamic given their

emphasis on secular modes of thought. Calling true Muslims to unite around his cause, Maududi

asked "why should be foolishly waste our time in expediting the so-called Muslim national state

and fritter away our energies in setting it up, when we know that it will not only be useless for our

purpose but will rather prove an obstacle in our path (of establishing an Islamic state with a truly

5 Other religious organizations stressing upon the importance of Shariah in present-day Pakistan tend to be conflated with the Jamaat-e-lslami that emerged in India in 1941. This is not entirely accurate. The mission of the Jamaat-e-lslami is explicitly political in that it looks to be actively involved in matters of the state - it sees itself as a religious political party. Contrast this against the Tableeghi Jamat in Pakistan that refrains from active participation in politics and continues to support commonly approved ideals of governance like democracy and freedom of the press. Unlike the Jamaat-e-lslami, the Tableeghi Jamat is a religious organization concerned solely with bringing the lives of Muslims in harmony with spiritual responsibilities and Islamic edicts grounded in the Quran and Sunnah of the Prophet. Their mission is grounded not in politics but in individual reformation. 81

Islamic order based on Shari'ah/lslamic Law]?" (Maududi 1947; Maududi 1955, 37). However, by

1945, as an independent state of Pakistan began to look like a concrete reality, Maududi and his

Jamaat-i-lslami joined the efforts of the Muslim League rationalizing their support as a means to transforming this Muslim homeland into an lslamicstate6 (Binder 1963).

In the wake of the contentions that characterized the relationship and interactions between the Indian National Congress and the All-India Muslim League, the latter began to consolidate its own political clout as the demand for a separate homeland for the Muslims fell into increasing favor with a greater number of Muslims. Come 1944, the League's membership rose from a mere one thousand in 1926 to two million and it went on to secure a comfortable victory-

75% of the Muslim vote - in the elections of 1945-1946 (Ahmed 1997a, 111-112). Having secured its place in the , the League finally came to be recognized as a force to contend with. One that could certainly be disliked and/or disagreed with but, by no means, ignored anymore.

Despite its growing popularity, the League had yet to convince all Indian Muslims to support the . Those who lived in provinces such as United Provinces,

Bombay, and the Gujarat region where Muslims formed a minority became the most active freedom fighters, as it were. These are the same people who migrated to Pakistan in and around

1947 and are known as Muhajirs. The reactions of Muslims residing in provinces where they were in a majority ranged from apathy to a hostility that resulted in active campaigns denouncing the

7 idea of Pakistan altogether .

6 Briefly, the distinction between 'Muslim' and 'Islamic' in this context is best exemplified in Jinnah's vision of Pakistan as a separate homeland for Muslims (as an ethnic grouping within the larger motley of identities in India) juxtaposed against Maududi's stance where the erection of an Islamic political order is of paramount importance. This distinction will also be referred to in subsequent chapters where it is explored in greater depth. I would like to take this opportunity to mention another project I am currently working on that explores this distinction in the context of contemporary Pakistani politics.

7 It is worth noting here that a significant core of these Muslim-majority areas now constitutes present-day Pakistan. In a post-1947 order, there have been increasing clashes between those claiming ancestry to these regions and those who migrated. The former argue that 82

Nonetheless, despite opposition the Muslim League continued to garner support. On 3

June 1947, popularly referred to as the June 3rd Plan, Lord Mountbatten (then Viceroy of India)

formally announced that the Indian subcontinent would be partitioned into the independent states

of India and Pakistan (comprising of East Pakistan - i.e. present-day - and West

· Pakistan which forms the territory known as Pakistan today). On July 15, the British Empire

passed the Indian Independence Act of 1947 which proclaimed that the two countries would be

granted independence in August 1947. The task of drawing up the boundaries of these two

states was entrusted to Cyrill Radcliffe.

It is widely regarded that the Radcliffe Award (which is what the document announcing

the territorial boundaries of India and Pakistan is referred to as) had been decided earlier in

August but because of the special relationship shared by Nehru and Mountbatten they weren't

formally announced until August 17, 1947 to gain time to reallocate the territories in India's favor

(Chester 2002; Read & Fisher 1997). Irrespective, the actual event of partition/independence was

marred by unprecedented communal violence. The same logic of the two-nation theory that had

produced the two independent nations of Pakistan and India stared them in the face promising

overwhelming rage, violence, and destruction. Oral accounts of partition remain replete with

countless stories of Hindus and Sikhs killing Muslims and vice versa.

However, these are also punctuated by stories of Muslims, Sikhs, and Hindus helping

each other and protecting them from the carnage and violence. Their reasons for doing so were

simple and ranged from 'humanity', in the case of strangers, to wanting to provide shelter to those

who had been their friends and neighbors and with whom they had shared their life experiences.

They saw these people as distinct, as the 'other' but their reaction to difference came from a

place that saw something other than 'divisiveness' or 'revenge'. In early fiction about the partition

- such as the stories authored by literary greats like Husain, Manto, Singh, and Hyder - it is this

they are more authentically Pakistani by virtue of their ties to "Pakistani soil" by birth. The latter, i.e. Muhajirs, claim that they are just as authentically Pakistani given that it was primarily their struggle and sacrifices that led to the birth of the nation-state of Pakistan. 83 very sentiment that has been used in the form of a silent protest against the efficacy of a division that wrought only loss, alienation, and chaos. Oral histories of this event such as the one compiled by Butalia (2000) have since highlighted the narrative of commonality to lodge their plea for peace and friendship - of an India-divided that must now learn to get along while respecting each others' boundaries.

In each of these narratives lie varied appeals to the notion of 'two-nations'. Those who killed did so in the name of protecting civilization, in the name of purity, in the name of hatred for the 'Hindu/Muslim other'. Those who protected did so in the name of the same reasons but, in their eyes, these differences called for very different actions.

This section has sought to present how the two-nation theory evolved. Jalal (2000) and

Krishna (2002) have rightfully identified the two-nation theory as having organized the politics of the time around a nationalisVcommunalist dyad. To the extent that the two-nation theory influences the ways in which 'lndian-ness' and 'Pakistani-ness' are constructed, this dyad continues to shape the discursive field that is India-Pakistan relations. From the Indian nationalist position it came to be conceptualized as a separatist movement grounded in the illegitimacy of a communalist spirit that had no place in the modern business of nation-making. In Pakistani discourse, the two-nation theory is synonymous with an independence movement imbibing the nationalist sentiments of a community that rightfully deserved and needed political autonomy to safeguard its own interests. Moving away from the communalisUnationalist dyad, there is yet another discourse that is part of the ethical imaginary of the two-nation theory. This is constituted by appeals to shared experiences and pasts and is deployed by actors as the basis for peace and harmony.

The Ethical Imaginary & Potential Articulations

As evidenced from the historical discussion presented in the previous section, the notion of the 'two-nation theory' was hardly a monolithic one nor did it suddenly emerge out of 84

thin air. Not only did different actors interpret and deploy it in different ways at the same time but,

also, the same actors deployed it in different ways at different times. For example, in the 1930s,

the Congress saw in this an undesirable outcome grounded in communalist sentiments. Contrast

this against Sir Syed's formulation of this notion. For him, it became the basis of asserting Muslim

identity and inspiring political participation for those who followed in his footsteps. For Chaudhry

Rehmat Ali, there was room to maneuver within the articulation provided by Sir Syed Ahmed

Khan given a context in which Muslims had become the target of communal violence in a united

India. Iqbal, in his Presidential Address, had vocalized the need for political autonomy drawing

upon this very notion. That the Muslim community had, over the years, come to be seen as a

distinct, even diametrically opposed, civilization when juxtaposed against the Hindus provided the

rhetorical legitimation necessary to garner mass support for an independent nation-state over the

course of the freedom struggle. For the Congress, this demand for an independent Pakistan was

an undesirable outcome of communalist sentiments.

This vast array of reactions provides some clues with respect to understanding how the

two-nation theory, as the ethical imaginary in which India-Pakistan relations are emergent, has

historically come to afford three distinct articulations of 'self-other relations'. I discuss each of

these in turn below.

The first is a narrative in which notions attached to "religious nationalism" function as the main ethical consideration. Deployed in the Pakistani national imagination, religious

nationalism is the basis on which the 'Indian other' comes to viewed as an enemy. It finds its justification in the rhetoric of the Muslim League as its members campaigned for political

autonomy and, later, an independent nation-state in the form of Pakistan. Just as the 'Hindu' in

British India was perceived as the 'aggressor' from whom the Muslims of India had much to fear vis-a-vis their very identity and being, India now continues to pose a similar threat to Pakistan. It

is for protection and ensuring its very survival that the 'Pakistani self' orients its actions towards the 'Indian other' as 'foe'. 85

Second, the articulation of 'Pakistani other' as 'enemy' in the Indian national narrative seeks to justify itself by appeals to the rationality of a "secular nationalism". This is best exemplified by Nehru's thoughts discussed in the previous section on the illegitimacy of religiosity as the basis around which to organize national identity and nationhood. In this script, Pakistan's religious fanaticism represents a security threat to the territorial integrity of India just as it did in

1947 when the country was partitioned.

Last, but not least, is the notion of 'other' as 'friend' or 'neighbor' that is found on both sides of the border and affords the imagination of 'peace' between Pakistan and India. The ethical roots, as it were, of this articulation stem from appeals to a shared past including similar customs, speech, ways of dressing etc as well as 'preserving humanity'. This logic of this discourse trace its ancestry to the cooperative moments on which Jinnah, Nehru, Gandhi stressed prior to as well

8 as after partition . In the Pakistani national narrative, this translates into making 'peace' following the fact that 'partition' has already provided the security that was necessary to safeguard the very identity of the Muslims of British India thus rendering animosity futile, even unnecessary, in a post-1947 world order. In this vein, Jinnah's parting words as he left for Karachi from New Delhi on August 7, 1947 to take charge as the Governor-General of the Pakistani state illuminate this very sentiment as he paints a picture in which India and Pakistan must learn to live amicably despite the communal hatred that spread during the freedom movement: 'The past must be buried and let us start afresh as two independent sovereign states of Hindustan [India] and

Pakistan. I wish Hindustan prosperity and peace" (2000, 22). The Indian national narrative also draws upon a similar appeal to commonality but against a slightly different reference point with respect to partition. If for Pakistan, the 'Indian other' can be imagined as 'friend' following

8 While other scholars might argue that this mechanism has nothing to do with the two­ nation theory for it does not react to the notion of 'difference' or 'boundaries', I would say that their approach is rather narrow-minded. Difference or boundaries are not inherently evil or contentious; instead, they mark the space at which 'self' and 'other' begin and end in relation to each other. In that vein, the character of the boundaries is not what marks difference but that two actors are considered as distinct from each other. The relationship itself, e.g. friendship or animosity, is shaped by the narration of the distinctiveness itself. 86 partition, in the Indian narrative, the 'other' is proclaimed 'friend' despite the reality of a partition in which Mother India was divided thereby compromising her territorial integrity. So, while both

'lndian-ness' and 'Pakistani-ness' construct a similar narrative of 'commonality' grounded in a shared past, it is the different ways in which these two actors make sense of this very same past that is of critical import to understand why 'peace' fails to stick despite repeated commitments to

'friendship'. A return to 'partition' serves as a reminder of the times in which India's secular nationalism confronted Pakistan's religious nationalism resulting in increased hostilities and differences of opinion. As explained above, these are the very articulations that legitimate imagining the 'other' as 'foe' thereby creating the potential for mistrust even amidst acknowledgements of 'commonalities' deployed in the course of legitimated outcomes such as peace initiatives.

The peculiar shape taken by each of these articulations will be illustrated in depth through the empirical analyses presented in the next five chapters.

For now, it is important to point out that although these articulations can be separated analytically and, depending on the context, even empirically, it must be remembered that they often confront and overlap with each other in the course of actual empirical deployment. The outcome shaped by this encounter is not something that can be predetermined but is, instead, context-dependent.

What the next four chapters seek to demonstrate is two-fold. First, in chapters 4 & 5, I map the contexts in which these articulations have emerged to illustrate how and when actors, both in India and Pakistan, have deployed the ethical imaginary of the two-nation theory in the course of shaping their sense of 'self' as distinct from the 'other'. These linkages will demonstrate how, for example, the most mundane aspects of everyday life such as pronunciation and vocabulary choices as well as more fundamental considerations like birthright and religious practices are made meaning-full using the articulations birthed out of the two-nation theory thereby shaping the very notions of 'India' and 'Pakistan' and, consequently, the kinds of actions 87

that can be undertaken by the actors acting in the name of these identities. Second, after

mapping how 'India' and 'Pakistan' have been imagined in relation to each other, chapters 6 & 7

turn to a different set of sites that are relevant to understanding contemporary relations between

India and Pakistan, more notably 1998-2008 which is the time period when oscillations between

'war' and 'peace', as it were, have been more frequent. Focusing on this time period is particularly

instructive for an investigation like this one given its concern with the ways in which varied

political orders and multiple narratives of identity co-constitute each other. This last point, in

particular, is developed in the concluding chapter where I analyze the India-Pakistan relationship

in the wake of the Mumbai terrorist attacks in November 2008.

Concluding Note

As mentioned earlier, the historical backdrop provided in this chapter helps locate the

ethical imaginary that births India-Pakistan relations and is intended to help set the stage for the

empirical analysis to follow by orienting us to the potential for action afforded by each of the

articulations detailed thus far. By linking these two we can begin to understand their place in

subsequent social interactions in which bounding practices shape both actorhood and socio­

political orders in the India-Pakistan context.

However, before we head in that direction, a prefatory note is in order. In recent years, several scholars like Hasan (1997), journalists, and politicians (most notably, Altaf Hussain who is the leader of the Muttahida Qaumi Movement in Pakistan - a primarily Muhajir political party) have questioned the validity of the two-nation theory itself. These arguments have ranged from offering the presence of a significant number of Muslims in India to the subsequent dismemberment of East Pakistan in 1971 to the ethnic unrest in Pakistan as evidentiary basis to the economic and political depression of the Muslim community in India that the notion of 'Muslim nationalism' was, at best, undesirable, and, at (its most realistic) worst, inaccurate and even nonsensical. The primary weakness of these assertions remains that they conceptualize the 'two- 88 nation theory' in static terms whereby it is conflated as a representational ideology. As is the case with the extant literature on India-Pakistan relations, this works only so far as the stereotypes or cause-effect relationships identified a priori match the outcome at hand. What I wager here is markedly different.

August 1947 marked the emergence of the two nation states of Pakistan and India. This date also marks the moment when new national identities congealed. It was the discourse around this idea, as summarized earlier in this chapter, that boundaries began to be drawn between

'lndian-ness' and 'Pakistani-iness'.

Accordingly, in this dissertation project, I am not concerned with whether or not the two­ nation theory was an accurate reflection of realities of a specific narration of 'India' or 'Pakistan'.

Although I refrain from commenting on the accuracy or inaccuracy of particular claims of 'India' or

'Pakistan' in the transcendental sense since that would be methodologically inconsistent with this project, I have incorporated these charges in the empirical discussion in the event and to the extent that participants articulated such concerns to help shed light on specific articulations in which 'self' and 'other' are bound as distinct. In this respect, I study the two-nation theory from the vantage point where I conceptualize it as part of the ethical calculation in which actors continue to make sense of 'India', 'Pakistan', and 'India-Pakistan relations.' CHAPTER4

THE OTHER WITHIN I: ARTICULATING 'PAKISTAN'

This chapter explores the ethical imaginary of 'Pakistan' in order to begin to tease out the implications for 'India-Pakistan relations' of the ways in which being 'Pakistani' is narrated'. I turn to first-hand, open-ended interviews with the Muhajir community in Pakistan. As a liminar population that is seen as an 'other within' and, hence, intimately connected to the 'other' that is

'India', this site is particularly fertile with respect to understanding the ways in which the 'Pakistani self' perceives the 'Indian other' and the ethical strategies out of which these imaginings are crafted. That Muhajirs are seen as intimately connected to the 'other', places this community in a unique position to explore, first-hand, the ways in which lines between 'self' and 'other' are literally inscribed through their very being; the same logic forms the basis of the next chapter which seeks to explore the emergence of the Pakistani 'other' in the Indian national imaginary through interviews with the liminar population of Indian Muslims. As established in the methodological discussion, locating the ethics of actorhood allows us to grasp the causal configuration that birthed a political order in a given space-time particularity. Accordingly, the interviews, on which the analysis contained herein is based, focus on the social claims the participants made that revolved around their reactions to underlying notions of not being considered 'authentically Pakistani/Indian' (as the case may be).

This chapter proceeds as follows. First, before delving into the interviews themselves, I provide a brief history of the Muhajirs in Pakistan. The second section provides an extended discussion of the bounding practices that shape the discourse of 'Pakistan' or being 'Pakistani'. I conclude with a. recap of the claims that make up the ethical imaginary in which Pakistan's

89 90 national identity has been articulated to understand the implications of these articulations for the relationship shared by India and Pakistan.

A Brief History Of The Muhajir Experience In Pakistan

The term Muhajir is used to refer to Urdu-speaking individuals who migrated from India in or around 1947 (even as late as the 1960s when Indian and Pakistani citizens could visit each others' countries relatively freely without having to apply for visas) or whose ancestors did.

Additionally, individuals who first migrated from Gujrat and Bombay to East Bengal in 1947 and then escaped to West Pakistan around the time of the 1971 India-Pakistan War after which

Bangladesh emerged as an independent nation following its dismemberment from the nation- state of Pakistan are also classified as Muhajirs. Although a significant number of immigrants from Indian Punjab came over to the Pakistani side at the time of independence, they are not

1 popularly categorized as Muhajirs and are known instead as Punjabis .

The use of the term Muhajirs is of great significance in terms of Islamic history. It was first used to describe the followers of Prophet Mohammad who migrated with him from Medina to

Mecca to escape religious persecution and continue spreading Islam. Similarly, the Muhajirs who moved to Pakistan from India (primarily northern and western India) in 1947 and after considered themselves the 'founding fathers' of a 'Muslim nation-state' who had performed a hijrat (migration) much like the Prophet and his followers did in the name of Islam.

The influx of Muhajirs from India to Pakistan was focused primarily on Karachi and

Hyderabad. Karachi was the federal capital at the time and held more opportunities for educated, urban individuals migrating from Bombay, Hyderabad, Bihar, Delhi, and Uttar Pradesh.

Additionally, the majority of Hindus had left Pakistan for India which translated into the availability of existing housing which the government had decided to award to refugees pouring in from India

1 Interestingly enough, I noticed over the course of my field research that second­ generation and third-generation Kashmiris who settled primarily in Lahore and Faisalabad have begun to insist that they too be identified as Muhajirs rather than as Punjabis. 91 as a compensation for leaving behind their property in India to take up Pakistan as their home

(Verkaaik 1994, 34). Ansari argues that in this transpired:

one of [the] more avoidable long-term legacies [of the aftermath of partition/independence in 1947 i.e.] ... the creation of circumstances in which ethnic tension has been the hallmark of the relationship between the original population of the region and the newcomers. (1995, 98)

Although initially welcomed with open arms in Sind, the province where the majority of Muhajirs settled, hostility and competition soon developed. Following an influx of refugees, the population of Karachi jumped from 350,000 in 1941 to 1, 119, 598 in 1961 (Ansari 2005). Punjab too saw a massive influx of refugees, particularly after August 17, 194 7 when the boundaries of India and

Pakistan were announced and the province saw itself cut in half. Although in recent years, the clash between Muhajirs and an overwhelmingly Punjabi government has created an ethnic divide on that front, the Sindhi-Muhajir confrontation remains more entrenched given its longer history despite the fact that of all Muhajirs who migrated from India, about three-quarters were Punjabis who settled in Punjab in Pakistan (Talbot 1998, 109). There are two reasons for this. What was different in the Punjabi context was that the 'Muhajirs' were coming in from what was now Indian

Punjab. Not only were they Punjabi-speaking but a majority of them were also of Punjabi heritage. This meant that they could be assimilated easily within the local culture. The Muhajirs in

Sindh, on the other hand, were Urdu-speaking with their own distinct culture and customs none of which overlapped with Sindhi identity, languages, rituals, etc. What compounded the problem was that the Muhajirs, who were more educated than the local Sindhi Muslims, saw economic progress rather quickly and also came to occupy critical civil service positions and political offices all of which led to increasing resentment amongst the latter who felt like they had been robbed of what was rightfully theirs (Verkaaik 1994, 35). This contributed to a hardening of us/them boundaries in Sindh between the Muhajirs and the Sindhis. The Sindhis began to feel that they were not only being held back in term of education, employment, and political power but had lost their land and their cultural identity was eroding (Verkaaik 1994, 150). For the Sindhis, they had 92 traded in old Hindu masters for Muslim ones (Ansari 1995, 155). From here, the leap to equating the Muhajirs with 'India' came rather easily.

The Muhajirs were not oblivious to these developments and felt increasingly like they were perceived as 'aliens' when they had made the most sacrifices during the freedom movement for the Pakistan cause and when they left all they had to come to Pakistan (Ansari 2005; Verkaaik

1994).

In the 1960s, the Pakistani political scene began to change and Muhajirs gradually saw a decline in their economic and political power. Once the capital was shifted to Islamabad and martial law was instituted, the reins of control went from Muhajir hands to Punjabi ones (Talbot

1998, 236). The 1970s cemented the erosion of the Muhajir's position in Pakistan after Zulfiqar Ali

Bhutto came into power and instituted policies that were clearly pro-Sindhi. More notably,

Bhutto's decision to declare Sindhi as the official language of Sindh after the passing of the language bill in 1972 meant that the Muhajirs were effectively ousted from the arenas in which they had made significant gains (Malik 1995). The introduction of provincial quotas in colleges and bureaucratic positions at the federal and provincial levels exacerbated the problem even further (Haq 1995).

Frustrated and alienated, an independent political party emerged to represent the

Muhajirs in 1984. This was the Muhajir Oaumi Movement (MOM) whose name has since been amended to Muttahida Oaumi Movement (MOM). It was around this time that the Sindhi-Muhajir clash came to a head and the twin cities of Karachi and Hyderabad saw unprecedented violence in which Sindhis (primarily, workers of the PPP - Pakistan Peoples' Party) and Muhajirs confronted each other routinely resulting in mass killings, strikes, curfews and an overall degeneration of the law and order situation. Having personally experienced these riots, I recall that this was one of the first times that violence spread throughout the city instead of being confined to certain areas. An "Indian" hand was blamed in all of this as targeting the unity of

Pakistan. These clashes worsened as the PPP came into power with Benazir Bhutto as Prime 93

Minister. Nawaz Sharif's tenure as Prime Minister and that of the intermittent provisional governments as Pakistani democracy struggled to come into its own saw a decrease in these confrontations. Nonetheless, the problem never really subsided completely.

In April 1994, MOM protestors were fired upon by the PPP in Karachi despite the presence of the Army which retreated completely from the battleground. I personally remember these riots in the wake of which the violence in Karachi and Hyderabad registered an increase of monumental proportions. Factions split up the MOM itself so that two parties emerged out of one

- the Altaf Hussain faction and that of Afaq Ahmed. Sectarian violence entered the mix as

Karachi went from being the "city where the lights never went out" to a graveyard. Recognizing that this was a national problem, the federal government continued to insist that the activities of the MOM were being sponsored by India to spread terror and lawlessness within Pakistan to destabilize the state.

In this vein, the 1980s -1990s represent a decade in which the Muhajir came to be viewed rather publicly as synonymous with 'India'. Not just India but an India that Pakistan must consider its enemy.

Events like an accident in which a Muhajir girl was murdered by a Pathan driver in 1985 and the rape of a Muhajir girl by PPP activists in 1995 were termed by Muhajirs as acts of aggression committed against them and ended up in an endless spiral of killing between Sindhis,

Muhajirs, Pathans, and Punjabis. That the Punjabis, Pathans, Sindhis, and Baluchis all laid claim to being 'of Pakistani soil' with the only aliens being 'Muhajirs' who came from India, the former were seen as part of an alliance. Punjabi-speaking Muhajirs were exempt from this violence since the common perception was that they were actually Pakistani and it was only due to the whims of

Radcliffe and Mountbatten not to mention the evil manipulation of Nehru that a part of the Punjabi province was allocated to India in 1947. What this situation combined then contributed to was the exacerbation of an already horrific situation in which violence became part of everyday life in

Karachi and Hyderabad. The government intervened at this time to restore normalcy. The PPP, 94 however, refused to negotiate with what it referred to as a "terrorist organization" (Talbot 1998,

342-343). However, the two parties had to come to the table upon the insistence of the Army and the President after the assassination of staff members at the American Consulate in Karachi

(Talbot 1998, 343).

Although the dialog instituted then did not make much progress, the violence diminished. Altaf Hussain, leader of the MOM, continues to run the party in exile from London. In

2007-8, with the return of the PPP to power, the confrontation has begun to pick up of late as violence in Karachi has been on the rise.

It must be noted here that while the MOM sought to represent all Muhajirs, its tactics

~md strategies have led to decreased support amongst the Muhajir community. In fact, a huge percentage of Muhajirs do not want to identify themselves as Muhajirs for two reasons: a) primarily to insist upon their 'Pakistani' identity as compared to what are perceived as their

'Indian' roots; and b) to distance themselves from a much maligned political party that has been considered responsible for the financial/economic and social ruin of Karachi. That the MOM continues to win provincial elections ought not to be taken at face value as indicative of popular support for their agenda and party. Instead, what ought to be taken into account that the MOM, as a grass-roots organization, has a huge base of party workers who often go door to door at election time and take voters to the polls holding them at gun-point and/or threatening them for their lives or the lives of their loved ones in the event that they do not vote for the MOM candidate.

In the next section, I present excerpts and my analysis of first-hand interviews2 with a

3 total of 11 Muhajir participants whom I had the opportunity to have extended conversations with .

2 I encouraged participants to assign pseudonyms to themselves for me to use in the writing of the dissertation. Real names have been used only when participants insisted upon doing so. In the latter case, the individuals are publicly well-known figures - either public officials, political commentators, authors/writers, or celebrities - who insisted upon being able to retain their identity in print for personal and/or professional reasons. 3 Where relevant, I make references to other participants in addition to the 11 whose conversations are analyzed here in-depth. 95

Some of these interviews have been conducted with individuals who are first-generation Muhajirs i.e. those who witnessed the event of partition/independence in 1947 and migrated to Pakistan at or around that time. Other$ have been conducted with second- or third- generation Muhajirs.

Despite the fact that they were born in Pakistan, this group of people, given their ancestry, continues to be defined as 'Muhajirs' within Pakistan. This, more so, following the riots between

Muhajirs and Pathans in the 1980s.

The discussion that follows has been divided thematically into subsections that focus on the different ethical concerns identified by the participants by which I mean the varied considerations that have been deployed in specific ways thus rendering the narrative of

'Pakistani-ness' meaning-full accordingly. You will notice that while the phrase 'two-nation theory' does not come up explicitly, the same rationale that justified the distinctness of Hindus and

Muslims in British India are reconfigured and deployed in the articulation of 'Pakistan' and its relationship with 'India'.

Bounding 'Pakistan': The Muhajir Experience

The Muhajir's identity, as neither completely Pakistani nor Indian, places him/her on the margins from which to explore the multiple ways in which 'Pakistani-ness' has been established as distinct from 'India'. The following appeals are pivotal in this bounding of the Pakistani ethical imaginary: birth, language, and freedom. This section explores each of these considerations in turn. Although the conversations themselves are focused on the authenticity or, as the case may be, inauthenticity, of being 'Pakistani', these conversations provide insights into the ethical considerations deployed in 'othering' the 'Indian' from the 'Pakistani self' since the Muhajir is perceived as the 'Indian other within'. This discussion then provides insights into the kinds of narratives of self-other relations that are afforded by the articulations in which the authenticity of being Pakistani is established. 96

Partition Discourse: The Religious Nationalism of 'Pakistaniat'4

Pakistan, as an independent nation, was a response formulated out of the two-nation theory that stipulated the problems of coexistence of Hindus and Muslims on the basis that these two communities differed in the very fundamentals of their ways of life and basic values. This notion continues to be pivotal, in an ethical sense, in shaping Pakistani identity juxtaposed against an Indian 'other' even in present-day Pakistan as became evident in my interviews with those who had witnessed 1947 and the freedom struggle first-hand. That Pakistaniat - the notion of a Pakistani identity - had been erected on the very basis of the distinctness of a Muslim civilization and identity from a Hindu one this comes as no surprise. Although I have explored the history of this distinction in the previous chapter, it is worth revisiting from the vantage point of those who migrated from India to gain access to the ways in which the 'othering' of 'Hindu India' finds legitimacy in the Pakistani national imaginary. It is to this very aspect that this sub-section pays attention.

As we talked about his experience of partition, Lt-Gen (Retd.) Kamal Matinuddin reminisced at length about his college days in Lucknow, Uttar Pradesh (UP), India. This is what he had to say on the subject of the multitude of ways in which lines were drawn between 'self' and 'other' even in the mundane everydayness of college life:

We have lived in that environment and that atmosphere where I come from - Lucknow in UP. So I have seen physically the animosity and difference between the two. Having studied in schools there. We have seen what happened between Muslims and Hindus.

It all began I think in 1935 when the Hindus formed their governments in a few parcels in UP where I come from. They [the Hindus] began a movement of reconverting Muslims into Hindus. They also introduced Hindi as the language. See Urdu was part of Muslim culture and Persian was our language for a long time. And then we of coursed moved on to Urdu. But when the Hindu government was formed in UP, the Indian Congress changed the language to Hindi and we began to learn it of course.

They also began singing Vande Mataram which is a very anti-Muslim song. They introduced it in the schools and colleges. They also put in a photograph of Gandhi in some of the schools where you had to go early in the morning and salute to it.

4 This Urdu word is used frequently in Pakistan to refer to 'being Pakistani'; in that sense it can be seen as the Urdu counterpart of the word 'Pakistani-ness'. 97

So all of that was not liked by the Muslims and they objected to it. At that point, the animosity between the two kept,on increasing.

There was of course even isolation between Hindus and Muslims in daily life. We couldn't go into their kitchen - their rasoi. We couldn't drink water with them - there was Muslim paani [water] and Hindu paani in public places. So there was even a difference between water. And of course in many ways. They were very different from us.

In college, I wasn't a party leader but I was active. I used to raise slogans "Ban Ke Rahe 5 Ga Pakistan, Bat Ke Rahe Ga Hindustan" . Also "Chuttiya Raj Nahin Ho Ga" - the braid that the pundits have. Even "Dhotiya Raj 6Nahin Ho Ga". In this part of the world, dhoti is what we call tehmat. To us a dhoti is the one that Hindus wear that is tied at the back. In Lucknow, in UP, that was a dhoti. So we used to shout there "Dhotiya Raj Nahin Ho Ga; Chutiya Raj Nahin Ho Ga".

When I was in Lucknow University in 1946, someone went and put up a Congress flag on the university. We Muslims felt that was not right so we went and got hold of a pole - larger, bigger, and sturdier than the Indian one and we put the Muslim League flag. It was fluttering a little higher than the Congress flag. And a few days later we found that the Congress flag was higher than the Muslim League flag. So we raised ours higher. So that rivalry kept going on in 1946. Then someone had the bright idea to take both flags down and in their place we saw the flag of what we called the India- Coffee House! That was a coffee house in Lucknow. It has its own flag with a cup of coffee and that said, "eat, drink, and be merry!" And that flag continued flying for quite some time.

It seems trivial but you can see even at that level between students 19-20 years of age there was this Hindu-Muslim rivalry. (2005; bold emphasis added)

Lieutenant-General (Retd.) Matinuddin's recollection of his college years reveals a world that was very much shaped by the contours of the political confrontation between the Congress and the

Muslim League. If the former maintained that India was a rainbow of many colors and hues, the latter insisted upon the distinctness of the Muslim and the Hindu. This was a distinctness, argued proponents of the two-nation theory, that necessitated political autonomy of the Muslims in India.

The dividing line between Hindus and Muslims in British India is also visible in Rashida's rather emotionally charged recollection of the decision made by her family to migrate to Pakistan in 1947 (2004). She captured her experiences and thoughts on the rationale for partition in vivid detail during the course of our conversation during which she insisted upon the logical necessity

5 Translated as: Pakistan Will Be Made; India Will Be Divided.

6 Dhotiya refers to dhoti which is a rectangular shaped cloth more commonly worn by men (although Punjabi women wear a variation of it), about 7-8 yards in length, that is wrapped around the legs and knotted at the waist. The placement of the knot varies between Hindus and Muslims and, consequently, in India and Pakistan. 98 of the rationale contained in the two-nation theory where independence from a Hindu India was deemed necessary to the survival of the Muslims of India following the end of the British Raj:

Luckily we came by ship and not train or today I wouldn't be sitting here talking to you. Those bastards killed all the Muslims in their madness - they were furious because they thought we had taken their land. They hated us but pretended to love us. We all knew it. Mr. Jinnah and his colleagues has the courage to voice what we all felt before any of us could say it. Yes I was friendly with the Hindus. My husband was a commerce lawyer so perhaps they were friendlier with us because they needed him professionally or they didn't show any anger or resentment towards us initially. But all of this was superficial. You tell me if there had been no hatred on their part why would we have felt the need to fight for another country? Why would they have felt the need to take revenge for taking their land - if they loved us and considered us one of them the question of taking what was theirs would have never risen. It was ours. But we carved a separate space for us because survival was impossible with the Hindus who detested our very being or those Jamaatis - you know those fundamental, crazy thugs parading as Mullahs [religious leader] today - who didn't want Pakistan and who would have shoved some overly-religious life down our throats. They think they're Muslims - ha! They're just like the Hindus we left behind in India. Either way, what annoys me is that those Hindus, those Indians don't want us to live in peace. Pakistan is not what we stole from them. It was rightfully ours. But they're nuts. They want their land back - what they call their BharatMata ... you know - Mother India. Well they can't have what isn't theirs. They can try to kill us, to hurt us ... that's their prerogative. (Rashida 2004; bold emphasis added)

From Rashida's perspective, the fight was started by Hindus and continues to be waged by an

India unable to come to terms with neighboring Pakistan. In this vein, it becomes apparent that if the division between Hindus and Muslims was warranted then the two-nation theory out of which

Pakistan was born is very much alive and kicking in the narration of the Indian 'other' by the

Pakistani 'self'. In Rashida's recollection of her experiences at the time of the freedom movement and migration, what comes alive is the the ethical imaginary of the.two-nation theory commonplace in her discrediting of the Indian argument that Pakistan stole Indian land thereby violating the sanctity of that which was considered 'Bharatmata'arguing that it was as much theirs to claim. For Rashida, "cannot have what wasn't theirs" which seems to hearken back to the

Muslim League's claim that Pakistan was constituted by those states in which there was a Muslim majority. Therefore, these areas were rightfully Pakistan's in that it was always meant to be a nation-state for the Muslims of India. 99

Since she seemed to emphasize 'land' I asked Rashida if the conflict between the two nuclear rivals was primarily about conflicting claims to a 'territory' that both consider rightfully theirs. This is what she had to say:

I don't think it's really about land. If that was the case, India took many states and cities that were ours. That Lord Mountbatten didn't like Jinnah so he made sure Pakistan got the short-end of the stick. And then they used that to make it sound like Jinnah was a power-hungry manipulative politician because he would have taken what they called a "moth-eaten Pakistan". That certainly wasn't the case. I know it. All of us who fought for Pakistan knew it. Jinnah's back was against the wall. You take what you can get in that situation.

Land seems like a good excuse to give to the world. The whole world gives it. If it was about land then Pakistan would be the one attacking India - not only because of Kashmir but think about Hyderabad and Junagadh. Okay those were all princely states but think about West Bengal. You say a piece of land is yours and it's okay to invade a country to get it back. But why would you want to invade it? For the same reason my neighbor wanted nothing to do with me - hatred. If you hate someone you want to see them suffer, you want to see them in pain.

Hindutva: that describes our relationship with India in one word.

The Hindus hate us plain and simple. All of their hate is targeted against us - anti­ Muslim hatred. So sometimes they fight about land - the soil they say is theirs. Sometimes they ca.II us terrorists. Sometimes they fake friendship but they have an ulterior motive. Think about it - if someone cannot even drink water out of the same glass as you even if it's washed - [that person] has no love lost for you. We're different and we can't live together. Even when we no longer live together as one nation, we can't live together. Perhaps Quaid-e-Azam knew that too - that's why he urged us to try and get along. In his first speech, he talked about Hindus and Muslims getting along inside Pakistan. One can think about it as a plea for Hindu India and Muslim Pakistan to get along on the same principles. But it's futile. If it was about land, then India would have accepted Musharraf's Kashmir proposals by now because those are in their favor. We've compromised but they are unwilling. The Quaid also said this in his Reuters interview - in October when Karachi and Punjab and Kashmir were burning. Why? Because they hate us? Do they always hate us? Probably not. Or sometimes they can hide it. Sometimes we can get along but there is always a spark waiting to go off. (2004; bold emphasis added)

Rashida doesn't see the contentiousness of the India-Pakistan equation as a battle about land or anything else to which politic?I pundits and scholars have pointed overwhelmingly. However, unlike the other participants whose interviews have been presented in this section, she very consciously narrates it as a consequence of meaning-making. What she turns to in order to make sense of what the conflict is about is the basic rationale proffered by the two-nation theory. 100

Here the need for Muslim autonomy, according to Rashida, is a response to the fact that "Hindus hate us [the Muslims] plain and simple". Her reference to the "Hindutva" movement here is telling - its anti-Muslim sentiments combined with her references to the ideas contained in the two-nation theory point us to a narrative in which Pakistan wasn't just a choice the Muslims made but the only choice they could have made. This inevitability is something that Quaid-e-

Azam spoke of in his first official address as President of the Constituent Assembly of Pakistan on August 11, 1947:

I know there are people who do not quite agree with the division of India and the partition of the Punjab and Bengal. Much has been said against it. But now that it has been accepted, it is the duty of everyone of us to loyally abide by it and honourably act according to the agreement which is now final and binding on all. But you must remember, as I have said, that this mighty revolution that has taken place is unprecedented. One can quite understand the feeling that exists between the two communities wherever one community is in majority and the other is in minority. But the question is, whether it was possible or practicable to act otherwise than what has been done. A division had to take place. On both sides, in Hindustan and Pakistan, there are sections of people who may not agree with it, who many not like it, but in my judgment there was no other solution and I am sure future history will record its verdict in favour of it. ... Any idea of a united India could never have worked and in my judgement it would have led us to terrific disaster. (2000, 27)

Unfortunately, from Rashida's perspective, territorial redistribution and political autonomy didn't quite end the fight as Jinnah and his fellow freedom fighters might have hoped. As she points out,

India and Pakistan·continue to share a contentious relationship primarily because of the hatred that a Hindu India feels for a Muslim Pakistan. To her, that a Hindu isn't willing to drink from the same glass that a Muslim might have used isn't merely about accepting religious sensibilities but a personal affront. For Rashida, this exemplifies a consciousness of difference so ingrained that it renders any and all attempts to bring about peace "futile". Not because Pakistan doesn't want to but because India is blinded by its "anti-Muslim hatred".

Other participants I interviewed also drew on the logic of the two-nation theory to make sense of India-Pakistan relations in terms of their past, present, as well as future. The narrative flow of this discussion is clearly visible in my conversation with TC - a Pakistani businessman who grew up in Bombay (now Mumbai) and migrated to Pakistan in 1964 just months before the 101

1965 India-Pakistan war. He visits India frequently not only because of family ties but for work which, as he mentioned during our conversation, affords him repeated opportunities to reflect on these very issues as a direct consequence of his travels. TC has also worked in Bombay in his family business (automobile distribution) from April 1960 through February 1964 - a fairly large operation that employed about 5,000-6,000 people spread out primarily in major city centers of

Western India including Mumbai, Pune, Rajkot, Ahmedabad, and Nagpur. At the time that he joined this business, TC's family had more or less decided to wind up operations because of the discrimination they faced in India, particularly by the government, on account of the fact they were

Muslims which was further compounded because they had family allegiances across the border in Pakistan since some of their relatives had already migrated in or shortly after 1947. As he explains in the excerpt below:

It became clear to them - the elders of the family [who had established the business] - that the government had begun to exert pressure on all sorts of levels. Morarji Desai7 personally told my father that "you can't keep one foot in each camp." He was referring to the fact that half the family had moved to Pakistan and the other half remained in India.

And there was a definite unofficial embargo on government business being received by the company. It was a combination of everything - that we were Muslims and that part of our family had moved to Pakistan.

It then became reasonably clear to me that, as a Muslim, if I went out and started looking for a job [which is what TC would have had to do considering that the family business was in the process of closing shop as it were] that I would be at a very big disadvantage. (2006; bold emphasis added)

TC's story of his life in post-1947 India echoes an in-the-flesh experience of precisely what the proponents of the two-nation theory who also fought for an independent nation state of

Pakistan feared had argued. That in a Hindu dominated India the Muslim was not welcome and faced obstacles at every step of the way. Why? Only because Hindus and Muslims belonged to

7 Morarji Desai was an independence activist in India who left the British civil service and joined the civil disobedience movement against the British Raj in the 1930s. Desai became the home minister for Bombay (now Mumbai) prior to independence and took office as Chief Minister of Bombay in 1952. He served as from 1977-1979 and was the first individual to hold this office who was not affiliated with the Indian National Congress. It is worth mentioning here that Desai was awarded one of the highest civilian awards in both India and Pakistan - the Bharat Ratna and the Nishaan-e-Pakistan respectively - to honor his contributions as a statesman. 102 two distinct civilizations whose social and cultural practices and beliefs were so poles apart that they were condemned to remain at loggerheads. Although from this narration it is not obvious that

TC knows for a fact that the reason why their family business received fewer government contracts with the passage' of time and, as he revealed later in the course of our conversation, faced increasing obstacles in terms of obtaining the necessary permits and renewal of licenses to continue smooth operations, it is significant that he reads this as an instance of being held back as a Muslim. That part of their family had migrated to Pakistan exacerbates the matter. It's one thing for a Muslim to be suspected as less-Indian because by virtue of being of that faiths/he is considered to have, at the very least, a soft spot for a Muslim/Islamic Pakistan; it is totally another thing to have that suspicion confirmed because one actually has family across the border. During the course of my field research, I came across several individuals in both Pakistan and India who have often been interrogated by legal authorities if they have relatives across the border. That

Indian visitors to Pakistan and Pakistani visitors to India are required to report their exit and entry to police headquarters makes it particularly easy to identify who has "connections" with the

'Indian/Pakistani other'. It is worth noting the story of a Hindu gentleman who labeled himself as

"Toba Tek Singh"8 pseudonymously. I spoke with Toba Tek Singh informally in Karachi during a pre-field research visit in the winter of 2003 days after his return to Pakistan after being deported to India (2003a; 2003b; 2003c). I came across him as a result of teaching his kids English in a local tutoring center where I often volunteer when I visit Karachi. Singh moved to Pakistan shortly

8 The pseudonym that this gentleman chose is significant in so far that it is the namesake of the protagonist of a short story authored by Pakistani writer, Sadat Hasan Manto, describing the madness of partition. Toba Tek Singh is the name of a city near the India-Pakistan border in Pakistani Punjab. It is also the name of one of the most famous short stories of the set of literature written about partition/independence commonly referred to as partition literature. The majority of these works are characterized by a lamentation of the divisiveness of this event as experienced through ordinary characters - the common man on the street if you will. The protagonist, who is referred to as Toba Tek Singh, is an inmate in an asylum being transferred to Pakistan from India at the time of partition/independence. Throughout the story we see him fretting about the question of whether his hometown was now in Pakistan or India following the partition or "batwara" as Manto refers to it in Urdu. The character dies while being transferred in a zone between the two countries that is incidentally no-mans land. Manto wrote this story as a satire on the event of partition in an attempt to point out what he saw was the senselessness of the divide. 103 before the 1971 war between these two rivals since his wife was from Karachi and running a particularly successful beauty salon for a while. They figured it made more sense for them to continue living in Pakistan. Following the 1999 war between India and Pakistan in Kargil, he was interrogated several times and eventually deported to India - a country he had not so much as visited for almost 15 years. That he was a Hindu was automatically taken to mean that he was an

Indian spy. Such paranoia is well-documented on both sides of the border. Stories of deportation and imprisonment represent an extreme manifestation of such feelings but it also makes its presence felt in everyday life in relatively mundane ways whenever it functions as part of the moral-practical calculation that actors make in their interactions with an individual who is perceived as an 'other'. TC went through a similar experience where faith/religiosity is deployed in ways where the 'ot~er' only figures as 'enemy' or, at the very least, someone to be suspicious of because of his/her perceived connection with the 'loathed other'.

As the interview proceeded, TC began telling me the story of his brother who currently resides in India:

My brother had joined Lipton's in 1958 in England. He came to India in 1959 and worked in Delhi for a few years with Lipton. And then 10 years later moved to Calcutta. And he's lived there ever since. Now you see he's one of the few Muslims who has made it to the top echelons in India amongst the professionals. He worked for Lipton's until 1977 when he left them and joined a company called Duncan as their Export Director and the Director of the Indian Tea Board. He was responsible for a very high percentage of Indian tea sales - of their exports. Duncan's at one point accounted for a total of 14% of India's total tea exports.

But if you look around social life in Calcutta - around club life which is what everything is centered around - then you will only come across 2 Muslims. I'm talking about the early part of the 2000s now because that's when I last went and looked at it. I only came across two Muslims - my brother and a guy called M. Ahmed whose brother [name deleted for privacy] was a well-known civil servant in Pakistan. Ahmed was the head of a Scottish tea company whose name I can't quite remember right now - something about McNeill, something like that.

But you must note that these 2 Muslims came from the employed wing - there was no business aspect over there. 104

You look around this city [speaking of Calcutta] where 20%9 of the population is Muslim. You only see 2 people having hit the top. They're presidents of social committees like dance clubs and tennis clubs and all - they have been for a while. But you see only two people. You didn't see any other Muslims -very few, hardly any who made it.

I remember in the 80s in India even coming across advertisements by the Birla 10 group for jobs [as in employment opportunities] stating that Muslims need not apply. Now for a secular country it emerged even that time 25 years ago. It became clear that we weren't welcome - and I've seen that more so over the years. So I decided to migrate to Pakistan.

My brother didn't feel the pressure that I did. But later he started feeling it too while he was at Lipton. This is why he left a multinational company and joined a purely Indian - I 11 mean Marwari - company. Interesting, no? But at that time he didn't feel what I felt. And when he did he had received a certain amount of acceptance because he had been there for so long that moving to Pakistan didn't seem like a viable option. He [i.e. TC's brother] acknowledged the discrimination but it didn't move him to move as it were (2006; bold emphasis added)

For TC, his brother's succes& in India serves as a reminder of two things: a) that there are exceptions to the rule; and, b) that his brother's experience is an example of exactly that and can, by no means, be judged as the norm. He offers, as proof of anti-Muslim 'sentiment in India along the lines of the ideas contained within the two-nation theory as propounded by Sir Syed Ahmed

Khan then Allama Iqbal and then Jinnah, his personal observations of being Muslim in Calcutta based on his regular visits there along with the example of the Birla group's advertisements in which Muslims were explicitly asked not to apply for available vacancies. He finds something amiss in the fact that while there is a significant population of Muslims living in Calcutta, he has only seen two - his brother and a friend - occupying a prominent place in social circles. This, to

TC, is suggestive of a communal glass ceiling as it were. Elaborating further, TC seems to imply that access to power enjoyed by these two Muslims has more to do with the fact that they were

9 I have not corroborated these figures since it is not their accuracy that is important to the case at hand but the manner in which they are being woven into the narrative.

10 The Birla group is a well-known business/industrialist family based in India with operations spread worldwide. Their holdings are spread across industries such as cement, textiles, chemicals, telecommunications and also in the philanthropy sector.

11 Marwari - meaning "of the desert'' is the word used to refer to people from the area in the central and western regions of in India. Marwaris are known in India for their skill and fame as tradesmen. 105

"employed" in directorial positions in British firms operating out of India. Had they been in "the business wing", like the majority of Muslims in the city, they could hardly expect to wield the same kind of power and enjoy the kind of respect that they do now. This is further evidenced by the fact that a company as huge as the Birla Group made no bones about the fact that it did not want to hire Muslims. All of these facts combined attest to the validity of TC's perspective on the status of

Muslims in India as second-class citizens. They also justify his subsequent decision to move to

Pakistan in 1964. If he, as a Muslim who was viewed by local authorities as having ties to

Pakistan, wanted to make it in life then he would have to migrate to Pakistan. Curiously enough, the rationale TC provides for this decision, which is what we started talking about at the beginning of the interview (see above), oscillates from his experiences in the 1960s while he still lived in

India to his subsequent visits there. It's almost as if he's sharing 20/20 hindsight, except in his case it might have even been 20/20 foresight.

TC's reference to India as a "secular country" was steeped in sarcasm - not only because of the content of his story but also the tone in which he spoke and his facial expressions during my interview with him. With all of these instances of anti-Muslim sentiments, TC echoes doubts similar to those expressed by Muslim Leaguers particularly in response to the ongoing insistence of the validity of Indian secular nationalism by Congress Leaders such as Nehru. What

TC seems to suggest is that if India were truly secular he would not have had to migrate and

Muslims would be occupying more prominent positions in India. That they aren't is proof of the fact that his decision to migrate was sound and, by extension, that it made complete sense that the Muslims had to demand a separate homeland as the freedom movement ran its course in

British India. That his brother also felt the same way he did and finally "acknowledged the discrimination" confirmed the worst fears that inspired the two-nation theory- Muslims had it tough in a Hindu-dominated India.

It was at this juncture that our conversation shifted gears from TC's experience of being

Muslim in India to the particular details of TC's experience of migrating. It is important to note 106 here that around this time, when TC moved to Karachi from Mumbai in 1964, the contentious relationship that India and Pakistan shared has begun to worsen. The two rivals went to war in

April 1965 - just about over a year after TC migrated in 1964. TC's decision to migrate is one that he looks upon rather favorably:

It became clear that we had to leave. So we left for Pakistan. When we came here we had less competition as a community. This is why we made it in Pakistan - because it was made for Muslims. Success was quicker and probably at a more comfortable level than we would have ever had in India. (2006; bold emphasis added)

For TC, his success story is tied with his move to Pakistan. As a Muslim, he could not have made it in India. On the other hand, as the two-nation theory stipulated, the state of

Pakistan was created to safeguard the interests of the Muslims. That promise was fulfilled for TC as he no longer faced discrimination as a Muslim. The narration here is much like the magical appeal that Pakistan held as a land of promise and opportunity for the Muslim community in India.

People migrated because they believed in the rhetoric of the Quaid-e-Azam and Allama Iqbal - that, once in Pakistan, they would find themselves safe, protected, and in positions where no-one would hold them back as they sought to fulfill their dreams and potential. In this schema, secular

India becomes a farce for TC for in "secular India" he worried about finding employment whereas in Pakistan he attained success with relative ease or, to quote him, "quicker'' and "at a more comfortable level".

To the extent that being seen as a 'Muhajir' in Pakistan has been intimately linked with discrimination and violence, TC's experiences can be categorized as different from those of the majority. As an example consider the experiences of another participant, Meher. Meher's husband was killed because he was a Muhajir. Her brother was denied a job in the police force because he is a Muhajir. Her son had trouble getting admission in college because he is a

Muhajir. She, like the rest of her family, continues to encounter difficulties in the daily business of living. The hatred of the PPP, for example, functions as an ominous threat in their lives because they are Hindustani. TC, on the other hand, hailed from the (meaning "khwaja" or noble) community t.hat also had the honor of claiming Quaid-e-Azam Mohammad Ali Jinnah as one of its 107

members probably worked in his favor. The Khoja community, particularly those who are Sunni

Muslims, have traditionally paid significant attention to ensuring that both men and women are

well-educated. This is also why the have done relatively well in both India and Pakistan.

Wealthy or not, they have had the necessary training to prosper. It is also apparent that TC came

with considerable wealth to the country. He also came at a time when post-independence

instability had decreased, even if it hadn't disappeared entirely. Meher's family bore the brunt of

the partition violence. They live in communities and spaces where ethnic unrest pervades. TC, on

the other hand, lives in a posh residential area where ethnic strife has only made its presence felt

in recent months. Even then it's the invasion of those who are "outsiders" coming from other

areas as opposed to neighbors. In Meher's case, the person next door is potentially an enemy.

The point I'm trying to make here is not that 'categories' matter but meaning-making matters. A

consideration of these processes as part of the politics of the Muhajir identity itself is beyond the

scope of this study. However, it is critical to remember that there is nothing inherent about any

identity, like that of being a Muhajir, which translates into an experience that is homogenous

across space and time. It is the social network of ties in which actors happen to find themselves

and the resources on which these actors draw that literally make the difference between what

being Muhajir means in a spatio-temporal context. This becomes apparent when we place Meher

and TC side by side.

To return to TC's narrative, at this point he seemed eager to reflect on the state of

Muslims in India, particularly on the inevitability of the religious divide that shapes both Hindu-

Muslim relations in India as well as the equation shared by Pakistan and India:

So, this is how our story goes. If we think about it the Muslims in India face an uphill task. Those are my friends. Don't forget I went to school there so I have a good bunch of school friends there. And honestly, I mean I don't think of them as Hindus or Parsees or Muslims. You know I grew up with them from the age of 5 onwards. You know what I'm saying? But on one of my trips - and I go there 2 or 3 times a year - there was tension in the room. It was a tough time. I think Bal Thackeray12 was up to his usual tricks in Bombay. And there was a little tension which I found very unusual.

12 Bal Thackeray is a prominent politician on the Indian national scene. He is the founder and chief of the Shiv Sena which is a Hindu nationalist party that has been particularly 108

[I probed TC further for details at this point]

Somebody in the room said something about there not being all 'friends' in the room. And it got a little hairy. But then all of a sudden everybody sort of worked around it very quickly and we put it behind us because we were all friends. And you can't be friends for 50 years and not be able to smooth out any rough edges, you know?

But the fact that it emerged is surprising in and of itself.

So basically I think India is not as secular as the leaders of India would like to believe it is. (2006; bold emphasis added)

Although TC didn't provide a date as to when the incident he describes above occurred, he shared other temporal markers later in the interview that clarified that he was talking about the late 1990s. This time is significant in the context of Bombay - which is where TC has been visiting with his school friends - for it was right around when communal violence was at an all- time high in the city in the wake of growing Hindu fundamentalism and the emergence of right- wing Hindu parties as the political leadership of the nation. Bomb blasts, rioting, carnage became rather routine as Muslims were targeted by right-wing Hindu organizations. The spiral of violence continued as Muslims responded in kind. This changed the entire atmosphere of the city. It is also worth mentioning here that The Indian government also placed the blame on Pakistani terrorists for the death and destruction in Mumbai and elsewhere in the country during that time. The

Pakistani authorities denied charges of state-sponsored terrorism levied against them by India

active in the western Indian state of of which Mumbai is a part. When the Shiv Sena was founded, it focused primarily on protecting jobs for local Maharashtrans in the wake of a large influx of South Indian immigrants. However, its focus later turned to the Hindutva movement 1 whose origins can be traced back to the writings of Veer Savarkar in the early 20 h century. The Hindutva movement, in recent years during its rise, has focused its energies on Hindu revivalism. It takes all Indians to be Hindus, in principle, and has undertaken various measures to remove Muslim, Christian, and British influences within India. Most notably, the Hindutva movement has been actively engaged in revisionist history projects with the purpose of projecting a narrative in which Muslims have been conceptualized as invaders who deprived the Hindus of their own rights thereby rendering it imperative that they be ghettoized and/or reconverted from Islam back to the Hindu faith as payback for the centuries in which they have taken what has rightfully belonged to the Hindus (Thapar 2002, 290). Thackeray's notoriety stems from, among other things, his admiration for Adolf Hitler, his pronounced anti-Muslim stance including campaigns of organized violence against this community, and, lastly, his commitment towards an explicitly Hindu Hindustan. 109 and responded by reminding Indian officials that it was their state that was to blame for fueling ethnic unrest in the province of Sindh in Pakistan since the mid-1980s.

The interaction TC describes is one that is rather typical of exchanges between Indians and Pakistanis as I have not only been told during the course of my fieldwork but have also observed and experienced while growing up in Pakistan and during my time in America. Although friendships are easily forged, during politically charged times it isn't unprecedented for the politics of India and Pakistan to become part of the conversation whereby those belonging to these countries often fault their Pakistani/Indian counterparts in the same way that the political leadership does at press conferences.

More specifically, TC draws on two historically relevant events/occurrences as he narrates this incident. First, in post-independence India, Muslims often blamed Pakistanis for deserting them. The latter were perceived as traitors who had violated the sanctity of BharatMata and betrayed their Muslims friends and neighbors (Jalal 2000; Mujeeb 2001; Talbot 2005). This claim has been deployed time and again in Indian political discourse. During the time of partition, this rhetoric was also fairly well pronounced as lines became drawn between Muslims who supported "Indian nationalist" in favor of a secular, united India versus those who were whipping up fissures through their brand of "communalist politics" (Hasan 2001; Krishna 1992).

Exemplifying the former was Maulana Abul Kalam Azad during the Presidential Address he delivered at the 53rd session of the Indian National Congress in March 1940:

As a Musalman I have a special interest in Islamic religion and culture and I cannot tolerate any interference with them. But in addition to these sentiments, I have others also which the realities and conditions of my life have forced upon me. The spirit of Islam does not come in the way of these sentiments. I am proud of being an Indian. I am a part of the indivisible unity that is Indian nationality. I am indispensable to this noble edifice and without me this splendid structure of India is incomplete. I am an essential element that has gone to build India. I can never surrender this claim. (1940, 66-67; bold emphasis added)

On the other hand, those who opted for Pakistan became ingrained in the Indian national imaginary as the latter i.e. drawing on communalist ideas that had no place, whatsoever, in the logic and rationale defining nationhood (Hasan 2001 ). The fact that TC is referred to by his 110

Indian friend as the only one in the room who isn't a "friend" loops back to the same discursive claims. Second, his claim that "Indian is not as secular as its leaders would like to believe it is" also echoes the sentiments of Muslim Leaguers in the 1930s and 1940s as they sought to dispel the Congress' claims that it was the sole spokesperson for Indian nationalism. They continued to raise the relevance of the two-nation theory.

This argument is best echoed in Jinnah's address in 1940 to the Muslim League that was subsequently dubbed as the Pakistan Resolution. Commenting on an article in the London

Times that dismissed Hindu-Muslim differences as superstitious beliefs that will die out over time leading to a united India, Jinnah responded:

It is extremely difficult to appreciate why our Hindu friends fail to understand the true nature of Islam and Hinduism. They are not religions in the strict sense of the word, but are, in fact, different and distinct social orders. It is a dream that Hindus and Muslims can ever evolve into a common nationality, and this misconception ... is the cause of most of our troubles, and will lead India to destruction, if we fail to revise our notions in time. The Hindus and the Muslims belong to two different religious philosophies, social customs, and literature. They neither intermarry, nc::>r interdine together, and indeed they belong to two different civilizations which are based mainly on conflicting ideas and conceptions. Their aspects on life and of fife are different. ... Very often the hero of one is a foe of the other, and likewise, their victories and defeats overlap. To yoke together two such nations under a single State, one as a numerical minority and the other as a majority, must lead to growing discontent and the final destruction of any fabric that may be so built up for the government of such a State. {1940, 56; bold emphasis added)

According to Jinnah, the coexistence of Hindus and Muslims as one nation-state was nothing but a recipe for "destruction" and disaster since the very essence of their being was diametrically opposed to each other. Here, in Jinnah's rhetoric, we can see appeals to the basic principle of nationalism whereby it is sameness in language, thought, culture, and tradition that form the basis of territorial unity. Lacking those affinities meant that it necessary to separate Hindus and

Muslims of India into two nation-states. Jinnah's words are also intended to highlight that claiming

India as a "secular" space is futile for in the very fact of its occupation by Hindus and Muslims one not only has two religious civilizations living side by side but two entirely "distinct social orders" for whom living in harmony as part of the same political unit is not a realistic option. Similarly, TC's reference to Bal Thackeray, the head of the Shiv Sena and whose anti-Muslim stance combined 111 with an emphasis on restoring the glory of a Hindu India, is a reminder of the communal disturbances that characterized life in Mumbai in the 1990s. This is akin to the disasters that

Jinnah predicted in the event that Hindus and Muslims formed a united political entity. That TC was excluded among a set of friends between whom 'religious divides' had never really been an issue before is also, for him, an example of precisely what Jinnah talked about and the fear that informed the two-nation theory.

As we neared the end of our conversation, I asked TC to share with me what he thought and felt when he had just migrated. This was one of the very few instances in which any of the participants spoke of festivals in a post-1947 order:

You know I found it great. I found it great. Within a few days of my coming here it was Ramzan. Suddenly I saw that people packed up at 2'o'clock. Even people who pretend to be fasting [laughs] observe the sanctity of Ramzan which was something so unusual for us in Bombay because we had a full working day. Over there, if you were fasting then you were fasting. We all had a full day. We had no time to take off. Not that we needed to take time off because the fast would open well after working hours around that time because Ramzan fell in spring/summer back then. But if anybody came to our office - like a Hindu client - we would offer them tea and take them out for lunch._Just like you probably do since you live in the States. So that was really great. It was festive. We connected with what we were supposed to connect with.

I was working in a full Muslim environment for the first time. I found it very nice. What I mean is that you didn't have to worry about any particular aspect in your thought process. You had to worry about it when working in India. Religion was always taboo - something we ignored in the name of secularism but was always there. (2006; bold emphasis added)

TC's recollection of his first Ramzan in Pakistan compared to his experience of fasting in India reasserts what the passage quoted from Jinnah above tries to convey, and, that is, that the very rhythm of life that structures Muslim lives is markedly different from that of a Hindu's.

Even more compelling are his thoughts at the end of this excerpt from our conversation. TC speaks of an uneasiness he felt about claiming religiosity or his religious identity in India.

Secularism, as he describes it, euphemized and disguised what lurked beneath - an awareness of difference between faiths. Difference, not necessarily in a negative sense, but in the sense that people practiced their daily living in ways that spoke to what Jinnah has referred to as distinct

"religious philosophies" such that it was constitutive of their identities. That he considers religion 112

as having been "taboo" is indicative of his earlier sentiments that India was not "as secular as it

leaders" deemed it to be. However, TC seems to back-pedal a bit on his earlier assertions about

facing discrimination in India as a Muslim:

Although I was quite young, I do remember a few Hindu-Muslim riots in Bombay. Bombay was a very secular city you know. It never mattered what religion you were. It mattered how much money you had or what your social or business position was. But it never mattered what religion you were. And I think this situation continued pretty much into the late '50s or even the '60s. If anything, there was an undercurrent of that. An undercurrent had begun but there was not a mainstream current like there is existent today. Today Bombay is a non-secular city. It's ardently Hindu.

Have you been to the Mohatta 13 Palace exhibition here in Karachi? Have you seen the railway exhibition there? [I nodded in response to both questions]. I was involved in that exhibition. I'm also on the Board of Trustees. Did you see those two matkas [a circular shaped water cooler made out of clay] there - one saying "Hindu pani [water]" and the other saying HMuslim pan/'? I think that says it all about how religion was part of the undercurrent of life in Bombay. These things were there but we considered them normal. It's part of somebody's religious sensitivity. So you respect it and move on. I mean the same way you and I wouldn't like to eat out of the same plate where ham was served - it's the same thing.

It's sad that things are very different now - Bombay used to be the most secular city in India. Now other cities are that way but Bombay isn't.

Unfortunately the Muslims in India are relegated almost to the lowest rungs in society. If you consider that there are 15% Muslims in that country, then there are probably not even 2% who have made it. Not even 1%. It will be in the fractions of a percent. This is how the situation stands. (2006; bold emphasis added)

It's intriguing to compare TC's earlier position that he felt he would be at a

"disadvantage" in trying to get a job as a Muslim in Bombay when he returned from England in the 1960s to his ideas in the passage above. He seems to oscillate between two contradictory

claims: one in which he faced discrimination in India because he was a Muslim and one in which

secularism governed his life in India. The former compelled him to move to Pakistan whereas the

latter seems to be constituted primarily by his memories of a cosmopolitan, secular Bombay in

13 Mohatta Palace was commissioned in the 1920s by a Hindu businessman known as Shivratan Chandraratan Mohatta who used it as his summer home. It was built to resemble Rajasthani palaces. When he left in 1947 for India, Mohatta Palace was briefly used to house the Ministry of Foreign Affairs after which it was handed to Quaid-e-Azam's sister, Mohtarma (a respectful term whose closest translation in English means 'lady'). Mohtarma Jinnah ran her presidential campaign against General Ayub Khan from this building. It currently houses a museum dedicated to Pakistani history. 113 which the undercurrents of religiosity were considered part of the 'normal' and were hardly the rationale for "an ardently Hindu" in which the "Muslims ... [were] relegated to the lowest rungs in society''. What I noticed in the course of our conversation, as well as in other field research interviews where I spoke with individuals who had migrated from India to Pakistan or vice versa, that an idiom of religious hatred was acknowledged as having overtaken a space they had once called home. However, at the same time, they speak fondly of individual relationships forged with a Hindu friend or neighbor. I have also noticed similar tendencies in scholarship on ethnicity, religion, and violence with respect to communalism in British India, for example, Freitag 1996,

Fox 1996, Jones 2002, Kakar 1996, Pandey 1992, and Roy 1994. Partition literature too evolves around similar lines whereby individual relationships are, for the most part, considered off-limits from analyses and opinions about religious divides.

For example, in Bapsi Sidhwa's Ice-Candy Man (1988), a story of the days leading up to partition we see Lenny, the protagonist who is 8 years old, going to the park everyday with her maid, Shanti, whom she calls Ayah (the Urdu word for maid). It was here that Shanti met up with a group of friends all of whom hailed from different faiths: Oil Nawaz or Ice-Candy Man and

Hassan (The Masseur) were Muslims, Hariya and Moti who were Hindus, and a Sikh by the name of Sher Singh. This group reflected, according to Sidhwa, "the complex social and cultural mosaic that made up Lahore of those days" (Bhalla 2006, 226). As the story progresses, what is noteworthy is that while an awareness of religious differences is not absent in these relationships and, in fact, becomes the source of playful teasing on occasion, soon drives a rift between these people as communal violence increases in the Lahore of British India where most of the story is set. A metaphor of religious divisiveness is one that people who have experienced the 1940s in

British India are acutely aware of in that they have felt discriminated against but the attribution of that remain to larger political forces, be they political parties or an abstract and unspecified 'they', rather than those with whom people had personal relationships. Curiously enough, it is also in the course of relating within these relationships that these individuals came to form their view on 114 abstract categories such as 'India', 'Pakistan', 'Hindu', and 'Muslim'. I explore this point in greater depth in the concluding chapter. An excerpt from Sidhwa's Ice-Candy Man will help illustrate the point for now:

There is much disturbing talk. India is going to be broken. Can one break a country? And what happens if they break it where our house is? Or crack it further up on Warris Road? How will 1. ever get to Godmother's then? ... I ask Ayah. 'They'll dig a canal ... 'she ventures. 'This side for Hindustan and this side for Pakistan. If they want two countries, that's what they'll have to do - crack India with a long, long canal.' Gandhi, Jinnah, Nehru, Iqbal, Tara Singh, Mountbatten are names I hear. And I become aware of religious differences. It is sudden. One day everybody is themselves - and the next day they are Hindu, Muslim, Sikh, Christian. People shrink, dwindling into symbols. Ayah is no longer just my all-encompassing Ayah - she is also a token. A Hindu. Carried away by a renewed devotional fervour she expends a small fortune in joss-sticks, flowers and sweets on the gods and goddesses in the temples. Imam Din and Yousaf, turning into religious zealots, warn Mother they will take Friday afternoons off for the Jumha prayers .... Crammed into a narrow religious slot they too are diminished: as are Jinnah and Iqbal, Ice-candy-man and Masseur. (Sidhwa 1988, 93)

Butalia, in presenting oral histories of the experience of partition survivors, echoes a similar sentiment. That religious divides emerged overnight on August 14 and 15, 1947:

Not only were people separated overnight, and friends became enemies, homes became strange places, strange places now had to be claimed as home, a line was drawn to mark a border, and boundaries began to find reflection in people's lives and minds. Identities had suddenly to be redefined: if you were a Punjabi one day, sharing a cultural space with other Punjabis, you now had to put aside all such markers of identity - cultural, linguistic, geographical, economic - and privilege only one, your religion. You had to partition your mind, and close off all those areas that did not fit the political division around you. (2000, 285).

There is an underlying current in the excerpts from Butalia and Sidhwa of religious divisions as artificial or created because they breed separatism and hatred. In them resides the power to annihilate the 'other'. Those narratives are certainly there but, as TC's story points out, they are similarly balanced by competing characterizations in which living with the 'other' in harmony is both possible and desirable. What is worth highlighting here is that it is the very fact of difference that can be yoked and deployed in multiple ways. It's not as if religious differences appeared overnight as Butalia seems to suggest or as Sidhwa writes. What we've seen through the interviews presented thus far, particularly in TC's recollections of the Bombay he grew up in as a 115

"secular" space where he forged lifelong friendships to the one he returned to where he knew he would be at a "disadvantage" as a Muslim looking for a job in the 1960s to one that is now

"ardently Hindu" and no longer the same as the Bombay he re.members from his childhood days.

Even in his relationships with his friends, there are moments in which inter-religious differences are only part of an undercurrent, some where they don't seem to matter much, and others characterized by tense moments in which he is not perceived as a "friend" because of the country of which he is now a citizen. Each of these involves a different way to yoke the boundary between

Hindu/Muslim, Indian/Pakistani, what have you. It is not as if these identities appear out of thin air but, to be more precise, TC's narrative is an example of how at times they are yoked in ways that craft a hostile relationship across the 'self-other' boundary and, at other times, a more amicable one. In other words, it is the specific mobilization of rhetorical resources by actors that matters. I flesh this point out in greater detail in the concluding chapter.

As the interview drew to a close, TC and I turned our attention to the matter of the ongoing peace process. What is important to point out here that at the time of this interview the initial euphoria that accompanied the beginning of the peace process was beginning to fade. In

2006, fatigue and skepticism came home to roost in place of jubilation. Bearing this in mind, I probed TC to share his thoughts on the reason(s) why the two countries have remained at loggerheads and the future, as he envisioned it, of the most recent composite peace process that

India and Pakistan have been engaged in:

Nething is going on. I think - I really believe. Hmm. Okay. I've seen the piece of paper that, on which, the new boundary of the Indian- and Pakistani-held Kashmirs was drawn. It has been signed by Brijesh Mirza - who was at that time Vajpayee's main advisor for foreign policy at that time - and Ejaz Naik who was a former foreign secretary. This was all part of Track II Diplomacy. It was on the Ashoka Hotel, Delhi letter-paper. And there was agreement on that. [I asked TC what came of it] No, it didn't happen because the hawks in the BJP said that if you decide to sign this agreement then the BJP doesn't have a chance of being re-elected. I thought to myself when I saw this that if this gets implemented then this is the best time for two reasons. There's a BJP government in India and there's a Punjabi Prime Minister in Islamabad. It didn't happen.

So I think that's the story for you. 116

Will it go? Will it not go? I don't think so. But I think this ardent animosity will stop. I think there will be a semi-soft line. And as long as people don't cross the border too much and have one more storming of the Houses of Parliament or something like that again. I mean what happened over here [referring to the recent spate of bomb blasts in Karachi] is, I'm pretty sure, Indian-sponsored. This sets us back 3 - 5 years. This is my honest opinion. (2006; bold emphasis added)

For TC, the conflict between Pakistan and India revolves around Kashmir and, as he suggests somewhat explicitly but mostly implicitly, India is to be blamed for the fact that the problem remains unresolved. That TC had access to a document showcasing the re-drawn boundaries of the disputed territory is intriguing but more so because of whom and what he blames for it i.e. the

"BJP hawks". This is representative of the quintessentially 'Pakistani' position on what they perceive as the hard line adopted by India on the Kashmir issue. Given that Pakistan has made several proposals over the decades in which it has budged from what it considers its rightful claim on Kashmir14 and compromised considerably with an explicit interest in locating a solution to a protracted territorial dispute and that these have always been rejected by India has led to the latter being perceived as unreasonable, contentious, and increasingly hawkish in the Pakistani national imagination (Pandey 2002). This opinion within Pakistani circles has hardened considerably over the last couple of years following New Delhi's outright rejection of proposals put forward by Musharraf which were publicly acknowledged as fair to the extent of falling short of giving up the Pakistani claim on Kashmir. This chain of events has been construed in public I discourse as yet another example of a Hindu India's forcible annexing of territory much like the events of 1947 when princely states like Hyderabad and Junagadh that should have been part of

Pakistan were taken over by India through use of military force (Burke 1974; Pandey 2002). TC's referral to the BJP, which became widely known worldwide for subscribing to the agenda of the

Hindutva movement and its anti-Muslim stance, in this instance is, therefore, telling and hints at an unreasonable Hindu India much like the two-nation theory that the All-India Muslim League supported cautioned Indian Muslims to watch out for. TC is willing to accede that the agreement

14 A brief history of this issue has already been provided in Chapter 1 of this dissertation. 117 might not have been in the best political interest of the BJP. As I asked him later, he clarified that since it was a solution that Hindutva supporters would have seen as 'weak' and 'soft on Pakistan' the BJP was not inclined to support it.

Finally, TC's thoughts on the future of the peace process represent a particularly popular view within Pakistan - the days of "ardent animosity" are over and an uneasy limbo between 'peace' and 'conflict' seems to have taken its place. That he cautions towards the fragility of this balance is also instructive; events like terrorist attacks on either side tend to stir up hatred and have been noted for their potential to spiral into violence. This is yet another reminder of the value of causal complexity in accounting for the persistence of conflict between India and

Pakistan instead of drawing a straight, pre-determined line between variable X and outcome Y.

Religious differences can be narrated so that the actions that the 'self' takes in response to the

'other' cultivate 'friendship'.

On the other hand, a different context, is all it takes to spark animosities and a desire to annihilate the 'other' in the name of national pride and integrity. This, in fact, is also the overarching theme that TC's thoughts take us towards. In sharing his experiences, he seemed to emphasize a back-and-farthing between different ways in which the 'self-other boundary' and relations across this boundary are emergent.

What is particularly intriguing here is the juxtaposition of experiences of secularism and communalism - professionally TC felt that his Muslim identity worked against him in India whereas socially it didn't seem to make much of a difference except on certain occasions. In this vein, central to TC's stories lies a fairly purist version of the two-nation theory- one in which obtaining Pakistan was imperative and that subscribes to the notion that life for Muslims in a

Hindu India was nothing less than a challenge. That his group of friends hailed from different religious communities might stand out like an aberration but also stands reconciled for it was for professional reasons that TC migrated to Pakistan in 1964. 118

In this section I explored the theme of migration by turning to the decisions and experiences of partition survivors. What emerges in this analysis is that claims used to justify the demand for a separate, independent state for the Muslim of India remain very much a part of the ethical imaginary that shapes how relations are imagined with the 'Indian other' in the Pakistani context. In the next two sections, I continue with the theme of migration but turn to two very different aspects of it: first, that of claims of 'belonging' along the two competing poles of 'birth' versus 'blood'; and, second, the issue of language.

15 16 "Mittee "versus "Khoon Pasina ": To Whom Does Pakistan Belong?

The place and role of birth has continued to function as an important factor in most discussions of nation-building and nationalism. Pakistani-ness is no exception to this rule. Mittee or the 'soil' is an oft-used, rather romanticized metaphor for belonging in both Pakistan and India.

Being born 'of the soil' signifies the greatest kind of belonging that there can be. If you were born on a particular land, everything associated with it becomes both an entitlement of birth as well as a responsibility to nurture it and sacrifice for it. Many films and patriotic songs valorize this emotion - you do everything for the 'soil' because it has done everything for you not least of which is giving you an identity in this world. In a sense, being of the 'soil' renders you of the

'nation'. A nation which is not just a 'homeland' but also a 'motherland' - a mother of whom you are, perhaps even have to be, born.

However, what complicates matters is the fact that the territorial space that we now recognize on the map as 'Pakistan' was once part of a larger territory of the subcontinent known as 'India'. This is hardly unusual if we think about the histories out of which nations have

15 This world is literally translated as "soil" but in this context, in both Urdu and Hindi, it refers to a sense of national belonging. I explain the significance of this in greater depth below.

16 The word 'khoon' is translated in Urdu/Hindi as 'blood' while 'pasina'refers to 'sweat'. In this context, the phrase is used to signify the hard work and sacrifices of the Muhajir in making Pakistan for it was this community of immigrants that was most active in the freedom struggle in British India. 119 emerged. Nationalist movements have sought to carve their cartographies of ownership on lands with symbolic histories that might have competed with the rights of other collectives with different claims and symbolic attachments. However, in this particular instance, the symbolic overlap is fraught with tensions in the demarcation of inside/outside that emerged in the course of the independence movement in British India that coalesced around two primary and conflicting claims to space/land.

One sought to preserve the unity of the Indian subcontinent in the name of a secular nationalism that looked to the rationality of the European experience with nation-building to justify its demand. It drew on a history of India prior to the British to narrate its territorial boundaries.

Although India had been invaded and occupied by other powers, the uniqueness of the British presence was not in the fact that they joined India with another, already existing empire 17 but, rather, in that the British rule of India was marked by a deliberate effort on the part of the colonial rulers to assimilate India as part of the culture that was the hallmark of the British Empire. Thus, independence, in this narration, was envisioned as a departure of the British while leaving 'India' in tact - as it was, territorially speaking, before their arrival.

The other narrative, however, also incorporated religion as part of their identity. Muslims began to develop a distinct sense of self under British rule in India. The once-rulers of this land, the Muslims of British India, as a community, began to retreat within themselves. Resistance to the Empire's policies best encapsulated in the 'Minute on Education' presented by Macaulay whose goal was to "form ... a class of persons Indian in blood and colour, but English in tastes, in opinions, in morals and in intellect" likely created a heightened sense of individuality within the

Muslim collective (1835). This became evident with the emergence of the idea of the 'two-nation theory' as outlined in chapter 3. Whether it was the demand for a separately administered entity within the Indian Union that the All-India Muslim League clung to as late as just months before independence or the demand for a separate, independent nation-state altogether in the form of

17 The annexation of India by the Mughals also placed the subcontinent as part of a larger kingdom that had roots in an Islamic identity. 120

Pakistan, a significant part of the Muslim population in British India came to articulate their relationship with the same land somewhat differently. The development of a civilizational identity whose relationship with the space that was 'India' came to be defined through a religion that had not been borne of Indian soil but that had come from outside. In this s~nse, it was aligned with a belonging with the larger concept of a Muslim Amah but, at the same time, was also distinctly of the territory that was known as India. And so emerged the concept of Pakistan - the land of the pure. Here purity looked towards Islam. In this sense, Pakistan, in terms of the symbolic meanings attached to its territory represents a unique paradox. Its spatial confines are not just made meaning-full through claims of birth and land but also look towards a religion that is not 'of the land' but is a 'foreign' influence. As Jabbar elaborates:

The concept of Pakistan, the inevitability of Pakistan began with the very first Muslim to set foot on the soil of South Asia. Or the moment when a Muslim was converted - meaning a Hindu became a Muslim. That began the process when historically, at some point, Pakistan became inevitable. (2006; bold emphasis added)

The notion of Pakistan here is distinctly tied to a particular geographical space of South Asia but it is also linked, in the philosophical sense with th~ advent of 'Islam' from outside 'India'.

At the same time, while 'land' is imbued with meaning that extends outside of birthrights and is linked with a religious philosophy, it is also constructed around a denial or exclusion of

'Hindu-ness' as represented by the conversion of Hindus to Muslims.

For Colonel Ahmed, this denial of Hindu~ness is essential to the very purity of the concept of Pakistan as the land of the pure:

You see it is essential to understand that Pakistan represents everything that is in a sense anti-India. This does not mean that we remain embroiled in ardent animosity with India. Not at all. But yes it does induce a certain tension in the mix. Why do I say this? Think about it. Pakistan is a testament to the uniqueness of life from a Hindu way of life. Some say that the idea of Pakistan was born when the first Muslim set foot on Indian soil. Perhaps. But that idea became a reality when Hindus became Muslims in this part of South Asia. Why? Because there began the birth of two-civilizations - this is the two-nation theory. We are two distinct nations and we can't coexist as a unity peacefully. When you had conversions, the process of the birth of Pakistan actually began there.

Now that I think about it perhaps Pakistaniat is not anti-India but it certainly is the antithesis of Hindustan. As a nation-state, lndian-ness cannot exist within our 121

boundaries. There is no place for Hindustan in Pakistan but we can certainly have amicable relations with Hindustan.

I'll tell you a little story. See I've been posted in interior Sindh. I have even patrolled the villages during wartime in 1965. There are many Hindus there. After being posted for so long one develops a certain bond with the people. After all you meet them everywhere and for months on end. You go away and come back. And they're still there. They recognize you. They know your life story. You interact with them.

After I retired from the army I worked in insurance for a while to supplement my income. I returned to these villages for work. This time I didn't have the luxury of staying at the army base. So these people were kind enough to offer me shelter. They invited me to stay in their homes.

But I declined. Why?

This might sound bad but didn't feel comfortable praying inside a Hindu's house. With the statues of gods all around I just didn't feel right; I thought it would affect my concentration. I felt that they would be offended also by my praying. My father had told me stories about his life in India where a Hindu wouldn't want to drink from the same glass as him. I knew my blood would boil if that happened to me. After all, I'm an army man. I've been trained to fight the enemy. So I thought it better, in the interest of keeping relations friendly, to decline the invitation respectfully.

So you see I had nothing in my heart. My actions were out of concern for our friendship. We need the space to keep small things like the refusal to eat from the same plate from exploding into gigantic issues. Our ways of life are different and it's best that we stay apart.

For us Pakistanis the clash was over on August 14, 1947. For the Hindustanis it continued and still does to this day. They feel we threw them out of their land. What they don't understand is that this land has been ours from ancient times - we converts have occupied this land just as long. It is not betrayal to have divided India - we only took over those areas where we were already in majority (2005; bold emphasis added).

In this excerpt, Colonel Ahmed establishes Pakistani territorial space as a distinctly

Muslim one. Here a Hindu India represents a civilizational identity that is completely opposite to a

Muslim one. A land demarcated, by virtue of the majority of its occupants, for Muslims to conduct their affairs according to the Islamic way of life. This land gained meaning through establishing a

Muslim or Islamic identity but its inhabitants draw their claim on it through birth because they are of the same mittee and have been for centuries.

However, there is also a third script - a sub-narrative, if you will, within the second plot that ties in with the first and helps locate, in greater depth, how the 'Pakistani self' imagines itself 122 as distinct from an 'Indian other' reiterating the pull of religious nationalism in the ethical imaginary of the former.

In Islamic history, the notion of hijrator migration is crucial in that it is intimately intertwined with the spread of Islam within Saudi Arabia. The word hijrat refers to the migration of the Prophet Mohammad from Mecca to Madinah in 622 A.O. The calendar in use by Muslims begins with this era where the years are referred to as A.Hor "After Hijrat". As mentioned above, the word 'Muhajir' comes from 'Muhajirun'; the latter refers to the those who emigrants who accompanied Prophet Mohammad on this hijrat. In this vein, Muhajir, given the kind of pride and valor associated with this word in Islamic history, ought to be seen as the very essence of

18 Pakistani-ness given that 'Pakistan' was established in the name of Islam . However, within

Pakistan, there is a strand within the larger discourse around Muhajir identity and its place within the Pakistani national fabric that overlooks this history and, instead, emphasizes the fact that the

'Muhajir' whose mittee is actually Indian in that the Muhajir in Pakistan hails from present-day

India. In this context, the Muhajir becomes a sort of pariah within the Pakistani nation. Worse yet, a pariah with an Indian connection because that is the land on which s/he or his/her ancestors were born. However, the Muhajir response to the charge of belonging to the Indian homeland draws on the claim that it was through the khoon - blood - and pasina - sweat - of the Muhajir and his/her ancestors that Pakistan came into existence. Those whose ancestors migrated to

Pakistan from India also insist that they have been born of the mittee of Pakistan for generations now thereby negating the claim of traces of lndian-ness within their being. This articulation draws very much on the pride associated with hijrat itself in Islamic symbolism and history.

18 Two main perspectives exist on this subject. There are those who claim Pakistan was established as a 'Muslim' homeland to protect the community from the aggression and oppression that was bound to occur in a Hindu dominated India. Others insist that Pakistan was established not just for 'Muslims' but also for 'Islam' in that it was meant to be an Islamic state based on Islamic principles of democracy where Allah is considered sovereign. An extended discussion of the two is beyond the scope of the investigation at hand. However, it is important to recognize and acknowledge the distinction in so far that it becomes relevant to drawing lines between a Muslim/Islamic Pakistan and a Hindu India. 123

The encounter between these positions - i.e. mittee vs. khoon pasina is something that one of the participants I interviewed grappled with at great length. Meher, responding to charges of being considered as 'Indian' given the fact that she belongs to the Muhajir community had this to say:

It's really wrong and unfair that they think we're Hindustani. They think we're Indian afld that is complete nonsense. You see we've been living here for generations now. This is our home. In fact, we're the ones who actually came to be in Pakistan, to be Pakistanis. They are the ones who just happened to be here. So we have more of a right to question them. If anything the Muhajir is more of a Pakistani because he fought for Pakistan. Quaid-e-Azam was a Muhajir. If he had been alive longer then perhaps we would not have seen these days. I hate that they call us Hindustani. It gives them a license to kil.1 us. Not that they kill us in the name of religion. It's not a or anything like that. They kill us because they think we're foreigners, that we're Indians. And an Indian is a Hindu. And Muslims and Hindus can't really get along. That's why we had to have a separate nation. They see us as Indians maybe because our features look more Hindu since we're darker and look like the people they see on Indian television and think we'll dominate them and we Muhajirs did until Zulfiqar Bhutto came. (2006; bold emphasis added)

Here the word 'Hindustani' refers to a word often used for Muhajirs in Pakistan especially for those individuals who are darker-skinned and came from the region known as United Provinces

(henceforth, UP) in India. Their style of speaking Urdu with a particular intonation as well as their vocabulary is often a dead giveaway that they hail from this region. For example, the word for 'I' in Urdu is "mein". However, people from the United Provinces will often use the more royal "hum" which means "we" in conventional Urdu but is also used in place of 'T' by people who are originally from UP. Meher's explication of the equation of Hindustani and Mutlajir hearkens back to the ideas that informed the ways in which the Muslim League drew upon the two-nation theory to justify their demand for political autonomy and, eventually, a separate homeland since Hindus and Muslims, according to this notion, formed two civilizations for whom peaceful coexistence was simply not possible. She admits that while a Muhajir is a Muslim, being labeled as Hindustani revives memories of and a hatred for a Hindu India that, in the national narrative of Pakistan, has long been viewed as desirous of violating the sanctity of Pakistani territory and even reincorporating it back into the Indian Union. 124

Thus, in Meher's narrative, looking Hindu becomes tantamount to being Hindu irrespective of one's faith which then, in the minds of the other Pakistanis, is enough of a justification to discriminate against Muhajirs and even systematically kill them. Curiously enough, this was the only time that Meher used the word "Hindustani" instead of "Muhajir". It is also worth mentioning here that the problem has exacerbated over the years as the state, particularly since the 1970s, has pursued a policy of lslamization in which religious paranoia is heightened, at times to a frenzy (Haqqani 2005, 21 ). In this climate, Pakistan has continued to be redefined along two lines: one as a "Muslim" state and the other as an "Islamic" one. The first is more closely aligned with Jinnah's vision in which the purpose of creating Pakistan was to provide a safe space for

Indian Muslims where they could live without fear of domination or discrimination given their minority status in a united India. The second has found increasing resonance as the religious organizations, small in number but that remain an exceptionally vocal minority nonetheless, have continued to manipulate public discourse and create pressure on the government to align the state with Islamic principles by "using theologians to create an impression of pressure from below for policies that did not otherwise capture the imagination of the people" but did succeed in rallying a sizeable segment of the population to participation in religiously motivated causes

(Haqqani 2005, 20; Pasha 1992, 116-117). In this kind of context, calling a group "Hindustani" takes on a particularly dangerous hue - one that has no basis for a religious connection but surely taps into a hatred for a 'Hindu India' that 'being Islamic' can entail.

The link drawn here between "Quaid-e-Azam" and "Muhajir" reads like an attempt to end the ambiguity around the latter. If he is indeed revered as the Father of the Nation of

Pakistan, then, by extension, the Pakistani-ness of Muhajirs ought not to be doubted. As we talked further, I asked Meher to elaborate on what she meant by her statement that Muhajirs were more Pakistani:

We're just as Pakistani - even if I call myself a Muhajir I'm just as much Pakistani as'a Punjabi. Where was there a Pakistan before? Theirs was an accident of birth; ours was a choice. My father and my grandfather were both freedom fighters. If we're going to start dividing things this way then we Muhajirs have more of a right on Pakistan. 125

But people don't think like that. And that's why there continues to be lots of injustice against the Muhajir. Always has been and I think it'll continue this way. (2006; bold emphasis added)

The distinction drawn by Meher between birth and choice here is reminiscent of the debates that ensued as a result of the provincial politics that arose as Muslim refugees continued to pour into

19 Pakistan in 1947 through the early 1960s . Since they had left their land and most of their possessions, they had to be rehabilitated once they arrived in the newly formed state of Pakistan.

People staked their claim and ownership on both residential and commercial properties vacated by refugees heading for India. There was no paperwork involved. There couldn't have been any since governance mechanisms had not yet been established. In this land grab, the ones who were successful were those who had the means to pay off the limited police forces that were there or whose families, particularly male members, were so large that they had the numbers to invade a space and call it their own without fear of being kicked out.

As the refugees continued their journeys to India from Pakistan and vice versa as late as the early 1960s, the pressure on rehabilitation efforts mounted. In Sindh, which is the province to which most Muhajirs moved as they made the journey to Pakistan from India, violence mounted and clashes became frequent after which Jinnah issued a state of emergency in 1948 regarding the rehabilitation of refugees which was not viewed upon favorably by then Sindh premier Khuhro (Talbot 1998). Although Khuhro was eventually dismissed from power, the manner in which he continued to oppose and hamper rehabilitation efforts throughout his tenure set a dangerous precedent for relations between Sindhis and Muhajirs (Talbot 1998). During a subcommittee meeting of the Pakistan Muslim League Council in February 1948 held to address the problem of refugee rehabilitation in Sindh, Khuhro was chided by Raja Ghazanfar Ali, then

Pakistan Minister for Refugees and Rehabilitation, for raising "the virus of provincialism" and engaging in behavior that was both against the spirit of .Islam and Pakistani-ness, as Khuhro defended his actions by citing the burden placed on the local Sindhi by an overwhelming influx of

19 It is important to note here that until the 1960s Indians and Pakistanis did not require a visa to travel between the two countries. 126

Muhajir refugees" (Talbot 1998, 108). Khuhro was echoing the Sindhi sentiment in which the

Muhajir did not have a right to land that was Sindhi given that s/he was not born here but came from an alien land. Contrast this against the claims made by the leader of the MOM, Altaf Hussain which Jalal cites as he argues that "[w]e [the Muhajirs] have a right to Pakistan, and it is a right of blood, we gave blood for it" (1995, 83). The clash between Sindhis (and later the Punjabis) and

Muhajirs continues to be organized around these lines. The Sindhis view Muhajirs as aliens who have less of a right to the land and opportunities within this land than they do on the basis that they are not of Pakistani soil. Muhajirs find this logic ludicrous for they believe that they were the ones responsible for the creation of a separate Pakistani state. Meher too echoes the same sentiment almost verbatim later in the course of this interview:

Why we're thought of as Indians is because we have no province to call our own. It's about land. Bhutto created provincial identities with his promotion of the quota system. He wanted to help the Sindhis. He didn't like the Muhajirs because he was Sindhi. He obviously thought we came here and stole his land. So after Bhutto people thought of themselves as Sindhis first and Pakistani next. Or maybe they thought of themselves as only Sindhi? For the Urdu-speaking person, there is no province to claim. We came without any land. We left our land. It's all about land and birth. Like if you're an adopted child people will say you're adopted and these aren't your real parents. Just like that they don't want to see us as real Pakistanis. If I think about it like this I can see their logic. But then they should also remember that the parent who adopts their child also loves him or her. And in this case it makes no sense because without the Muhajirs there would have been no Pakistan. The Pathans wanted to stay in India. They didn't want to be part of Pakistan. Nobody points fingers at them. Nobody points fingers at those Pathan refugees from Afghanistan. If anybody is an outsider, it's us because they call us Indian because our features, our language seems Indian to them. It doesn't matter

Now three generations of our family have been born in Pakistan. My mother was born here. I was born here. My kids were born here. Why call us Muhajir? Hmm but I also call myself a Muhajir [laughs]! But I think of it with love and pride; they think of it with hatred because they see as us Indian. They call us Hindustani. How can we be Hindustani? The Prophet (peace be upon him) was also a Muhajir right? He also did hijrat. So we can't be Hindustani. Our actions make us more Muslim - they mirror those of the Prophet (peace be upon him). (2006; bold emphasis added)

Similarly, Khawaja Bux, the grandson of a Muslim freedom fighter who migrated to

Karachi from Bombay (present-day Mumbai) on a ship from Mumbai on the very date Pakistan emerged as an independent nation-state, i.e. August 14 1947, talked rather passionately about 127 the 'lndianization' of the 'Muhajir' within Pakistan whereby s/he comes to be seen as 'the other within':

My parents were born in Pakistan. I was born in Pakistan. So we are of this land. I don't object to being called a Muhajir. I'm proud that my grandfather believed in the mission of the Muslim League and fought for the independence of the Muslims so his family could have a better life. But, when they [i.e. others in Pakistan] use it to suggest that we have loyalties or ties to India then that saddens me. But it not only saddens me, it makes me stark raving mad to be honest.

Our pride is Pakistani - so what if our ancestors weren't born here? We have been born here for generations now - and will be. But just because they believe we were at some point connected to the mittee of India doesn't make us less Pakistani.

We are certainly not Hindustani; we are Pakistanis just as much as they are. This land is ours too. It was created out of the blood and sweat of my forefathers. I don't turn around and question their right to be here or their right to call this country their home so I don't see why they do or think they can say such - pardon my French - bullshit!

And if they insist on calling us outsiders because we migrated, I wonder why they're so eager to see the 'Indian' connection but not the fact that we migrated which is a great Islamic tradition in the service of religion. But not Indian soil equals Hindu and the Hindu doesn't belong in Pakistan. But the Hindus living in Sindh do. You know why? They're of this soil.

But you know what? This soil was Indian until my forefathers and yours - you said your family had come from India yes? Good. So like I was saying this soil wasn't even 'Pakistani' until our forefathers fought to give it that name. What an absurd and muddled paradox that we who gave this land the name 'Pakistan' are the ones seen as 'Indian'. It would have all been India if it weren't for us. (2005; bold emphasis added)

As mentioned at the beginning of this section, land is critical in demarcating inside/outside as it is in most discussions about nationalism. In both Hindi and Urdu, being "of the soil" indicates a right of belonging that is undisputed and a bond that never ends. By that extension, if Muhajirs don't have a province and belonged to the "soil" that is Indian, then it's easy to see how they're perceived as 'Indian' rather than 'Pakistani'. Muhajirs, on the other hand, describe themselves as such in the tradition of the Prophet Mohammed who also engaged in such a journey from Mecca to Medina. The religious symbolism is powerful here. A connection with the Prophet's behavior implicitly draws a connection to the Sunnah (the ways of the Prophet

Mohammed) which a majority of Pakistani Muslims believe are the behaviors o'ne must model to be a good Muslim. Bearing that in mind then, for the Muhajirs their very identity as Pakistanis can 128 likely be seen as grounded in the ways of the Prophet. Thus, to deem them alien in a Muslim state when their identity in fact is the very epitome of being 'Muslim' seems out of place. In the showdown on the matter of the rehabilitation of refugees that took place between Raja Ghazanfar

Ali and Khuhro to which I referred earlier we see the former constructing the latter's actions and attitude towards the Muhajirs as going against the very spirit of Islam. Although Ali doesn't explicitly draw a link between the Prophet's experience and that of the Muhajirs, the symbolism of the very word is suggestive in that regard within the broader theme of behaving appropriately

'Islamic/Muslim'. And, as the two-nation theory establishes, the country was made for Muslims to safeguard their rights. In that context, no-one had more of a right to move to be Pakistani than the

Muhajirs who hailed from regions in India where they found themselves in a minority and in danger of being governed, not to mention oppressed, by an anti-Muslim Hindu majority once the

British left.

The association of 'land' does not end with simply territory but is inextricably intertwined with that of language. This is evident in the excerpts below:

I think a Punjabi is also a Muhajir if she or he came from what is now India. Even if they crossed the line 5 miles away from Faisalabad after the boundaries were formally announced they came from India - so they are Muhajirs. But the Punjabi speaks Punjabi. There's a bond there of being of the same soil. Doesn't matter if the soil had a line drawn through it. Punjabis are bound through language. There was no Indian or Pakistani Punjabi. It was just Punjabi. So the Punjabi immigrant fit right in. Their loyalty or identity is never questioned. Not so for us. We Muhajirs speak Urdu - a language our Pakistani brothers and sisters mistakenly think is Indian. (Kulsoom 2005; bold emphasis added).

How can a language be only of the land? Languages are spoken by people. It matters how people identify. Just because our ancestors come from India and we have family there even now doesn't make us Indian. They call us Urdu-speaking now. Trying to be politically correct. Absurd! Hypocrites! They killed so many Muhajirs, committed so many atrocities. These Sindhis especially. And today they're ashamed so they call us Urdu-speaking. No matter what you call it you can't hide what is in their hearts. For them the Muhajir came from India and Urdu was grown in India. They killed Muhajirs calling us Indian; now they call us Urdu-speaking. We are still identified with the land of India. When will they learn that this freedom they live in was the work of us Muhajirs? Our blood, our sweat, our tears. Not theirs. These bloody so-called authentic Pakistanis see us as Indian - we who fought for Pakistan. We who shed blood for Pakistan. (Hassan 2006; bold emphasis added) 129

But it does anger me and hurt me when the name Muhajir is assoeiated with not being Pakistani. When people tell us to leave. Lots of people told us to leave during the riots in 1985. Those who were our friends suddenly seemed to want to do nothing with us. Even though Punjabis came from India just because they're Punjabis and speak Punjabi like the Punjabis who were here already they're Pakistani. But we, because we speak Urdu, are Indian! That's not true. There was no India or Pakistan back then. There was no such land so to say language belongs to a people of a different nation is wrong. If I speak Arabic do I suddenly become 'Arbi' [word used in Urdu to refer to people of Saudi Arabia]? No. So just because I speak Urdu and came from India doesn't make me Indian. My forefathers sacrificed a lot during the freedom struggle and then when they migrated. I'm Pakistani, not Indian. I'm Urdu-speaking but not Indian (Meher 2006; bold emphasis added)

The excerpts above highlight that the 'Indian other' doesn't only figure into the Pakistani ethical imaginary through appeals to rightful claims over land but also with respect to language.

Urdu was never the language of the land of Pakistan; it came to Pakistan's shores along with the

Muhajirs who migrated from India. It is to this aspect that I now turn below i.e. the appeals to inside/outside made on the basis of language.

Alien-Speak

Muhajirs, especially in recent years, have come to be labeled increasingly as "Urdu- speaking" in Pakistani public discourse. That Urdu was a language that developed in India, particularly in the region known as Uttar Pradesh, grants its speakers a symbolic connection with the 'other' across the border. Additionally, although Hindi .and Urdu follow different scripts, everyday/common Hindi and Urdu sound almost exactly alike with the exception of a few words as well as a few differences in pronunciation and phonetics. This seems to lend itself to an association with being Indian as Ghalib suggests below:

When I used to teach literature in Karachi University there was great pride associated with just the study of what our writers and poets had produced. I wasn't a professor but I used to teach part-time. We were moved by it. We thought with the words of these writers. They inspired us. But once the college campuses began to be taken over by student unions everything changed. Well not everything. Students were still inspired. Sadly, not by the words on paper but by the prejudice in the hearts.

It was only natural that would happen after [Zulfiqar Ali] Bhutto introduced the language quota. Everyone started thinking like a Sindhi, Punjabi, Baluchi, or Pathan. They were who made up Pakistan. Their languages had been born on Pakistani soil. No room for us Muhajirs. Our language had been imported from India. It came with us from India. It 130

sounded like Hindi. It might not have looked like Hindi but who cares about script in an illiterate country? Everyone can hear but not everyone can read and write. And if they already hated us Muhajirs for what they thought was invading their land and doing better than them then they needed an outlet to vent. And so Urdu bore the brunt of it. We bore the brunt of it - of its so-called lndianness. (2005; bold emphasis added)

Strangely enough, while Urdu had been the vanguard of the freedom movement in British India and had come to be identified squarely with Muslim culture given its Arabic script as well as the abundance of Persian and Arabic words, in a post-1947 Pakistan it donned a different meaning- full-ness altogether. Although accorded the status of the national language of Pakistan, subsequent ethnic rivalries challenged its dominance and authenticity as a symbol of Pakistani- hood. This did not lead to a denial of Urdu as the language of Pakistan, but, the Indian connection via the Muhajir community rendered it, as Ghalib describes, on as close to Hindi and therefore linguistica non grata as it were.

Similarly, in addition to language, starting in the early 1980s, Urdu itself has undergone a transformation - a cleansing or ablution if you will - of all potential Hindi influences. Curriculum planning discussions within the country have, according to one of my participants, who chose the pseudonym " History" and works in the Ministry of Education, revealed that:

In the memorandums we have received time and again from authorities lots of things received emphasis to purge any traces of lndianness within Pakistan. Education is the best tool for that, no? You raise a new generation that is very Pakistani.

That history textbooks have been rewritten is by now common knowledge. I can't show you any of the memos because that would be unethical and might get me into trouble but I can tell you that trivial things also took on great importance. So, for example, teachers were instructed to ensure that all students learnt the proper Urdu pronunciation of all phonetic sounds. Like the difference between 'kha' and 'kh' - the first one is Indian and the second one is the correct Pakistani way. It has to come from below the throat. It shouldn't sound like the way Indians speak.

Another thing I can tell you is more cultural but is also connected with language. You'll notice that in Pakistan we no longer say '-Hafi~0 " but instead now specify that "Allah-Hafiz'' should be used as more specific to the Muslim God. They instituted this as a change on TV so that all newscasters and even the end of the daily 1 transmission the sign off was now "Allah-Hafiz. Pakistan Paindabacf " - the "Khuda­ Hafi:i' was dropped off. I love how these things work. On the one hand, we believe in a

20 'Khuda-Hafiz'and 'Allah-Hafiz' are translated in English as "May God Protect You".

21 Pakistan Paindabad can be translated as 'Long Live Pakistan'. 131

merciful Allah. We also believe in the fact that human beings are imperfect so God takes note of our intentions to make sure we earn enough good in this world to find a place in Paradise. Fair enough. But somehow we think that God will be confused or offended if we call him by a name that Hindus also use! Ridiculous I know. But these things matter to us people. So if some Indian film song uses the word 'khuda' in it then suddenly we know we have to change our ways - doesn't matter that they're showing a Muslim character singing the song. But it is an Indian film. And so Pakistan has to be different. Remember we are two different civilizations - and the never the twain shall meet.

So if you use the word 'Khuda-Hafiz' now it betrays that you have some sort of Indian connection. But 'Khuda-Hafiz' if I'm not mistaken is used extensively in Iran so the Shias coming in from UP will still use it. Nothing wrong with it. But it's out of place now in Pakistan. Funny thing is my mother still says 'Khuda'-Hafiz'. Her ancestors came to India from Iran. Her Shia blood doesn't let that go. Plus she's very proud of her Lucknow identity so she talks very much like the UP people. It can get really embarrassing sometimes especially in front of my colleagues. Here I was instituting this change and my own mother hasn't taken to it! She's stuck to her Indian ways while her son works on using school curriculum to instill and develop Pakistaniat! (2005; bold emphasis added)

The politics of language are clearly visible in Lieutenant History's sharing of this story. If Urdu was, on the one hand, the language of the Muslims and, subsequently, the language of Pakistan, it also shared a lot with the Indian other for it was in India and alongside Hindi that the language grew. In the 1980s, President-General Zia-ul-Haq's regime worked hard to lslamize, rather

Arabize, Pakistan in terms of culture, social norms, legal structures, etc (Daily Times [Lahore,

Pakistan] 1 December 2008).

So, as Lieutenant History describes, one of the changes instituted was the switch to

Allah-Hafiz from the more commonly used Khuda-Hafiz at the time. If the impetus came from a move to lslamize the nation, this also produced an extended moment of cleansing that purified

Pakistan of any remains of its connection with a Hindu past while the territory was still a part of

India.

In this vein, the Pakistani establishment, on the one hand, seemed to accede to India's claim to its past as ancient while Pakistan was a new invention - perhaps an unjustified one borne out of principles that had nothing to do with nationhood proper.

On the other hand, appeals to 'Islam' and the rewriting of history, and, consequently,

Pakistani identity, so that the birth of Pakistan became an ancient matter being traced all the way 132 back to the advent of Islam in the Indian subcontinent instead of a creation of political necessity that took shape as late as the 1940s in the final stages of the freedom struggle helped restore and enhance the very legitimacy of the nation (Rahman 1998).

Therefore, discarding some of the old, whether it was the history of the nation or its linguistic habits, meant finding new ways to reintroduce the element of the ancient and/or engage in 'lslamization' strategies that were believed to be more authentically Pakistani thus restoring any anxiety that might accompany the loss of the 'old' and the 'familiar' in favor of discovering the true self whose existence went back at least 14 centuries (The Hindustan Times [New Delhi,

India] 6 June 2000).

If the Muhajirs had brought India with them through their spoken language, measures had to be taken to purify Pakistan of the Hindu influence within the language. And so Urdu continues to function as a site in which the 'othering' of a 'Hindu India' is negotiated by the 'self' that is 'Pakistani' and 'Muslim'.

This section has explored how the themes of land, language, and, finally, partition/migration (including its attendant rhetoric over civilizational identities) reaffirm 'being

Pakistani' through the ethical imaginary as it has been constituted by the ethical imaginary of the

'two-nation theory'. These articulations are also inextricably linked to the narration of a specific kind of 'Indian other'. In the final section of this chapter, which follows below, I explore the implications of these articulations of Pakistaniat for India-Pakistan relations.

Implications Of The Ethical Imaginary Of 'Pakistan' for Relations with the 'Indian Other'

In an interview given to Reuters in October 1947, Jinnah responded to a question about the future of India-Pakistan relations as follows:

First and the foremost, both Dominions must make all-out efforts to restore peace and maintain law and order in their respective States - that is fundamental. I have repeatedly said that; now that the division of India has been brought about by solemn agreement between the two Dominions, we should bury the past and resolve that, despite all that has happened, we shall remain friends . ... It is very unfortunate that 133

vigorous propaganda has been going on from the moment that the division was agreed upon and the two States were created that Pakistan is only a truncated Pakistan, that it is merely a temporary madness on the past of the Muslim League that has brought about this 'secession', that Pakistan will have to come into the Union as a penitent, repentant, erring son and that the 'two-nation theory' is responsible for all that has taken place....

If firm and friendly relations are to be established between the two Dominions, this sort of propaganda must stop. As for the two-nation theory, it is not a theory but a fact. The division of India is based on that fact, and what is more, that fact has been proved beyond doubt by the ugly and deplorable events of the past two months, and by the action of the Dominion of India pulling out Hindus from Pakistan as their nationals. How then can it be said that there is one nation? ....

You can hardly call this communal trouble, although I know it has been very loosely described as that. It is now clear beyond doubt that it was well planned, well organized, and well-directed and the object of it all, it seems to me, was to paralyse the new-born Dominion of Pakistan. There is only one remedy now left - that is for the Indian Dominion to deal ruthlessly with this diabolical conspiracy and extirpate, I say extirpate, the roots of the plot and the powerful men who are behind the organization ....

Pakistan has come to stay and will stay. But we are always ready to come to an understanding or enter into agreements with Hindustan as two independent, equal, sovereign States just as we may have our alliances, friendships, and agreements with any other foreign nations. But all this propaganda and agitation, all the threats that are held out even by prominent Congress speakers, against our fully independent sovereign State are not likely to restore goodwill and friendly relations between the two States. (2000: 58-63; bold emphasis added)

Here Jinnah faults India for its propaganda and Indian elements for organized violence inspired by a characteristically Hindu animosity against the newly born state of Pakistan, The "two-nation theory'', he maintains in the excerpt above, is a "fact" and "not just a theory'' whose proof lies in

"the ugly and deplorable events of the last two months" i.e. the violence and bloodshed between

August - October 1947 in both India and Pakistan (where it has been created by India). As early as the months following partition, the place of the 'Indian other' in the ethical imaginary of

'Pakistaniat' becomes meaning-full such that a link is established to pre-partition fears of Hindu domination and aggression as espoused by the All India Muslim League's interpretation of the two-nation theory. The rhetoric of present times is not vastly different.

When I raised the subject. of peace between Pakistan and India, specifically with respect to challenges, the participants expressed the same views that I continued to hear in

Pakistani public discourse in which lamentations of the 'aggressive Indian other' are abundant. In 134 this articulation, the 'Indian other' is unanimously faulted for both contentious moments as well as the failure of peace initiatives in his/her stubborn refusal to acknowledge the legitimacy of the religious nationalism that shapes Pakistan given its rather fanatical subscription to secular notions of nationalism. The symbolism of this denial on India's part is critical for it betrays, from the

Pakistani vantage point, a continued aggression that once threatened the Muslims of India and is now something that Pakistan must content with. I share excerpts below to provide a more detailed flavor of this conversation to gain access to the ways in which the Pakistani national 'self' imagines and articulates the role of the Indian 'other' as well as its own in giving shape to the

India-Pakistan equation.

Jabbar retains fond memories of the time he spent growing up in India as well as the life he has made for himself as a Pakistani. He explained that he possesses tremendous respect for the "vitality and vibrance and ... pluralism of India - its capacity to have so many distinct strands within it is a great achievement which unfortunately we in Pakistan cannot say we do because we are so preponderantly a Muslim country. We are 97% Muslim and only 3% Hindu" (2006).

Nonetheless, Jabbar maintained that despite this ability of India to forge a unity out of multiple cultures and faiths, it too hasn't been able to escape the "appalling ignorance" by way misunderstandings related to religiosity that continue to demonize the 'other' on both sides of the border (2006). Giving an example of the close-mindedness that can be found in India vis-a-vis the religious nationalism that shapes Pakistan, Jabbar referred to a newspaper editorial by a well- known Indian writer published in a well-known Pakistani newspaper daily:

A brazen ignorance about political reality. And this is symptomatic, symbolized by an educated man like Kuldip Nayar who writes a weekly column for . About 2 years ago, he represented this Annual Tableeghi Jamaat which meets near Lahore in Raiwind. They have a gathering there. And they are totally apolitical - the Tableeghi Jamaat. Their focus is exclusively on the correct practice of faith and becoming better Muslims. Haan22 going door to door persuading people to go to the mosque. And he represented that as an example of jihadis getting together every year. It is totally a misunderstanding of what that institution means. So even a well-informed Indian supposedly can be so ill-informed and ignorant sometimes. (2006)

22 The English translation for the word "haan" is "yes". 135

This conversation once again hearkens us back to the debates surrounding the two- nation theory in British India. Jabbar's criticism of the Indian response to the activities of the

Tableeghi Jamaat as "ill-informed" and "ignorant" bespeaks of his disapproval of the tendency of the 'Indian other' to associate Pakistan with 'religious fanaticism' and violent 'jihadism' thereby attempting to delegitimize, much like Nehru did, all connected with a Muslim Pakistan as unacceptable and threatening (2006). I asked Jabbar if this attitude, in his opinion, had any impact on the most recent peace process that has been initiated between the two countries to which he responded:

To be fair, there has been progress. Yet it is like coming back to square one. Because pre-1965 when the difficulties really began [between India and Pakistan], many of the things we are now celebrating used to exist. Free travel used to exist. The rail link - which was celebrated the day before - the Thar Express, that used to exist. Cricket teams used to come and go. Films used to be seen here in the Pakistani theaters. Ironically, actually, in order to move forward we've had to go back ....

All this talk about breakthrough moves is actually recapturing the past pre-1965. Yes at the same time I think we have made progress on several fronts.

The reason why we are not making substantive progress on the very significant issue of Kashmir is - and I don't mind sounding like a Pakistani chauvinist since I am involved in the Track II dialog - are you familiar with Neem Rana? It is the longest surviving Track II dialog which is deliberately non-media. And that is the reason why it survives - because it is non-media. And [also] because both governments trust the dialog to conduct a dialog which is shared with governments afterwards. It is not dictated by the governments because each of the participants is an independent person and is not bound to follow any government policy.

But, even there, as a result of watching and listening to the Indians for about 12 years now - plus. Every 5 months, 6 months we go there. They come here. And we deal intensely for 3 days with all the issues. I can say without any tinge of conscience that is entirely due to Indian obduracy. Great tragedy. Such a large country. Such a small mindset. Such a small heart. The contrast is startling.

They have an amazing sense of insecurity and incapability of being magnanimous and gracious which is required by their size and scale.

We could easily make progress on Kashmir if they were to listen to any of the fine proposals that Pakistan has made. Look at the utter irony that we are portrayed as those who are sending jihadis across the Loe when we are the ones making the most rational proposals.

Look at the proposal of demilitarization. We are not saying only you withdraw. We are saying we also withdraw. What is wrong in this? They say it is a matter of internal security and then say they don't want to discuss demilitarization. We've even said let's talk about 136

new concepts like joint sovereignty. Radical concept. But you know there are places like Andora. Triast - problem location between Austria and Italy. Others too. There are various models. The Palestinian status of PLA amidst Israeli control is another model. That's another option. And you can develop a new variation. They don't want to explore any of them. They just want to sit in their idiotically rigid insecure mindset and say it's a question of Indian secularism.

Their assumption that Pakistan is a religious fanatic state is absolutely ridiculous - except in instances where people like this [referring to the Pakistanis engaging in violent protests over the issue of the Danish cartoons] but even then they do not represent the huge majority- these madmen who are on the streets. It's a very intense vocal minority. The large majority are very sensible people. And we are not fanatics.

So to answer your question the reason for this is nothing but India's abject failure to realize what a great moment this is in history to try to resolve this issue. I can't see any other reason. Because we've done our utmost. (2006; bold emphasis added)

In Jabbar's words, 'India' comes across rather clearly as a 'bully' and as an 'aggressor.' One who, when push comes to shove, cannot be reasoned with. This hearkens us back to the days of partition and the perception amongst Muslim Leaguers of Congress Hindus. If the Muslim was wary of attempting to reason with the Hindu in an India not governed by the British and thus, as

Lieutenant-General (Retd.) Matinuddin suggests that "it was the animosity and bitterness of the

Hindus that created Pakistan", the 'Pakistani self' now feels that it is the 'Indian other' who has been dragging her heels and obstructing the achievement of peace and stability in South Asia by ending the conflict between these two nuclear rivals because of its own rigidity (2005).

This particular narration of the 'Indian other' is very much steeped in the debates that occurred during the freedom movement in British India in so far that the 'Pakistani self' feels that it is India's 'secular logic' that sees Pakistan, mistakenly, as a 'religious fanatic' while ignoring the fact that its own backyard isn't devoid of communal violence.

As an example of this sentiment consider Lieutenant-General (Retd.) Matinuddin's personal recollection of an incident where he was representing Pakistan at an international conference in Europe on nuclear-free zones. At this conference, the speakers had been asked to bring publications of their home organizations to put up as part of a conference display. He recalled that the Indian speaker had brought a book that talked about Pakistan's nuclear bomb as 137 an "Islamic bomb" while Pakistan's nuclear program had been driven exclusively by the need to enhance its own security in response to India's push to nuclearize (2005).

All participants I interviewed objected to India's portrayal of Pakistan through derogatory uses of religiosity. This is also a commonly held view in Pakistan. The primary theme in public discourse on India-Pakistan relations often points out the contradiction between India's disparaging of Pakistan in the global community as a nation inspired by an overzealous militant religiosity that represents a significant threat to India's national security23 while struggling with the problem of communal violence in her own backyard. In this articulation, India is often demonized as a bully- one with whom a neighborly relationship, as Lieutenant-General (Retd.) Matinuddin put it, can be shared or - but never really transpires given that animosities have become more entrenched with time and stand further complicated by India's obstinacy (2005). I asked him to provide an example of what he thought was India's unwillingness to compromise with Pakistan after his narration of the conference above. Lieutenant-General (Retd.) Matinuddin shared a story of a recent visit to India and his meeting in Delhi with Lieutenant-General Raghavan, head of the

Delhi Policy Group, in connection with a book he's writing:

So he said "You want to fight and take it [Kashmir] then go ahead and fight and take it. We're not giving it up." And we [i.e. Pakistan] have ruled out war as an option - quite rightly. And now of course even militancy has been ruled out. So now it's only a question of political support to be given to the Kashmiris. I'm not saying there might not be some militant activity via Nepal or India or the LoC but that is so minimal that it has no impact on the insurgency or the freedom movement in Kashmir. So if the militancy is not there and if war is not an option. If we are only to try and settle the issues through a dialog - in the dialog you can't make any impression on India. (2005)

In the narrative provided above by Lieutenant-General (Retd.) Matinuddin we encounter an 'Indian other' who is perceived as someone unwilling to listen. This portrayal echoes fears similar to those voiced by the Muslim League during the freedom struggle - the fear of Hindu domination in an independent, united India where the Muslims would have no recourse as a minority living amidst a significant Hindu majority. The only difference in a post-1947 South Asia is that now Pakistan seems unable to reason with India for the latter simply refuses to listen.

23 I explore the specifics of this claim in greater depth in chapter 5. 138

Perhaps s/he can get away with it given its sheer size especially in comparison to a punier

Pakistan? Here size, as indicated by the use of the word bully, is reminiscent of an overlap with the majority-minority argument of the two-nation theory. If then coexistence was impossible, the problem is now cooperation? Why? Well, because India seems to turn a deaf ear on Pakistan just like the Hindus of British India would have done with the Muslims, or so goes the narration of the two-nation theory grounded in appeals to religious nationalism.

The question that begs to be asked at this juncture is why, despite a shared past and centuries of coexistence, are India and Pakistan unable to find a common ground for productive, fruitful dialog that progresses beyond talk of solutions to the implementation of concrete proposals designed to overcome issues of contention? After all, if coexistence brought them to separation, it was an arrangement that persisted for centuries following the arrival of Muslims in the Indian subcontinent. I raised this question with the participants interviewed in this chapter.

In the ethical imaginary of Pakistaniat, while there is an emphasis on the distinctness of a Hindu and Muslim identity that required political autonomy and independence, there is, simultaneously a recognition of the fact that the two neighboring countries are bound by a

"singular historical continuum" (Jabbar 2006). Although this is potentially a basis for forging a unity, there is a skepticism with which the intentions of the 'Indian other' are understood. Much like the paralysis induced in Pakistan by India at the time of partition through an unfair division of joint assets of which Jinnah spoke in the excerpt cited at the beginning of this section, Pakistan continues to imagine its Indian neighbor as someone who is willing to talk the talk but is never forthcoming in walking the walk. Lieutenant History referred to this as the "petty mindedness of the Hindu Indian who screams fowl because we [i.e. Pakistan] look to religion for our identity in constructive ways which a power-hungry India simply can't comprehend in any manner other than using its religiously mandated hatred for us Muslims" that is "painfully obvious" in "daily life in something as small as their refusal to eat with the same spoon as us or to keep separate glasses for us to drink from" as the basis with which to "behave like an enemy" and "bully us aggressively" 139

(2005). Rashida too echoed similar sentiments towards the end of one of my many conversations with her:

Their [i.e. India's] hatred blinds them. They can't see that we've extended a hand of friendship. They continue to behave in ways that is bound to make our blood boil. And when we retaliate they call us terrorists.

Hell they call us terrorists even when we've done nothing. But they have a global loudspeaker so the world thinks they're right. But I know what the truth is.

The truth is that Hindustan is too small-minded. Their hearts are too small. And in those hearts there wasn't place for Muslims and there can certainly never be place for Pakistanis. And so they beat the drum of secularism and call us religious fanatics.

Tough to be friends when someone hates you, no? (2004; bold emphasis added)

The skepticism voiced by these participants is bears a strong similarity to the rhetorical exchanges surrounding the ethical imaginary of the two-nation theory. Hindus and Muslims, try as they might, fail to get along - not only because they are distinct, but, as the Pakistani ethical imaginary understands it, because a Hindu India continues to be unyielding and obstinate. In this vein, the logic of the stories shared in this section parallel the freedom movement in British India.

Although, at first, the Muslims demanded political autonomy within united India, they were later forced to abandon reconciliatory attempts and demand an independent nation. Similarly,

Pakistan's desire to establish peaceful, friendly relations with India are bound to be futile if India itself does not desire to recognize Pakistan as a legitimate nation just because the latter's identity is based on religious grounds - something that India deems unpalatable much like Nehruvian denials of the very legitimacy of the idea of Pakistan. With someone who questions your very existence and resorts to petty complaints about 'fanaticism', try as you might, it is no less than a

Herculean challenge to forge an amicable relationship with this 'other'.

To summarize the findings of this chapter then, the ethical constitution of Pakistani-ness remains very much influenced by the logic of the two-nation theory- since Pakistan is an outcome of the articulation of its definitive distinctness from a Hindu India, a claim denied by the latter through appeals to secularism and its portrayal of religious bases of affiliation in negative 140 terms such as fanaticism and fundamentalism, India is bound to continue to hate Pakistan and threaten its security. However, this does not, by any means, render an articulation of the 'Indian other' as 'enemy' inevitable but it does reveal the fault lines in which the India-Pakistan relationship is emergent in which the specter of 'security' haunted a Muslim minority in British

India and that continues to be perceived as a significant threat by a Pakistan whose size is significantly smaller than that of its Indian neighbor. While peace is certainly imaginable and desirable, and something to which the 'Pakistani self' sees itself as committed, its achievement continues to be disrupted by the 'bully' with whom coexistence was deemed unfathomable by the

Muslim League and who today represents a huge challenge to Pakistan's security.

I now turn to chapter 5 in which the ethical imaginary of lndianhood will be explored contrasted against the 'Pakistani other' through in-depth interviews with Indian Muslims. CHAPTER 5

THE OTHER WITHIN II: ARTICULATING 'INOIA'

This chapter turns to first-hand interviews with Indian Muslims to locate the ethical imaginary of lndian-ness in relation to a 'Pakistani other'. In my conversations with the participants included in this discussion, the topics I drew on to understand how Indian national consciousness shapes articulations of the 'Pakistani other' included: experiences and/or memories of partition; Hindu-Muslim relations in India as well as their impact on the India-

Pakistan equation; Pakistan's stance on the Kashmir dispute; communalism; and, the very notion of 'Pakistan' as a nation.

The discussion contained herein proceeds in three sections as follows. First, I provide a brief historical background of the Muslim community in India to help provide a contextual anchor to the discussion that follows. The second section is devoted to an analysis of the bounding practices in which 'India' and the discourse of 'lndian-ness' is articulated through the very being of the 'Indian Muslim' as a reminder of the 'Pakistani other' within the nation. Finally, this chapter concludes with a discussion of the implications of the ways in which lndian-ness is articulated for the equation that is the relationship shared by Pakistan and India with a special emphasis on the peace process that was initiated in 2003.

The Indian National Narrative: Of Unity and the Question of the Indian Muslim

The term 'Indian Muslim' - referring to Muslims who decided to continue living in India instead of migrating to Pakistan following independence in 1947 - is fairly self-explanatory unlike that of the 'Pakistani Muhajir' which required a more detailed historical discussion. Nonetheless,

141 142

a brief historical backdrop vis-a-vis the primary nationalist narratives that emerged in India will

help provide the contextual details necessary to understand the relationship and importance of

turning to this liminar population to get a sense of how and why the 'Pakistani other' figures into

the Indian national imagination in the ways that it does and how that, in turn, shapes India­

Pakistan relations.

If the confrontation between the position of the Indian National Congress and the All­

India Muslim League had taken center stage on the theater of the freedom movement, August

1947 ushered in a new moment in the negotiation of the Indian national self. While the drama of

the freedom movement had been far from complicated, both India and Pakistan, within their new

boundaries faced new debates about their identities as nation-states. As August 1947 drew

closer, many Muslims in India began their migration to what they expected would be the Pakistani

state as negotiations continued between the British government, Indian National Congress, and

the All-India Muslim League. Hindus and Sikhs made their way from the area that would come to

be known as Pakistan to present-day India. The announcement of the boundaries of the two

nation-states on August 17, 1947 saw further chaos, confusion, and worst of all, an escalation of communal violence that had already taken a bloody turn in the months leading up to partition. On this date, individuals who had chosen to stay put, as it were, expecting that their village or city

would be awarded to India or Pakistan found themselves on the wrong side of the border.

Once migrations of huge masses of people came to a close and trickled to a more

sporadic occurrence, the demographic nature of what had been British India had changed

drastically. If the Muslim community had constituted a quarter of the population of British India, in

post-partition India the numbers tallied to a mere 10% (Gupta 1962, 356). In East Punjab, these

numbers dwindled to an insignificant 2% while other Muslim centers such as Uttar Pradesh,

Bihar, and West Bengal saw a reconstitution such that the percentage of Muslims that remained

in these areas stayed at about 15%-20% (Brass 197 4, 273). The reason for these migrations as

well as the decision to stay back in India reflected both choice and circumstance. Some went 143 because they believed with their heart and soul in the promise of a separate homeland for

Muslims. Others migrated primarily for strategic reasons such as better job prospects. Yet many others stayed back in India, irrespective of how they felt about the promise and dream of

Pakistan, because they were too settled in their present worlds that uprooting their entire existence would only be economically impractical or unwise given security concerns as incidences of murders, hate killings, and rapes continued to rise.

While migrations to Pakistan resulted in the formation of a new ethnic community within

Pakistan in the form of the Muhajir, in India this led to the recognition of a new minority- the

'Indian Muslim'.

Paul Brass argues that the consequences of the emergence of the Indian Muslim as a minority in post-partition India were much more far-reaching than numbers alone in so far that their imprint on the political reality of the Indian Muslim can be felt even today (1974, 182).

In the post-partition order, the Indian Muslim found himself/herself in a comparatively less advantageous position losing both economic ground and political privilege in the wake of mass migrations to Pakistan that left the Indian Muslim without a majority in any of the states of present-day India (Pandey 2006; Tan and Kudaisya 2000). The Indian Muslim also became both a victim and perpetrator of violence at and close to the time of partition. These events led to a widening of the chasm between Hindus and Muslims thus worsening relations that had already become rather acidic in the wake of the Pakistan Movement as well as the violence of partition

(Metcalf 1995; van der Veer 1994). The response to these developments galvanized around two responses by India's political leaders. The first was espoused by Nehru who maintained that the secular ideals of India must be held high at all costs in a statement on the status of the Indian

Muslim in a partitioned India:

India is a secular nation which guarantees equality of citizenship to people of all religions. We consider our Muslim population - we have some fifty million of them - as part of our nation, the Indian nation, and not some other nation. We have Hindus, Muslims, Sikhs, Christians and other religious communities, and we obviously cannot consider them as different nationalities. Such an approach would be absolutely fatal from our point of view. If we consider this two-nation theory which Pakistan is sponsoring, what happens to our 144

Muslim population? Do we have to consider them as a different nation just because they have a different religion? The very concept is fantastic. It might lead to further trouble, division and disruption of the nation. (cited in Hasan 1997, 139).

Here we see Nehru sticking true to the beliefs and principles that formed the crux of the Indian

Congress' position during the freedom movement. It is the insistence upon a secular nationalism that is able to accommodate all religions into India's fold. It is this, argued Nehru, that must be upheld to stay true to 'lndian-ness' rather than descending into the "fantastical" notions ~bout

'religious separatism' that birthed Pakistan. If the Indian Muslim enjoyed protection under

Nehruvian ideology, there was also opposition to this notion from a Hindu brand of nationalism.

This second response was exemplified in the leadership of Vallabhbhai Patel, the country's first

Home Minister, who viewed "India's Muslims as hostages to be held in security for the treatment of Hindus in Pakistan" and on whom the onus fell to prove that despite their religious beliefs, they were patriotic Indians as opposed to sympathetic to the Pakistani nation and its causes such as the Kashmir dispute (Hasan 1997, 147-149). It is this very narrative that provided the justification for the Muslim League to wage a campaign for a separate Muslim homeland fearing discrimination and domination in a Hindu-majority India. Following partition, it is the articulation that legitimates discrimination of the Indian Muslim as well as Pakistan's claim that India is a state whose secular politics function as a hypocritical distraction from the oppressive and violent tactics of a Hindu majority that loathes and discriminates against all outside the fold of its belief system.

In addition to becoming a numerical minority following partition, the Muslims in India found their cultural identity under increasing attack by those who aligned themselves with the philosophy of Vallabhbhai Patel. The most notable example of this has been the state of the Urdu language in India (Hasan 1997).

While Muslims have clung on to Urdu as their langua~e, Hindu nationalists have targeted it as a language of the 'Pakistani other'. This. also helps pronounce the loyalties of the

Indian Muslim suspect in that s/he claims Urdu as his/her mother tongue. The Hindu nationalist campaign to rescind the status of Urdu as an official language has, therefore, relegated Muslims 145 to a position of weakness from where progress in the social, cultural, and political milieu of India remains inaccessible given that they remain proficient in Urdu (Hasan 1997, 157-160). It is important to note here that while colloquial Hindi and Urdu, as spoken by the average person, sounds almost alike the script in which the two languages are written are completely different. In this context, then, Muslims are rendered illiterate for positions that require them to be able to write

Hindu as opposed to Urdu.

Furthermore, in the last two decades, a growing commitment to the philosophy of the

Hindutva movement has not only cast doubt over the secular philosophy of Indian nationalism but has also profoundly altered the status of the Muslim in the society (Metcalf 1995). Ongoing hostilities between Pakistan and India have only served to create more challenges and hurdles in the way of the Indian Muslim.

While India enjoyed the advantage of staking claim to a name with which was attached

1 a centuries old past , this by no means rendered mute lingering questions and doubts about the boundaries of the 'national self'. In fact, independence provided a different set of circumstances in which questions about the unity that was the Indian nation had yet to be resolved. Several factors prevented the possibility of easy answers. Most notably, there still remained a sizeable Muslim population in India even after the dust of mass migrations had settled. Was the decision of these people to stay evidence of their commitment to a united India? Or was it that they simply had been unable to find the means to migrate? If so, could they be trusted as patriotic Indians or would they be the 'Pakistanis within' that would have to be watched with the kind of suspicion that perhaps negated the openness of Gandhi and Nehru who had declared that anyone who wished to stay back following partition would be considered an 'Indian'? Alongside the Muslim question

1 For Pakistan, the uncertainties in which independence was birthed translated into a confrontation between, first and foremost, competing visions of Pakistan as an 'Islamic state' versus a 'homeland for the Muslims'. Both articulations of Pakistaniat vied for attention and sought legitimacy in being the more humane, appropriately Islamic interpretation of the identity of this new state. Drawn into this mix were debates about ethnicity, language, land, rituals, etc all circumscribed within a larger concern of authenticity in the realm of faith. 146

lay another reality that proved uneasy for the secularism of the Indian National Congress that had come into power following independence - Hindu nationalism. It wasn't just Muslim separatists who subscribed to the two-nation theory but nationalist Hindus inspired by the ideas of writers like

Savarkar who believed very much in the civilizational differences that separated Hindus and

Muslims (Brass 1994). The latter has spawned the Hindutva movement that has actively engaged

in a program of reverse conversion to bring the Muslims back into the Hindu fold and attacked even the secular ideology of India as too tolerant of deviance and injustice caused by minorities, especially the Muslims who betrayed their connection to the land through their conversion and subsequent identification with a land far away from Indian soil i.e. Saudi Arabia which is considered the birthplace of Islam.

Thus, even in the Indian national narrative, despite its emphasis on a secular logic that sought to bring all faiths and castes under one umbrella, emerged a dilemma whereby unification was not seamless or uncomplicated despite repeated appeals to commonality of birth, land, ethnicity, language, etc as superior, secular, more rational bases for collective identification of

India as a democratic, pluralistic nation (Pandey 2006 and 1992). This is not to deny that India

has managed to forge a united national self. However, to the extent that memories of the freedom movement and debates over the two-nation theory continue to dwell as part of the Indian ethical imaginary, this certainly makes it difficult to define 'lndian-ness' and its boundaries through a

pristine secular logic of nation-ness. These challenges have emerged in various avatars

including: the question of caste discrimination; Sikh separatist movements; the status of the

protection of Urdu and other Muslim institutions like Aligarh University which is considered the

birthplace of the Pakistan Movement; debates over the incorporation of Muslim personal and family law within the Indian constitution, more specifically in the context of specific cases; and, finally, the most severe example of fissures within the unity in the form of Hindu-Muslim riots of which the carnage in Gujarat, the massacres in Ayodhya, the violence in Kashmir, and the

Mumbai riots are the bloodiest episodes. 147

Bearing the above history in mind, of particular interest to this investigation is the vilification of the Muslim in India as the 'Pakistani other' in the course of articulating an Indian national identity.

Popular slogans like "Hindustan mein rehna hai tau hum se mil kar rehna ho ga" (If you wish to live in Hindustan, you will have to live like us), "Hindustan mein rehna hai tau Sande

Mataram kehna ho ga" (If you wish to live in Hindustan, then you will have to raise the slogan

"Sande Matarm" which means "Victory to the Mother" where 'Mother' refers to 'Mother India), and

"Babar ki santaan: jao Pakistan ya kabristan" (Descendants of Babar - referring to the first

Moghul emperor - either go to Pakistan or the grave) exemplify both the strategies in which the

'Indian Muslim' is cast in the role of the 'other within' - specifically a 'Pakistani other'. This is a

'Pakistani/Muslim other' who held control over India for centuries and then later destroyed its territorial sanctity through a bloody division. A 'Pakistani/Muslim other' who, even after partition, remains a thorn in India's side given its continued designs on Indian territory through its 'fanatic' appeals to Islam.

Since the experience of the Indian Muslim proffers access to the ethical imaginary out of which 'lndian-ness', the 'Pakistani other', and 'Indian-Pakistan relations' are birthed, in the next

2 3 section, I present detailed excerpts of conversations I had with 11 Indian Muslims , including some partition survivors, on topics such as the construction of Indian identity, the 'Pakistani other', the logic of secularism, the legitimacy of India's claim as a plural unity, communal violence, and India-Pakistan relations especially the ongoing peace process. As with the previous chapter, these conversations have been organized thematically.

2 I encouraged participants to assign pseudonyms to themselves for me to use in the writing of the dissertation. Real names have been used only when participants insisted upon doing so. In the latter case, the individuals are publicly well-known figures - either public officials, political commentators, authors/writers, or celebrities - who insisted upon being able to retain their identity in print for personal and/or professional reasons.

3 Where relevant, I make references to conversations with other participants in addition to the 11 whose conversations are analyzed here in-depth. 148

Bounding 'India': The Experience Of The Indian Muslim

As mentioned above, since the Indian Muslim lies in the margins between the 'Indian

self' and, through faith, the 'Pakistani other', this site is a critical resource in understanding

precisely how the 'Indian self' and 'Pakistani other' emerge as distinct and how these articulations

are simultaneously constitutive of the India-Pakistan relationship. There is no doubt that such

cues can also be gleaned merely by examining references to the 'Pakistani other' in Indian public

discourse. However, the very ambiguity of the liminar's status in the national imagination provides

more detailed negotiations over the rationale for inclusion/exclusion as the case may be. This

then proffers better access to locating the ethical contours in which identities and political orders

are made meaning-tu// which is precisely what this dissertation project seeks to clarify.

In the remainder of this section, I detail the appeals in which the ethical imaginary of

'India' or 'lndian-ness' is bound in relation to a 'Pakistani other'. You will notice that a commitment

to secular nationalism as the superior basis of collective identification to which lndian-ness is

·bound runs through each of these.

Remembering Partition: The Dilemma Of Religious Nationalism

Partition continues to be remembered primarily as a blunder in the Indian national

imagination. It is worth noting that while the same event is referred to on the Pakistani side as

'azadl' or 'independence', in India the celebration retains a bittersweet feeling for while August

1947 brought with it self-rule, the accompanying vivisection of 'Mother India' - her batwara or

partition - also has had to be reconciled against the backdrop of a freedom movement that had

insisted upon an 'Indian' pride lasting millennia. This sense of being 'Indian' was very much

aligned with the territory that circumscribed pre-partition India. Thus, if 'Indian independence' is

associated with a reverent pride and earnest struggle of the true India and its inhabitants, it also

has to find a way to reconcile the territorial division which is chalked up to the waywardness of a 149

'Pakistan' whose follies and irrationalities are perceived as having divided up a union that had lasted for centuries and is, therefore, imbued with a transcendental truth violated by an 'other'.

This sentiment becomes evident in the form of denials, to varying degrees, of the legitimacy of the 'Pakistani other' through arguments about the artificiality of a religious divide as well as a condescending suspicion of Pakistan's religiosity cast more often as fundamentalism rather than as faith with the critical criteria being an understanding of statehood and its cousin, a collective identity like the nation, fashioned more along principles of rationalism associated with a modernity that was imported out of Western Enlightenment. To better understand this point, let me first take up the issue of the artificiality of this divide itself.

The basic principle of this claim is grounded in the belief that "religion, especially an exclusivist and supremacist concept of religion cannot be the basis of nationhood and statecraft"

(Kulkarni 2005). From this perspective, Pakistan, both as a nation and state that came into being as the consequence of the "follies of Partition", remains haunted by an "identity dilemma" and seeks to legitimate its existence in appeals to the "slogan of lslamisation" constructed around an

"anti-India identity" and a denial of the ideals of secularism that are implicitly assumed as superior for both their rationality as well as their perceived organic connection to the soil of the larger

Indian subcontinent (Kulkarni 2005). Logically speaking, this has to be the case if India's secular nationalism is to be capable of accommodating multiple faiths and ethnicities. It makes perfect sense that Pakistan, as the 'other' who violated the sanctity of the Indian territory, then to do so because of its irrationality - an irrationality spurred by the most nonsensical of claims vis-a-vis collective identity and nationhood in the form of 'religion'. This opposition to Pakistan's religiosity as illogical is rather aptly described in the words of one of my participants, Sayani, a partition survivor whose family was deeply involved in the independence movement and who gained fame as a radio and TV announcer in India:

And at what price we got this stupid division of India! There was no basis to it. Our languages are the same. Our cultures are the same. Our people are the same. I mean India has been such a wide open-armed kind of land where everybody who 150

came in became part of us. The Aryans, the Arabs, the Moghuls, the British, the Portuguese, the French. Everybody who came became part of us.

So - and there is no I think country in the whole world which had this kind of composite culture. And there was a fair degree of amity between everybody....

So in this unnatural kind of division of one great land there was never any good sense. Never any practicality. Never any justification at all for two separate nations....

So everybody who has been through that ... early togetherness when we were fighting for independence ... or has realized that as a student of history, as a student of politics, as a student of administration, as a student of humanity they are quite aware that all this was artificially created.

Now once that acceptance of the artificiality of that division is understood everything else falls into place. Especially art and culture. Right?

Now, just imagine. Mehdi Hasan, before he came to India, Lata and all our singers and all our music directors had all his music cassettes. He was the darling of everybody's heart before - much before - he came to India. Now of course he went to India from Rajasthan. That's another thing. But then when as a Pakistani singer came to India - he was already his expertise, his tunefulness, his allure had already been in our hearts before he came. Similarly, Ghulam Ali and all the other people who did come. (2006; bold emphasis added)

Inspired by a nostalgia of an undivided India, the dismissal of a religious divide finds its

logic in the "composite culture" that has continued to characterize lndian-ness for centuries in which multiple "languages" and "cultures" are embraced and amalgamated into a unified whole.

Here we see an appeal to the ancient past of India aligned with the preservation of territorial

integrity. This point is of particular importance in so far that the spatial symbolism of 'lndian-ness'

is inextricably intertwined with what Goswami refers to as the "transcendental mother goddess" in the form of a romanticization of the notion of "BharatMatci' or 'Mother India' investing the territory with a sacredness whose violation is likely to trigger ire and wrath on the part of the 'true Indian' endowed with an undeniable historical legitimacy (2004, 201 ). If invasions and occupations by

peoples from all over the world could not break up India, it is indeed unfortunate and worthy of

lament that 'Pakistan' was created. That India remained unified all this time also alludes to the fact that it is Pakistan's 'religious divisiveness' that is to blame rather than India's inability to accommodate this community; after all, if 'India' made peoples from all over the world her own 151 then it is only the inability of the 'Pakistani other' to amalgamate that violated the sacred space that was India. Thus, while independence asserts Indian pride, its flip side, partition, is a deviant outcome of a "wayward Pakistani brother" who "broke family bonds that history had preserved over the course of many lifetimes and generations" thus violating lndian-ness itself (Nasima

2006).

It isn't only a secular logic woven through the fabric of claims about 'combined' or

'composite cultures' that pronounce through Pakistan's religiosity as irrational. The deployment of religion, specifically, 'Islam' as a 'spiritual claim' based on inclusive principles of territorial and, hence, cultural allegiance across faith lines as opposed to militant appeals to a homogeneous nationhood demanding its own spatial reality that also constructs the 'Pakistani other' as illegitimate. For Sayani this conceptualization of Islam as a spiritual connection with God shared across faiths is evident in the 'Hinduness' that is very much a part of his identity as an Indian

Muslim:

As a Muslim who being a Gujarat, Kutch Muslim all our families have a lot of the Hindu culture in us. Maybe we've descended from the Hindus I don't know. But - or from Adam or whatever it is. But because of staying there we have a lot of combined culture. For instance, I believe in the - I've never been to Kutch - but I believe in the Old Kutch, the Muslim customs for weddings etc are the same as Hindus. The costumes are the same. The folk songs that are sung are the same. So what's the difference?

And the Ouran says - the first ayat is "Alhamdu Lillahi Rabbi-I-Alamin". It does not say "Rabbi-11-Muslimeen". "Rabbi-I-Alamin". The God of the whole Universe. Not the God of the Muslims. (2006; bold emphasis added)

In these words, Sayani constructs a vision of 'Muslim-ness' that is markedly different from the separatist logic espoused by the two-nation theory and the demand for a Muslim Pakistan that was detailed in the previous two chapters. Rather than appeals to a non-religious secularism,

Sayani articulates a modern secular nationhood that is very much cognizant of its own religiosity.

One in which the Indian Muslim, who is likely a Hindu convert, has a lot of Hindu customs in his own cultural repertoire thus suggesting an overlap between 'Hinduness' and 'Muslimness' in the

Indian context. It is, thus, through his/her very being, in fact, that Hindu-Muslim unity is inscribed in so far that Hindu practices are very much a part of being an Indian Muslim. 152

Sayani goes on to suggest that even the most Muslim of practices such as reading the

Quran refers to a God not only of Muslims but of the Universe in its entirety. These two claims combined reiterate the basic appeals to preserve the Indian union that were deployed during the freedom movement by leaders such as Gandhi and Nehru to persuade the Muslim League to withdraw its demand for a separate state. If the two-nation theory insisted upon the distinctness of the Hindu and the Muslim, the 'Indian' response to it appealed to a commonality that is birthed out of territorial allegiances, cultural practices, and a God who oversees all of humanity.

I probed Sayani further to understand the divisive impulse that shaped Hindu-Muslim relations in pre-partition India and continues to influence the India-Pakistan equation given the arguments he presented for unity and peace to which he responded:

I think there are two sources. (A) the corrupt who want to create confusion and then grab everybody else's land and property and money. And (B) the politicians who want to keep themselves in power keep on igniting the public players. What you call bharka diya [to incite]. "Islam is being threatened". "The Hindu faith is in danger, in turmoil." Arrey Hinduism and Islam are not small that they will fall into any danger or turmoil. God has given us all our religions. God has shown so many ways to everybody. Who are we to incite people unnecessarily? Create problems? And what happens with all this? The poor, straightforward, innocent people get slaughtered or get hit or get displaced. What have these poor people done? Nothing. Just because some corrupt either leader or politician or somebody or the other who are from our land or from the other land creates all these problems the poor people suffer. (2006; bold emphasis added)

In the excerpt above, Sayani paints a picture of religion and faith as a uniting force rather than a disruptive element. In the instances that 'religion' lies at the heart of conflict, such as the one between Hindus and Muslims in pre-partition India or even between India and Pakistan today, he attributes blame to manipulative strategies of a power-hungry brass that seeks to incite religious zeal in order to consolidate its own position as superior. Jinnah's vilification as a corrupt politician who broke up the Indian Union also becomes possible through this narrative as someone consumed by religion much like the Mughal Emperor (Ahmed 2005). If in the case of Aurangzeb, India lost its freedom to the British, under Jinnah's leadership of the

Muslim League India came to be divided; in both, the reality of the space that is India was altered forever in ways that are associated with 'loss' and 'sorrow'. This basic plotline of this script in 153 which Jinnah and those who fought for partition are cast in the role of a 'loathed enemy' revolves around the fight between a secular good - in the form of a spiritual notion of faith that seeks commonality and the greater appeal of India's ability to amalgamate multiple cultures and communities in her fold - and the evil that is produced when religiosity defines nation and state - that is symbolized by a 'deviant Pakistani' consumed by the illogic of a dangerous religious zeal - is what explains India's partition and her subsequent relations with a Pakistan that once broke its unity and continues to threaten its territorial integrity through terrorist acts and the dispute over

Jammu and Kashmir.

While Sayani's words seem relatively polite, Farheen, a Kashmiri human rights lawyer whom I interviewed in Delhi, went a step further discrediting the very notion of Pakistan as

'Islamic' much more aggressively:

Well I don't know much about this. If one reads history, whatever history we read in India, it was a religious division. But it somehow does not seem to be very very clear to me now. In India, I think we have more number of Muslims than you have in Pakistan. So if that is the status quo the argument in favor of a religious division doesn't make much sense to me. (2006; bold emphasis added)

Farheen here echoes a very popular sentiment in Indian national discourse about the validity of the claim of Pakistan as a country made for Muslims. The mere fact, as Farheen points out, that the total number of Muslims in India exceeds that of Pakistan is a testament to the superiority of the 'Indian' claim about what another participant, Nasima, describes as "proof positive that the claim of Pakistan as a Muslim homeland is bogus [for] if Muslims truly feared Hindu domination they would have left India in much larger numbers in 1947" (2006). This claim also lends credence to the more Nehruvian and Gandhian arguments that Muslims were and would continue to be free to be Muslim/Islamic in a united India thereby negating Jinnah's and the Muslim

League's insistence upon the legitimacy of the two-nation theory in which the demand for an independent Pakistan was advanced to protect a Muslim minority from domination by a Hindu majority that already hated it. If Muslims chose to stay on in India, and that too in large numbers, stands as an ever-present challenge to the very logic of 'Pakistaniat.' 154

Nasima, in response to a follow-up question that I posed on religious nationalism, went

on to argue that ''faith is a private matter" and that it "ought not govern a public, political identity

like that of belonging to a nation" (2006). She added that nationalism is intimately connected to the matter of birth in that "Islam teaches us to live in our motherland" (Nasima 2006). Thus, in this

nationalist imagining, the notion of religious nationalism legitimates a united India as opposed to the separatist movement that launched Pakistan for it is religion, Nasima argues, that tells her

and other Muslims to love their "land" and the "soil" for this is where, according to "Allah's will, she

was born" (2006).

While Farheen, Nasima, and Sayani draw upon 'religion' to legitimate 'India' as a

unique, composite space where multiple faiths and cultures dwell and whose individual identities

are very much influenced by each other such that religiosity blends into a polyreligious Indian-

ness, Riaz (2006) draws attention to a different perspective of 'Pakistaniat' and 'religious

nationalism' in the Indian national narrative in which perhaps the demand for a separate

homeland might be understood as justified. Specifically, he expresses sorrow over prioritization of

a "modern" and "secular logic" that has translated into the loss of 'Muslim identity' as experienced

and expressed in Bombay/Mumbai in contrast to the Muslim in Delhi or in Pakistan where the culture of Islam has been preserved:

In Delhi, Muslim culture is still very alive. No matter what changes come and how the culture changes the elements of being Muslim still remain. Bombay is not like that. The Muslim in Delhi is very different from the Muslim in Bombay. The Muslim in Delhi hasn't changed his basic Muslim traits. The Muslim in Bombay has no identity as a Muslim - he's lost that.

See I feel that a Muslim should be recognizable by small things also like the way he speaks. Now a Muslim from Delhi will say things like lnshAllah, MashAllah, and will thank Allah. But a Muslim in Bombay will never be caught dead saying those things. They think they are secular and modern. They've begun to hate their own kind by disowning their own Muslim identity. You don't have to say you're a Muslim but your manner of speaking and your mannerisms should show that you're a Muslim. That's not only pride but it's also about obedience to Allah.

See for example when the Pakistani cricketers come here they always say Assalam-o-alaikum. That's a good thing. An Indian cric!ceter will never do that. When the Pakistani cricketer makes a century or is asked about winning a match he will say things like lnshAllah and MashAllah'. An Indian Muslim cricketer will 155

think it's all about him - Allah has no place in his life, in the way he behaves, in the way that he talks. That's bad. I don't like it.

We should never finish our identity. We should take pride in it. We shouldn't be scared thinking that people will think we are Mohammedan. We should always remember it. It should be a part of us. That's what I like about Pakistan - it has preserved its Muslim identity.

If a Muslim doesn't do these things and betrays his identity, then I feel angry. If you lose who you are what's the point? You should preserve it wherever you are and whatever time you live in and whether you are modern or conservative.

In fact, honestly, I feel with my heart and I believe that this whole hullabaloo about being modern and secular has finished the Muslim identity in places like Bombay. There that's why you see more hatred for Pakistan. They feel religion, being Muslim, is irrelevant. It's those feelings I think that in a sense those Muslims who fought for Pakistan stood against. We didn't go [to Pakistan] but we also believe in the importance of being Muslim.

But the Muslims who are here they hate other Muslims who practice or show their faith even in harmless ways. They want to finish that. That's why they hate Pakistan. (Riaz 2006; bold emphasis added)

Riaz's words exemplify the sentiments voiced by several participants who felt that they had borne the brunt of religious discrimination in an India governed by the logic of Hindutva whereby the

Muslim's lndian-ness is continually held suspect ands/he is seen as aligned with the 'Pakistani enemy'. These individuals often belonged to a lower economic status and felt increasingly vulnerable to a "demonic and obsessive Hindu Indian" who "blinded by their hatred for the

Muslim" continued to "erect obstacles in the way of [their] progress as well as peace" (Shahid

2005).

In the excerpt of Riaz's interview provided above, we see the importance of preserving

Muslim identity which was the primary concern that spurred the All-India Muslim League's demand for an independent Muslim homeland in the form of Pakistan; the motivation was to protect the Muslim from Hindu domination to prevent his/her Islamic culture and identity from oppression and, eventually, obliteration. Riaz's words deploy the logic of the two-nation theory in a manner that confirms these fears as well-founded. Bombay, overcome by a quest to secularize and modernize, has, as Riaz maintains above, lost its Muslim identity unlike Delhi where it is still visible. This point is of particular import in that Bombay has been the site of extremely violent 156

Hindu-Muslim riots that occurred between December 1992 and January 1993 in the wake of the demolition of the Babri Mosque in Ayodhya by Hindu extremist groups. Close to 900 Muslims were killed as a result of communal violence and about 200,000 were displaced from their homes as they ran to safety (Bunsha 2006). In March 1993, Muslim groups are said to have retaliated against this massacre by detonating bombs throughout Mumbai with the alleged assistance of

Pakistani elements (Bunsha 2006). After the violence subsided, the demographics of the city of

Mumbai were significantly altered as Muslims and Hindus relocated to areas where those of their ilk were in majority. The Justice Srikrishna Commission that was established to investigate these riots later declared that while this violence was indicative of the present of communalism in the region, the secular and modern spirit of lndian-ness continued to hold strong (India Today [New

Delhi, India], 25 January, 2007). In July 2008, three members of the Hindu party, Shiv Sena, which subscribes to the Hindutva ideology where India is seen as a Hindu nation despite its insistence upon a secular nationalism, were convicted on charges for inciting the deadly violence that led to these riots in 1992-1993 (VOA News[New Delhi, India] 3 August 2008). The participants I interviewed in Mumbai, no matter which end of the spectrum they found themselves vis-a-vis the question of the legitimacy of the religious nationalism on which Pakistan was founded, all commented that post-1992, the politics of the state of Maharashtra continue to be defined by the local government that is increasingly in control of extremist Hindu elements such that a communal confrontation has become inevitable. Most, however, asserted that this was not an issue in so far that India's secular, modern spirit would likely triumph over these sporadic moments of religious discrimination. In their worldview, such extremist elements reflect the ideology of the 'Pakistani other' in so far that they subscribe to the notion of a religious nationalism which really has no place in the fabric of the Indian nation. Nonetheless, I too was struck by the stark differences in the performance of the identity 'Muslim' in Mumbai as compared to 'Delhi' that Riaz points out. 157

If the Muslim in Delhi spoke pristine Urdu and greeted you with an "Assalam-o-alaikum",

I found myself noting the absence of the same in Mumbai. That Delhi was the capital of the

Muslim Mughal Empire perhaps speaks to the deeper entrenchment of Muslim customs in this space as compared to Mumbai which has come to be defined by the Hindu-Muslim confrontation more so following the riots of the early 1990s and its proximity to the Gujarat region where the

Hindu-Muslim problem has produced ongoing violence. Delhi's proximity to the state of Punjab also produces several linguistic and cultural affinities with its Pakistani counterpart. On a personal note, while I found that the majority of the participants I interviewed in India possessed a skepticism or suspicion/mistrust, if not outright hatred, for the 'Pakistani other', I found myself, as someone of Pakistani origin, much more welcome in Delhi than in Mumbai. I felt that I fit in more easily and did not hesitate to obliterate any traces of Muslimness I display in mundane everyday things like greetings, pronunciation, and vocabulary.

To return, however, to Riaz's statement, it is the logic of secularism and modernity that has created the Muslim as a sort of invisible entity in Delhi as compared to India. This Muslim has erased any markers of his religious identity and now lurks undetectable within a multi-faith environment. While other participants, as I will describe in the last sub-section of this discussion, celebrate this as a triumph of the secular spirit of an India that plays host to multiple faiths, participants like Riaz and Shahid locate a loss of their ' Muslim self' within the national space of

'India'. This response speaks to the fears voiced by Muslim leaders like Jinnah, Iqbal, and Sir

Sayyid Ahmed Khan of the inevitable disappearance and/or subjugation of the Muslim in a Hindu dominated India. Riaz also turns to cricket to elaborate on this loss in Mumbai contrasting the speaking habits of Indian Muslim and Pakistani players. While the former takes pride in his skill, the latter remembers to thank Allah; for Riaz this is a crucial distinction with the Pakistani scoring higher points in his books in so far this his Islamic habits remain preserved and nurtured. In this vein, implicit in Riaz's words, is a skepticism of the secular logic of India. If for someone like 158

Sayani and Farheen it preserves lndian-ness, for Riaz, that it does so at the expense of his

Muslim-ness is worthy of lamentation and sorrow.

Riaz also ties this erasure of "lslamic-ness" and "Muslim-ness" with a hatred for the

'Pakistani other' arguing that within a secular logic, an Islamic/Muslim Pakistan is bound to be viewed with 'hatred'. On the surface, this claim seems to go against the very grain of the kind of accommodation that a secular spirit entails. After all, it is a polyfaith lndian-ness that was made for all religious groups unlike Pakistan which was made in the name of Islam. However, as Nandy reminds us, the logic of secularism has fanaticism or fundamentalism as its twin and vice versa and should not be regarded solely as a monolithic discourse inspired solely by traditional

European conventions of statehood without paying attention to the variances introduced by differing spatio-temporal contexts (?006, 97). Secularization in the Indian context, argues Nandy, created a whole slew of stresses through the processes of urbanization, democratization, and modernization that repealed intimate connections and replaced them with the anonymities of fragmented ties such that instead of being able to perform one's identity as a "Christian belonging to the MarThoma Church ... [in] Kerala" one is forced, instead, into a more generic "Christianity"

(2006, 97-98). This vagueness and detachment, for Nandy, whereby one's faith is packaged in generic format as broadly Christian or Hindu or Islam "provides a framework within which the earlier soft, fuzzy 'secularism"' that, in Gandhian fashion, entailed tolerance of other faiths and did not relegate the faith quotient as outside of the sphere of politics, is now replaced by "more powerful but narrower forms of history, political culture, and even shared prejudice about how the experience of the past can be interpreted" thus paving the way for "standardized forms of history, populated by generic actors such as the Hindus and the Muslims, and the emphasis shifts to historical eras in which one faith oppressed, ruled over, or humiliated another" (2006, 98-99).

Thus, even in secular mindset where religion is very much a part of the individual's identity as well as the collective ethos with whom s/he identifies, the distancing created by a modern way of life in which intimate ties with local communities are severed jt is the stereotypes 159 of the 'other' that exist unhampered in one's imagination that become the basis of relating with

him or her thereby facilitating greater religious intolerance and fanning the flames of communal violence. Consequently, secularism in the Indian national narrative, while espousing tolerance on the one hand has also enabled, with a rather fanatical spirit perhaps, a discrimination of the

'other' who is seen as a 'threat' or challenge to 'lndian-ness'. More specifically, a 'Muslim',

whether Pakistani or Indian, comes to be closely identified with someone who violated the territorial integrity of India or, worse, BharatMata, with its own brand of religiosity. This 'other', then, is not to be trusted and is very much ousted with suspicion in a modern, secular Indian national imaginary.

To conclude, the articulation of a less popular response to religious nationalism within the Indian national imaginary, as clarified by Riaz and Shahid, given their implicit defense and

perhaps even some measure of romanticization of the logic of the two-nation theory, stands in stark contrast to the suspicions aroused of the 'Pakistani other' whose 'religiosity' is seen as

'militant' and 'fanatic' from a vantage point that contrasts the secularism of the Indian project of nationhood and statecraft as superior to the backwardness and fanaticism of Pakistan's 'Islamic-

ness'. It is the specific articulation of the 'Pakistani other' within the ethical imaginary of Indian-

ness to which I turn in the next sub-section.

Secular Skepticism: The Pakistani Other in the Indian National Narrative

Building on the same theme of religious nationalism as the previous sub-section, this discussion takes a slightly different turn as it veers from a focus on partition to a conversation about the ways in which the 'Pakistani other' is more generally constructed in the Indian national imagination.

What emerges in the course of this conversation are two characterizations that figure prominently in the Indian national narrative - that of the 'Pakistani other' as 'betrayer' and as

'religious fanatic'. I explore each of these in turn below. The construction of the 'Pakistani other' 160 as someone who 'betrayed' its own, i.e. India, is inextricably intertwined with a feeling of condescension towards religious nationalism as explored in the previous sub-section. This particular articulation insists upon other allegiances as a basis of 'nationhood' and 'identity' most notably that of land. A sampling of relevant excerpts from my interviews will help illustrate this point:

Like I said, in a few years there will be no Pakistan. I'm a Muslim. But I have no love lost for Pakistan. Why should I? They have no love lost for us. They betrayed us and left. Why? Because they had gotten it into their heads that India is not a land for Muslims. That's all! That's it? Nothing else mattered to those power-hungry Muslims? They beat the drum of religion and went away. If they were so concerned about their Muslim brothers why did they just go away? Betrayers - all of them! (Ashraf 2006; bold emphasis added)

As far as my understanding of Islam goes, Islam doesn't say you wage a war against a nation where you are born. Because you are born in a nation by the will of Allah. I am a Kashmiri and an Indian because it was Allah's will that I be born here. I could have been a Pakistani if He wanted me to be one .... If Pakistanis became a nation, it's because they betrayed their faith in Islam and this belief. They weren't loyal to this land and left. Now they continue to fight us. They don't do so in the name of Islam like they say. The only time you are supposed to protest as they say they do is when somebody compels you from not practicing your religion. And nothing like that is happening in our country so how can they be fighting for their Muslim brothers? Rubbish! Our country is a very democratic country. I think it is one of the only countries in the world where we have a constitutional right of not only practicing but also professing or propagating any religion of our choice. So this is not a religious fight like Pakistan says. They continue to betray the land whose womb gave them life. Pakistan emerged from the womb of BharatMata and drove a sword into her only! What is this if not betrayal under the false pretense of Islam? (Saima 2006; bold emphasis added)

We are Indians first, then we are Mohammedans. That is what we believe. That is what Islam teaches. Where you are born is your motherland. We are loyal to our motherland. Pakistanis believed they were Mohammedans first so their relationship with the motherland was different. They weren't loyal. Still we don't hate Pakistan. They are our people. They went from here to there. (Salahuddin 2006; bold emphasis added)

I had never thought about moving to Pakistan. Our religion tells us to live in our motherland. This is our land, our soil, where we were born. So we love this place. We can't have that love for any other place. That would be betrayal. That's what Pakistan did to India. Even the Moghuls who brought Islam to India were loyal to her. Not the Pakistani. (Nasima 2006; bold emphasis added)

Here the very fact of migration and the carving out of a new spatial territory from within the "womb of Mother India" as Saima argues are narrated as a tale of 'desertion', 'separation', and 'betrayal.' 161

The very fact that a Pakistan exists and that Muslims went from India to this land is proof positive of the fact that this 'other' betrayed the 'Indian national self' by disrupting its spatial continuity through a separatist movement based on a notion of religious nationhood that is illegitimate and false. Implicit again is the superiority of the 'Indian' national narrative as the one that is 'loyal' both to its past as well as the land that is Mother India. It is the 'Indian self' that can accommodate continuity with the past as well as love and respect for the 'land'. Unlike the 'Pakistani other' overcome by its unhealthy obsession with religion, the 'Indian self' is capable of finding place for all its 'others' argue all the participants above. Even the Moghuls, argues Nasima above, who came from another land adopted this land as their own unlike Pakistan who violated its sanctity through partition (2006). In this vein, another participant, Kamran, cast Pakistan in the role of

"wayward brother" or "bigoted son" whose religiosity served only to mask its "disloyalty to India" thus rendering it merely a "farce" that is "no longer part of the mainland" (2006). The 'Pakistani other', therefore, in its misuse of 'religion' has gone against all principles of 'lslamic-ness' itself by

'betraying' its own 'Mother' i.e. the land of India.

However, there is also a temporality that mediates the script of Pakistani betrayal as became evident in my conversation with Nasima:

We don't hate Pakistan. We have no reason to hate Pakistan. Those who saw the looting and killing at the time of independence might have some grievances. But we are too far removed from that. However, yes there is one exception. When someone engages in brainwashing us or making up stories that try to incite us. Like you know some people here, especially those who were alive to see what happened in 1947, will say that people in Pakistan hate Indians. They think that way because the Muslims went away from here and broke up India. So in their hearts the hatred is inevitable. For us, it's a different story - a different history. So we don't feel that hatred. But yes if we keep being told by elders and politicians that the Pakistanis hate us, we will stop thinking of them as friends and neighbors. Instead, we too are bound to feel hatred or at least we won't have any sympathy or love lost for them. That'll disappear.

I think it's human nature. There are some things which make a person really emotional. At that moment, it doesn't matter what I believe as logical - it only matters what I feel. If they can get me to feel hatred for Pakistan, then it doesn't matter if I don't believe Pakistan is the enemy. So, for example, if someone tells me that I think of Pakistan as a friend but over there they hate Indians. Then of course I'm going to feel horrible. That might escalate into anger. It's a vicious cycle. But at it's very basic level, such things can't change the basic sentiment you see. We might feel hatred when 162

incited but things do calm down and you do gain control of your emotions and things go back to normal. (2006; bold emphasis added)

While there is no denial in her words of 'Pakistan' as 'betrayer,' Nasima simultaneously questions it as well, even if in a relatively muted fashion. We get the sense here that time perhaps heals all wounds. So, generations more removed from the event of partition are likely to be less affected, or not at all, by the horrific and traumatic experiences that marked that time period. In this vein, the question of "grievances" or imagining the 'Pakistani other' as 'betrayer' simply does not arise.

Unless, however, it is passed on as a memory from generation to generation that then becomes available to incite hatred during moments and interactions already tense. Nonetheless, these aggressions are likely to fade away and dissipate amongst those who did not experience the brutalities of partition first-hand, argues Nasima. Perhaps, for these generations, peace might not be such a tricky concept given that they are far removed from the bitterness that ensued in 1947.

However, Nasima points to yet another interesting argument: that while temporal detachment from notions of the 'other' as 'betrayer' can help neutralize the history of animosity, that this articulation does find resonance if the 'self' believes that the 'other' hates him/her. What is triggered, as a consequence of "brainwashing", are emotions in which hatred for the 'other' translates into orienting one's actions towards him/her as 'foe'.

Note that the narrative of betrayal finds legitimation in linkages drawn between 'religious fanaticism' and Pakistan's sense of nationhood. This is a critical distinction in the Indian national narrative. Suggesting that the 'Pakistani other' is a religious fanatic retains Muslim identity, albeit in a different avatar, within the confines of the Indian national narrative. As Salahuddin clarifies in the excerpts above, the Indian Muslim is first and foremost an 'Indian' and then a 'Mohammedan'

(2006). The Indian Muslim is qualitatively different in that s/he considers herself or himself an

Indian above all else. The Pakistani, however, isn't even appropriately Islamic, but, is rather tightly wound in an illegitimate form of religiosity that manifests itself as nationalist but is actually 163 of a fanatic variant that is held responsible not only for the failure of the Pakistani nation-state but also for the problems India has had to face in the form of terrorism it sponsors:

Pakistan will disintegrate. They lost Bangladesh in 1971. They'll now lose the rest. There can't be a unified Pakistan. There can't be you see because religion is not enough to glue a nation together . ... Nationalism is about land, language, things like that. About real things. It has nothing to do with religion or faith. That is a private matter. It has no place in politics. Like , Pakistan is a religious fanatic state. All that they're capable of doing is using it [religion] to demonize us [India]. That's all their religious fanaticism is good for. That and spawning terrorism .... Like I said, in a few years there will be no Pakistan. It will self-destruct because its foundations are false. Fanaticism is destined to destroy itself as it tries to kill others or conquer them in the name of God. India on the other hand will prosper because it was based on real nationalism - that is why it is a successful secular democratic nation. (Ashraf 2006; bold emphasis added)

Pakistan keeps attacking India - in Kashmir, through bombing our cities and all. We have to respond in kind to the enemy . ... We didn't start this fight - they did. But we won't back down. They call us Hindu fanatics. I'm not a Hindu. I'm a Muslim . ... They call me a Hindustani. They don't even see me as Muslim. So much for Muslim brotherhood! I have no love lost for Pakistan. As a Muslim, my allegiance is with India. I am first an Indian. Religion has nothing to do with it. But for Pakistan religion is everything and that will be its downfall. (Saima 2006; bold emphasis added)

I think within 5-10 years there will be no, as they call it now, Islamic Republic of Pakistan. There will be so many parts of Pakistan because they are a very weak nation. They have no agenda. No identity either. Religion isn't enough to keep a nation together. Bangladesh is proof that it is not religion that matters but ethnicity. Those are real differences. They are of the soil. That is what matters . ... I think the people in Pakistan are very very simple and silly. They are very emotional. ... Pakistan is responsible for creating the Taliban and for Afghanistan. They are religious fanatics. They are not part of the mainstream. Pakistan will cease to exist I'm telling you. (Kamran 2006; bold emphasis added)

In the excerpts above, there seems to be a consensus about the falsity of Pakistan's existence as a religious nation that is then linked to its eventual dismemberment. It continues the debates around the two-nation theory during the freedom movement in British India. More specifically, if the logic of secularism was used to defuse the possibility of partitioning India on the grounds that nations weren't organized around religious divisions, it is now deployed to argue the very illegitimacy of the "Islamic Republic of Pakistan" and denounce its "terrorist activities" designed to weaken and violate the sanctity of India's territorial integrity. The latter claim, in particular, is deployed to sanction any violence India seeks to commit against the "enemy'' that is 164

Pakistan on the grounds of self-defense. What is emphasized here is the "reality" of nationhood as appropriate when grounded in principles such as "language" and "ethnicity''. The emergence of

Bangladesh as an independent state in 1971 is cited as proof of the fact that 'religious nationalism' is a farce. After all, if Islam, as a religion, could be the basis around which nationhood can cohere, then East Pakistan/present-day Bangladesh would have continued to be part of the Pakistani Union. That there was a chasm that separated the Western half of Pakistan that spoke Urdu from the Eastern half that spoke Bengali reiterates that more 'organic' principles like 'languages' born "of the soil" and the "ethnicities" they cultivate as a consequence are certainly bases around which nationalist affiliations can be galvanized as opposed to a religion that was imported to India from foreign soil.

Whether conceptualized as a "betrayer" or "religious fanatic", at the heart of each of these articulations remains a sense of connection with the 'soil'. We also saw this element being deployed in the case of the Muhajir who is seen as the 'other within' in the Pakistani context because, cartographically speaking, his/her origins can be traced to present-day India. As a

Muslim majority area in British India and the region from which Islam entered the Indian subcontinent, the mythology of Pakistan has evolved as such so as to purify all 'Hindu-ness' or

'lndian-ness' to construct a teleological story of the spread of Islam in the region and the inevitability of the Islamic Republic of Pakistan. Thus, present-day Pakistan was always meant to be - the land of the pure purged from all Hindu/Indian influences. Consequently, those whose genealogies take them back to Indian soil, are 'outsiders'. Curiously enough, if Pakistaniat emphasizes its nationalism through a prioritization of that which is foreign in that it hails from the

Islamic world of the Arab and Persian regions, it is, rather ironically left to deal with the Muhajir, as the 'Indian other within', as a different kind of foreign that is unpalatable. In a similar vein, the

'Indian Muslim' stands as an 'alien' in so far thats/he belongs to a community that severed its ties and desecrated the sanctity of the soil of Mother India. It is this particular charge that is deployed by Pakistan to defend the legitimacy of its fears of Hindu domination and discrimination in so far 165 that the Indian national imagination casts its Muslims in the role of second-class citizens against whose lndianness remains suspect such that a Hindu nationalist can be religious or secular but a

Muslim was a Muslim and thus, as part of a "suspect minority" whose lndian-ness came to be increasingly mediated through what was perceived as an "extra-territorial attachment" grounded in religious affinities with the 'Pakistani other,' vulnerable to all sorts of discrimination by the state and its peoples (Pandey 2001, 153 & 168-169). The claim that counters this argument returns to

Gandhian responses to the two-nation theory in which India is imagined as a land where multiple faiths can coexist precisely because it is the secular response which can make this possible as opposed to the unidimensional reality of religious nationalism. While this sounds like a viable proposition, the violence that has ensued between 'Hindu nationalists' and 'Muslims', particularly since the 1990s as believers of the Hindutva political philosophy gained government representations, serves as a stark reminder that in practice things might be a tad complicated. It is this confrontation that informs the contemplations of the next sub-section.

Of Many, One or Of One, Many?: The Paradox Of Communal Politics

Is the 'Indian nation' a unity carved out of several multiplicities or is its unity fractured by their presence? The former position bespeaks of a multicultural optimism that, in pre-partition

India, campaigned for a unified India under the banner of the Indian National Congress. The latter, on the other hand, seems to align itself with attesting to the validity of the two-nation theory.

In the remainder of this section, I tackle each of these in turn.

Several participants spoke with pride, and a certain defensiveness, about the possibility that lndian-ness offers by way of allowing multiple faiths and communities to live alongside each other despite their differences. I offer an excerpt from my conversation with Saima as an example of this narrative. We spoke at length about the primary reason she and her husband decided not to migrate to Pakistan at the time of partition even though several of their family members did: 166

I did have the option of going to Pakistan. But honestly it was the fear of living in a place where everyone was almost exactly the same that kept me back. You've visited me now 3 or 4 times on this trip, right? You see my friends who come over. They're all of different faiths. We can grow together and learn from each other. You interviewed my sister in Karachi right? Now I love her but I think intellectually and even religiously I'm much more broad-minded [than my sister in Pakistan] because I grew up in a country with multiple faiths. I don't think I'd be a good Muslim if I'd lived in Pakistan. I wouldn't have had a chance to think through things if everything around me and everyone in my circle was the same. Pakistan would have been, that way, for us at least and for our kids, very restrictive. This was a better decision for us to stay here. We've been active in the Muslim community also - politically that is. So this was the better option. I took part in the freedom movement but I believed in the Indian unity not the religiosity of Pakistan (Saima 2006; bold emphasis added)

According to Saima, the "religiosity of Pakistan" simply does not, and cannot, offer the opportunity to "learn and grow" through interacting with those 'different' than oneself as is the case in India. It is by mingling with other communities that she considers pivotal in having made her a better

Muslim than her sister in Pakistan. I probed Saima about this further and she was of the opinion that her religious practices stemmed from critical thinking and negotiation enabled by her interactions with her Hindu, Parsi, and Christian friends whereas her sister's beliefs had been shaped by the narrow-minded, conservative adherence to rituals that she felt was characteristic of people from Pakistan (2006).

Similarly, Nasima maintained that her family decided not to migrate because they feared that living in homogeneity would lull them into a complacency about their lslamic-ness whereas living amidst those of multiple faiths would likely serve as a reminder of the "distinctness of their Islamic identity" (2006).

Here we see the virtues of cosmopolitan being espoused whereby being surrounded by difference provides an opportunity for improving oneself that 'sameness' simply cannot offer. If homogeneity offers comfort and security, it does so, we are told, at the expense of intellectual growth. This is a story of multicultural optimism. It reaffirms, albeit somewhat implicitly, the rejection of the two-nation theory by the Indian National Congress grounded in secular logic by suggesting that it is the Pakistani whose religiosity renders him/her less of a Muslim than an

Indian whose religious practices are derived not merely from blind faith but a more rational, 167 reasoned, and informed negotiation. It is this active engagement that Islam in India is painted as a better variant than the Pakistani iteration in that it is owned wholly by an individual who has, rather ironically perhaps, learnt to practice his/her faith much better than the person in the

Pakistani state made to protect Islam.

Running counter to this narrative, however, is the story of the Muslim who feels that s/he has been actively discriminated against because of perceived connections with a 'Pakistani other'. This, argues Riaz, is evident even in something as mundane as watching a cricket match

4 while he's working at his store :

I have to close my shutters and keep the TV volume very low. The goons who support Advani and all those anti-Muslim politicians come and beat me without any reason. Just because I'm a Muslim watching a cricket match between India and Pakistan doesn't make a traitor, a spy, a Pakistani. It's almost as if being Muslim means you're all of these things rolled into one. We have family in Pakistan but we don't know where they are. If we did, perhaps we would move. I wish my family had moved. Even if all Muhajirs are considered outsiders there at times, I'm sure that is not always the case. But here the story is different. To them, my Muslim name is reason enough to hate me, to maltreat me. (2006; bold emphasis added)

Riaz's story is one that resonated with many of the Indian Muslims I interviewed who remained on the lower rungs of the ladder of economic/financial success for whom perhaps their plight could explained along the lines of the All-India Muslim League's contention that the 'Muslim' in a united India would be reduced to a second-class citizen with no freedom and no identity

(Shaikh1989). Although they might not have migrated at the time of partition, these individuals subscribe to the idea that a Muslim in a Hindu-majority India does bear the brunt of discrimination as a minority thus echoing the basic message of the two-nation theory as put forward by the All-

India Muslim League. For example, Shahid had this to say about his experience as an Indian

Muslim:

They want nothing to do with us. They don't even think we are a part of them. Nobody cares ma'am. At worst, they treat us like termites always looking for an excuse to fumigate us from our own homes. At best, they leave us alone. But even when they leave us alone they leave us to die pretty much. The municipal authorities never come here. The last time we got proper water supply was at the time of the Kargil War. The

4 In both India and Pakistan, it is relatively commonplace to watch cricket matches or hear the audio commentary while at work. 168

floods have damaged our supply completely and after the war I think they feel so much hatred towards us that they don't want to fix it. If we need water, I have to walk 3 kilometers way to a hand-pump. Ma'am we're a family of 9 people. Just imagine how many times we have to go there! I'm getting old so my son goes. Sometimes my grandchildren go. They should be playing and studying in the afternoon but they walk in the raging heat to get water for the family. For the last 10 days, we've had electricity for only 2 or 3 hours every other day. Never at night. When I went to complain they said "Go back to Pakistan. Why are you still here?". Ma'am I was born here, grandfather was born here. We've been living here for generations. Yes my great-grandfather converted to Islam but this piece of land has been our home for centuries. Do I not belong because I pray 5 times a day? Why do they think this is more the home of that filthy guard at the municipal office who came from Pakistan in 1948 than mine? Just because he prays to Durga and I pray to Allah. Now you tell me? (2005; bold emphasis added)

The manner in which Shahid speaks of the ways in which the boundary is drawn between Hindus and Muslims in India stands in sharp contrast to what Saima and Nasima had to say. For the latter, the fact that there is a plurality of faiths in India provides them with an opportunity to become better Muslims through their contact with those belonging to other religious communities thereby permitted healthy debate and contemplation rather than blind, superficial following of rituals. In Shahid's case, overt discrimination against his Muslim-ness plagues the very survival of him and his family. In the world that he inhabits, the Hindu guard who prays to the goddess Durga is more acceptable to the 'Indian self' than he is despite the fact that Shahid and his family can trace their origins to 'Indian' soil for generations whereas this guard of which he speaks migrated to India a year after independence. That Shahid is a Muslim renders him outside 'India'; it pronounces him as the 'Pakistani other' in the eyes of the fellow Indians who constitute the locus of his world.

Riaz too spoke at great length and rather passionately about the problem of discrimination of Indian Muslims as a minority in a predominantly Hindu nation where being

'Muslim' renders one a "second class citizen" or, worse still, a "spy'' who might just be a "terrorist"

(2006). It is as if 'Muslim-ness' dwells in the Indian ethical imaginary as a constant reminder of the "betrayal" of "religious nationalism" in which the nation was divided and no longer retained its ancient glory. A glory that had remained unscarred despite foreign invasions but that was damaged by the 'religious nationalism' of the 'two-nation theory' put forward by the Muslims of 169

British India. That Hindu nationalists also seconded the notion of a civilizational divide between

Hindus and Muslims and agreed with the philosophical position encapsulated in the two-nation theory doesn't appear as a contradiction perhaps because in their articulation the territorial integrity of India matches the reality of a pre-1947 world order. This Hindu nationalist narrative is, in fact, perhaps even more militant in its insistence on othering the Muslim, both Pakistani and

Indian, as an outsider against whom India must be protected. This is evident in the description offered by Riaz of the policies of the BJP government led by Advani:

I think that some leaders came who fan the flames of hatred. The most notable of them was Advani. Anything bad happened here they'd make Pakistan the scapegoat. If a hurricane comes, even that was blamed on Pakistan! I mean they blamed Pakistan so much that it became a running joke that no matter what happens it's always Pakistan's fault. In India, that's the only one they can blame .... In India, the easiest thing to do is exploit the hatred for Pakistan because people believe that Pakistan broke India and like Nehru Ji said wants to continue breaking India. I don't think that is true. From what I know, Pakistan is now just Pakistan. They've gotten over what happened in 1947 but India really hasn't recovered from that. No matter how much progress is made, it all comes back to this one wound - that of the breaking up of India. (2006; bold emphasis added)

If the Muslim who ought to have stayed in India, broke up this very territory then s/he can do anything and is not to be trusted. Therefore, the Muslim Pakistani 'other', and by extension the Indian Muslim, comes to be constructed as a perpetual threat to the very security of

'India'. The religious association is in itself enough to arouse suspicion and pronounce the Indian

Muslim the target of nationalist pride for any connection with Pakistan is a connection with the

'other' who didn't respect Mother India herself.

This othering of the 'Indian Muslim' manifests itself in a myriad of ways including demographic cartographies, voting irregularities, consumer practices, patriotic/nationalist celebrations, and an ever-lingering suspicion of the Indian Muslim as 'terrorist' and 'anti- lndia'/'pro-Pakistan' as Riaz explains:

When the Kargil war happened people looked at us [Muslims] very strangely. We are Indian but because we are Muslim, like Pakistanis, they see us both as terrorists. I don't like that. It hurts. See if they were pointing at just one individual who happened to be a Muslim and had been found guilty of terrorist acts then fine. But they call a whole community terrorists unthinkingly. That's just hatred. Hatred against Muslims. It has nothing to do with reality. 170

Maybe it has something to do with reality. But if Muslims have engaged in terrorist activities, Hindus and Sikhs and Christians and Jews also do it. So you feel discrimination.

For example, at the time of elections you'll see problems with the voter list. Lots of Muslims were supposed to be on the voter list - they've even voted in past elections. But the new lists didn't have their names.

Even at the time of the Kargil war, they kept celebrating and grieving for the Hindu deaths but not a single person would mention the Muslim shaheeds [martyrs]. Who cares here if the Muslim dies?

1 When 15 h August comes they celebrate all the Hindu heroes. Our elders tell us about this man called Veer Abdul Hameed who fought against Pakistan for India and saved Delhi from being taken over by Pakistan. But no mention of him although he did such a big thing. They should take his name. They should build a monument for him. They don't because he's Muslim.

India is a secular democracy ma'am- a democracy with place only for the Hindu. The Hindu has no religion. His achievements are celebrated as Indian. Ours are tucked away lost in history - only because we are Muslim. So those Muslims who have fought for India's safety- whether against Pakistan or China or whomever - there are no parks or monuments or statues or roads commemorating them. (2006; bold emphasis added)

In this respect, the interpretive practices above highlight an argument in support of the All-India

Muslim League's position on the two-nation theory. The reason cited here, albeit somewhat implicitly, for the problems encountered by an Indian Muslim like Riaz is plain and simple: the

Hindu's dislike for the Muslim. It is for this reason that the Indian Muslim comes to be seen as a

'spy'. S/he is associated with the 'Pakistani other' by being rounded up as a 'terrorist' or through the presumption that s/he supports Pakistan rather than India on the battleground that is a cricket

match between these two rivals. S/he is pronounced 'unpatriotic' or 'un-lndian' on the basis of his/her faith.

Consequently, in the mosaic of everyday life in India, as the picture Riaz paints below of life in the Indian town of Kanpur, the Muslim finds it difficult to integrate and is considered unwelcome:

In Delhi, the difference between Hindus and Muslims is not that big an issue. But in UP - especially Kanpur it's a big problem. For example, there is a big Mohammedan market there. You won't see a single Hindu shopping there. The Muslim doesn't hate anybody. We go to their markets - we go with happy faces and open hearts to buy. Even 171

if they feel the hatred, we try our best to create situations in which they can overcome it. But no - they just don't want to. Unless they're really stuck, they won't come to our markets. The Hindus don't even pass by that road - that's how much they hate us. I live in lane number 3. Not a single Hindu passes by that lane. Now what can one do? How does one prove themselves? We rent homes from Hindu landlords. We buy from Hindu retailers. Because we don't hate them - they hate us. They call us unclean. Can't they see that our hearts are clean? Only a Muslim has such a pure heart to be honest. You can go bathe in every river but that doesn't make you clean­ hearted. They don't understand that - they're unwilling to recognize that. If we go to their homes for some reason they make us sit in a different area. They keep different dishes and utensils for us. We, on the other hand, give everyone the same respect no matter who has come in. We don't discriminate between a Muslim and a Hindu or a Sikh or whomever. The Muslim has no hatred for the Hindu. But, things are not the same with the Hindu. They do hate us. When these things happen it does hurt. My father would get very angry. He'd often say that he wished he'd left for Pakistan at independence - that would be better. We only stayed back because my brothers and sisters and I - there were 6 of us MashAllah - we were all very young and my parents didn't feel comfortable making that journey with such young kids. My mother told me that this market in Delhi - the Mohammedan market known as Chandni Chowk and even Paharganj - it was full of Muslim stores. When independence came, she said that the streets in that area were littered with dead bodies of Muslims who had been murdered brutally by Hindus and Sikhs in fits of rage. They looted their stores even. I think it was all about making oneself more powerful, more wealthy. When riots happen, some people lose their lives while others gain everything. All these people who participate in violence are motivated by self-interest and selfish gains. They just join the crowds hoping to make out like bandits. The person who is really affected won't be participating in the madness. He will be sitting on the side grieving. All these activists and slogan chanters are only looking to profit - they support no cause, no ideology. (2006; bold emphasis added)

The thoughts Riaz shares in the above excerpt reveal just how complicated and ingrained into everyday life difference can be.

The question that arises then is why, despite being part of a family that wanted to migrate to Pakistan and had relatives who did make that journey, did Riaz's family, like thousands of others, stay back in India?

Riaz informed me several times during the course of our conversation that his parents chose to stay in India because of the economic circumstances in which they found themselves.

Perhaps this is exactly the kind of story that creates suspicion around the allegiance of the Indian

Muslim who might have wanted to migrate but wasn't in a position to do so. Is this Muslim then

Indian enough to be trusted? After all, if s/he considered leaving then perhaps his/her loyalties lie elsewhere. For Riaz though, these questions are what "they'' who suspect him and his kind ask. 172

For him, his 'lndian-ness' is cast in a different nationalist narrative - one that is decidedly Indian but doesn't need to be anti-Pakistan to be as such.

If the stories of Riaz and Shahid caution us to the wisdom of the argument of 'religious nationalism' that formed the basis of the demand for Pakistan, these are countered by yet another articulation that aligns itself to a T with the claims of the Indian Congress during the freedom movement as they defended their desire to preserve the territorial integrity of India and to save it from being partitioned:

I don't feel like a second-class citizen. Very honestly, all those people, those Muslims in India, who say they feel like 2"d class citizens - they always back it with a religious argument. And to me they haven't even understood their own religion. There is nothing like that. You are born where Allah wants you to be born. And there is this verse in the Quran which says that you love your community, you love your nation. When you don't follow the Quran the way you're supposed to follow the Quran then who gives you the right to call yourself a Muslim? You are a Muslim only if you explicitly follow the Quran. And the Quran asks you to love your nation and to love your community. This is the nation where I am born because it is Allah's wish. I could have been an African. I could have been a Pakistani. Yes if I was compelled to not profess my religion then that would be a different case. That is not the case in Kashmir. If that was true then the Muslims in Gujarat would also be compelled to not practice their religion. They say this is happening in Kashmir. But I feel that Kashmir is the only Muslim majority state in India where you have most practicing Muslims.

I don't feel discriminated. Yes if I meet somebody here in India and if he talks against me and my faith - no matter who the person is - I will feel discriminated. But what guarantee do I have that if tomorrow I am in Pakistan the same thing won't happen? Because they speak against their own communities all the time. Shias speak against Sunnis. Sunnis speak against Shias. Hindus and Sikhs living there are 3rd class citizens. Very honestly we were never reminded of anything like the way the Muhajirs are in Pakistan - that we weren't born here. It was only after 1990 in Kashmir that this thing started happening. It got aggravated. Wherever we would go people would say that we're Kashmiri - not Indian. But if an Indian tells me that I'm Kashmiri I'm still as much as Indian as he is. If he thinks he has the power to say you're a Kashmiri but not an Indian I have the power to say "you shut up, I'm an Indian." I think that is the solution to the problem instead of saying okay now I'm leaving India and now I'm going. Why should I leave? (Farheen 2006; bold emphasis added)

Muslims don't have problems here [in India]. Not at all. When there is hot air, people can fan tensions. Where there is smoke there can be fire. See a few days back a friend of mine came to our neighborhood. He's a good friend - his name is Mishra. We've known each other for very long. So he said to me "Yaar! Lots of people wearing prayer caps here. What's the deal here? Do you want to make Pakistan here?" So I turned to him and said "Mishra Ji. I'd like to take two minutes of your time. You might think it a waste of time for me to say this but I need to say it. There's a small verse that I want to share with you that might explain this matter to you - I've written it myself. 'Don't 173

look at us, look at our loyalties. If you have forgotten Abdul Hamid5 then today you have Abdul Kalam6 to look at.' I wrote this verse on the spot. What I wanted to say was that after all we Muslims have done you still suspect us? Abdul Hamid is incidentally my father's name. Abdul Hamid also fought in the 1965 war very bravely but he isn't remembered much. But Muslims are still Indian today and have a lot of Indian pride. They are patriotic. If it wasn't for Abdul Kalam then we wouldn't have had a nuclear program to stand and confront Pakistan with. "so why suspect us?7 We are as much Indian as you are. But no big deal. These things happen. When the knee bends, the whole body is affected. So it happens. And after a few days everything is fine again. (Salahuddin 2006; bold emphasis added)

See if you find 4 Muslims in a Hindu area where there are mostly Hindus trouble is bound to erupt. Similarly if you find 4 Hindus in a Muslim-majority area again there you'll find some sort of issue or other. So it's not just that the Indian Muslim is a second-class citizen. This is just the way human nature is. Whoever is in minority in an area will have to suffer a little. He will face problems. Even where the ratio might be 50-50 there's a problem. In fact there are bigger problems because in places like that you'll see riots. Riots happen when the people's thinking is small - it's petty. (Asghar 2006; bold emphasis added)

The question of religion has to arise. Take any name and religion comes up. Hindustan. Pakistan. He's Muslim. That one's Hindu. If I want to fight with you, I can go ahead and identify 100 weaknesses in you to justify me desire to fight you. If you want to fight with me you'll do the same - you'll find 100 weaknesses in me. And things just escalate from there. (Farah 2006; bold emphasis added)

The excerpts presented above are unanimous in their insistence that Muslims continue to be treated fairly in India thus delegitimizing the utility of the demand for Pakistan as a state made to protect Muslims from Hindu domination. Once again, the superiority of the Indian brand of secular nationalism remains at the heart of these claims. This is accomplished in these arguments in a variety of ways. For example, in the case of Farheen, we see a denial of the validity of religious claims in the sphere of politics and the ability to exercise freedom of speech whereby Pakistan is painted negatively as un-lslamic. Others like Salahuddin who admit that there are tensions blame a few bad apples for episodic discriminations. The moral of this story is that reason triumphs over any such hiccups that seem to be inevitable where two different communities dwell. Asghar and Farah chalk up such reactions to temporary insanity and human

5 A renowned Indian war hero in the 1965 India-Pakistan war.

6 Eleventh president of India; also widely considered the father of its nuclear program.

7 The implication here is that if one Muslim, Abdul, proved his lndianness in 1965 there is still another Abdul today who has done the same. 174 nature; these seem unproblematic and issues one can deal with easily without having to resort to something as severe as territorial separation. In fact, as Farheen insists by drawing on the example of Shia-Sunni riots in Pakistan, territorial division does not end the problem of discrimination but, rather, exacerbates it to the extent that fractures appear within a community that once claimed homogeneity. No matter what the rationale given, the basic argument remains the same - that the Indian Muslim is doing well enough in India thereby, implicitly, discrediting the need to make an 'Islamic Republic' in the form of 'Pakistan' ..

This section explored how the ethical imaginary of the two-nation theory constructs the

'Indian self' and 'Pakistani other' through appeals that draw on articulations grounded in secular nationalism whose superiority is established unquestionably in its modernity and rationality. The themes that shape this discourse range from pronouncing religious n.ationalism as a farce to counting the many virtues of living in a diverse society. In the next and final section of this chapter which follows below, I explore the implications of these articulations of lndian-ness for India-

Pakistan relations.

Implications Of The Ethical Imaginary Of 'India' for Relations with the 'Pakistani Other'

As was the case in the previous chapter on Muhajirs, I also raised the question of the prospects of peace between Pakistan and India with the Indian Muslim participants I interviewed.

The two broad considerations or appeals that guided their answers were secular nationalism and commonality expressed in the form of familial bonds. Interestingly enough, while the conversations I had with Indian Muslims on the subject of identity and history tended towards portrayals of 'self' and 'other' in terms distinctly black and white, as we switched to discussing

'India-Pakistan relations' the discussion took on a more complicated hue as participants grappled with a multitude of concerns.

A good example of this was the oft-used metaphor of familial relations that might provide some clues as to why peace is so complicated even when it is something desired on both 175 sides of the border. If Pakistan was referred to as a "wayward brother" and "bigoted son" as I raised questions about partition and India-Pakistan relations, most participants now described the

'India-Pakistan relationship' as a complicated sibling rivalry when I prodded them for ways to describe the equation between the two nuclear rivals at the end of my meetings with them. Tahir

Khan discussed this analogy at length as he clarified that while peace was certainly desirable it might just be a pipe dream:

I think that the peace talks will take time. But when two brothers separate tflat's it. They'll keep fighting all their lives. It can't be completely solved. Generations change. New generations come. But the difference never goes away if it has separated them once. That's how Nature works ma'am. It never finishes. It can't. Even if two brothers compromise their children will find it hard to get along - because they grew up with some hatred in their hearts. So these little minute problems will always be there. It's a problem of neighbors. It will always stay there. The only difference is that sometimes we can get along but sometimes it's just not possible and we can't. There are some things we can cooperate over and some we can't. That's how brothers are. It's like life - there have to be some ups and downs. So sometimes we'll fight and sometimes we'll be able to get along. It happens this way in Hindustan, in your Pakistan, and also all over the world. So sometimes we might even fight a war, but not a big one - perhaps like in Kargil - it'll be limited. Other times it'll be like it is now - no peace but close enough (2006; bold emphasis added)

For Tahir, the brotherly bond that unites India and Pakistan holds both a reason for jubilation as well as cause for concern. While the bond itself provides opportunities for compromise and peace, the hatred that has entered the relationship, as evidenced by their separation, continues to mar any permanent efforts to get along. Thus, Tahir sees the India-Pakistan relationship as one that will continue to be characterized by ups and downs, by peace and conflict. Similarly,

Shahid tweaks this metaphor slightly but lands up in almost the same place as Tahir:

It's like they're two brothers. They're separate so they're okay. But if one's wife says yes, the other one says no. And so the fight continues. The politicians are like wives here. And we average people are the brothers. That's the story of Hindustan and Pakistan. This will go on like this only. Sometimes we'll fight, sometimes we'll be okay. But the fighting won't be like the past. I'll tell you why. Because in olden days people were less educated. Now they're educated so they don't fight wars. (2005; bold emphasis added)

The politicians who are cast in the role of the brothers' wives by Shahid complicate the sibling relationship that defines the bond between Pakistan and India. While he sees the brothers - i.e. 176 the average Hindustani and Pakistani - willing to compromise and live in peace, it is the wives that continue to wreak havoc.

Where Shahid and Tahir part company noticeably is that while the former does not anticipate a full-scale military confrontation, Tahir is less sanguine about the prospect of peace in so far that he argues that it is only "human nature" for there to be "pots banging in the kitchen if there is more than one pot" (2006). Nonetheless, what is particularly interesting about both these articulations that neither draws a straight line between the narrative of 'other as brother' or 'other as neighbor' and 'peace' as an outcome guaranteed solely by the virtue of the fact that these narratives exist. Unfortunately, this tendency tends to pervade both the scholarship and practice of conflict resolution. While the optimism is certainly commendable and perhaps even logical, what is neglected in this assumption is the fact that the world is a lot more messy than our analytics suggest. So, in this context, it is important to remember that although Shahid and Tahir see India and Pakistan as 'brothers' or 'neighbors', it is the manner in which this relationship is narrated that is critical. If we have on hand 'two brothers' who share a contentious relationship, then the assumption that they will somehow get along because they share this bond does not hold true. Thus, it is important to remember the ways in which the relationship itself is bounded.

Here, that there are wives stirring up trouble or that there is an element of hatred that is very much a part of this relationship, dictates how India and Pakistan behave, as it were, as 'brothers' and/or 'neighbors'.

In addition to the optimism borne out of a deployment of familial metaphors, there is also a skepticism that finds its basis in the narrative of secular nationalism. This narrative, in the words of former Indian Prime Minister L.K. Advani, doubts the integrity of a 'Pakistani other' who is deemed to have "opted for conflict and hostility, both open and covert" leaving the 'Indian self' with no way out but to consider military confrontation if it continues to be "betrayed" by a Pakistan that continues to pursue a "dangerous policy of aiding an abetting cross-border terrorism, fuelled by religious extremism, as a matter of state policy'' (India Today [New Delhi, India], 22 January, 177

2002). Similarly Kamran insisted, rather provocatively, that the blame for the lack of peace

between India and Pakistan is to be placed squarely on the shoulders of ''the country on the

western side of our (India's] borders" for it is the "jihadi, extremist Pakistan" that is a "trouble-

monger" who doesn't want peace because without a conflict with India it would have to "do the

real work of confronting the problems that have been plaguing it for 60 years" and that "will only

be resolved when Pakistan disappears from the map of the world" (2006). This takes us back to

the logic of Nehruvian secular nationalism; if the efforts of a 'rational India' that strove to save the

subcontinent from a territorial divide were disrupted by an 'irrational Pakistan' it is certainly the

latter that continues to mar peace prospects between the two nations today. After all, it was India

that was Willing to live with who is now the 'Pakistani other' while the latter wanted out.

Thus, if in pre-partition times, we heard leaders of the Indian National Congress speak

out against the futility of religious nationalism that eventually violated the sanctity of Mother India

. in the form of partition, in contemporary times, this objection has metamorphosed into a

characterization of Pakistan's activities as 'fanatic' or 'extremist'. We hear the same theme

echoed in both Farheen's and Farah's thoughts on the prospect of peace with Pakistan. For

Farheen, who hails from Kashmir, the peace talks are essentially a waste of time given Pakistan's

illegitimate designs on Kashmir:

I don't think they go anywhere. I've grown up seeing them happen again and again. I think they are just a political thing. And it fetches nothing. Not because it cannot fetch anything because the motives are not there . ... You have to be clear on what you want. According to me, I think you just have to let nations be. This division has taken place. We are a part of India. Whether right, wrong, whatever their thoughts are on it we are happy. We are living. (Farheen 2006; bold emphasis added)

As I probed Farheen to elaborate on what she meant by the reference to clarity with respect to

motivations, she explained that she felt that Pakistan's behavior actually created a "culture of

mistrust" for it claimed the Kashmiri cause as its "religious responsibility" when in fact she felt they

were only in it out of greed (2006). In this vein, she argued that Pakistan's continued misuse of

religion is something she finds "hard to digest as a true, believing, practicing Muslim" (2006).

Farah too sided with Farheen albeit narrating her mistrust of Pakistan on different terms: 178

I feel an affinity with Pakistan - they're Muslims like us. But I don't understand what kind of Islam they follow that compels them to attack us and kill our people. That is unacceptable. We've been tolerant far too long. That is the Indian nature. We have learnt to be that way living in a secular country next to so many religious communities. But Pakistanis only know Islam - rather they think they know Islam. But they don't. They only know how to misuse Islam. They've done it once to tear India apart. But that doesn't satisfy them. Not at all. First they divided our country, now they continue to attack it. They think justifying it in the name of religion makes their cause noble. What utter rubbish! They've been taking advantage of the fact that India is accommodating. But we know when to attack. Peace talks are all well and good. But there can only be peace if Pakistan checks its fanaticism. (Farah 2006; bold emphasis added)

Farah's words toe the line of the dominant national narrative as expressed in Advani's words above. It is 'secular India' that has been committed to peace and unity while Pakistan's 'religious fanaticism' continues to disrupt it. It is 'secular India' that argued for a united country while

Pakistan clamored for a separate Muslim state. It is 'secular India' that is rational and reasonable enough to remain committed to peace even when provoked; Pakistan, on the other hand, I consumed by its "misuse" of Islam continues to wage a war on Indian soil in the form on ongoing terrorist activities.

There was also a third set of responses that emerged to answer my question about the prospect of peace between Pakistan and India in which the desire for peace was combined with a narrative in which colonialism itself was faulted for the break-up and ensuing rivalry between

Pakistan and India. This sentiment is best captured in the words of Sayani who locates the way forward in a strategically profitable unification of the entire South Asian region that ought to start with "the getting together" of India and Pakistan. Convinced that other superpowers stand to profit from ongoing discord between the two nuclear rivals, his vision had the following to offer:

If India and Pakistan start getting together then that whole system of getting together will begin. Just imagine. One of my dreams is that there should be a United States of lnPaBaNeSla. What is lnPaBaNeSla? India, Pakistan, Bangladesh, Nepal, and Sri Lanka. And if somebody says why should Sri Lanka have 3 letters in lnPaBaNeSla then you add Afghanistan as the last state and get Afghanistan in. [Laughs] So what's wrong? Let's get together yaar. The world does not want - the big powers don't want anybody to get together. Just as the British didn't want us to get together. It is possible that USA doesn't want us to get together. It is possible that Russia, when it was a power, didn't want us all to get together. I'm not sure. It is quite possible that China is trying - [rather] has tried one or the other all the time. But once this getting together process starts, then even those big powers will also realize that something good is happening. Why should we not have the whole world as our home? Why shouldn't we travel 179

everywhere? Why shouldn't we have trade - exchange of trade and art and culture and technology? Why shouldn't we have the total international distribution of all our farm produce or our other products? What is wrong? There may come a time when lnPaBaNeSla could lead the way to so many, so many institutions? (Sayani 2006; bold emphasis added)

In many respects, Sayani's articulation of a peaceful India-Pakistan relationship seems very much inspired by the narrative of 'commonality' that prevailed in British India amongst both Hindus and

Muslims disturbed by the tensions in their communities. If appeals to unity were voiced then in the name of a common past, they are now articulated in the form of strategic cooperation for a brighter future.

To conclude then, this chapter along with the previous one detailed the ways in which the discourses of 'India' and 'Pakistan' have been legitimated. What emerged in this analysis was that the basic themes that formed the varied responses to the two-nation theory are very pertinent or, to be more precise, relevant in the ethical sense, to the landscape of India-Pakistan relations in so far that they influence how Indian and Pakistani selves view each other. Appeals to religious nationalism, secular nationalism, and commonality that interacted with one another in pre-1947

British India continue to exert influence on the ways in which the 'self' constructs the 'other' and, consequently, shapes 'self-other relations' in the India-Pakistan context. It was in the backdrop of articulations afforded by these responses to the two-nation theory that Pakistan and India came into being in 1947. Their continued deployment by actors on both sides of the border as a way to make sense of the world they inhabit reminds us that it has, at least until now, shaped the ethical imaginary out of which the national identities of both nations have been articulated.

In this context, the argument that the two-nation theory stopped being relevant, in the technical sense, at the moment when statehood was achieved overlooks the realities on the ground. In so far that notions of secular and religious nationalism as well as commonality shape the ways in which actors distinguish between 'self' and 'other', as this inquiry guided by ethnomethodological principles has revealed, then a conscious effort to consider how 180 deployments of the two-nation theory, as fundamental to the ethical make-up of lndian-ness and

Pakistaniat, is imperative.

It is this task that the final two empirical chapters of this dissertation take up. I turn to

Bollywood films on India-Pakistan relations and interviews with officials who have participated in

Track II diplomacy efforts between both countries in chapters 6 and 7 respectively. Both sites are particularly fruitful to explore if one is interested in accounting for the oscillations in the tenor of relations witnessed over the last decade in the India-Pakistan context.

If films have sought to become part of the public discourse of India-Pakistan in ways that examine both contentious moments and peaceful ones, then those involved in Track II initiatives over the last two decades have had a seat, front and center, from which to explore the opportunities and challenges these two rivals face with respect to forging a peaceful coexistence.

In this vein, the next two chapters are motivated by a desire and quest to understand the relevance of the articulations that make up 'lndian-ness' and 'Pakistani-ness' in shaping the relationship shared by these two nuclear rivals in more contemporary times. CHAPTERS

LIGHTS, CAMERA, ACTION!: BOLLYWOOD &

IMAGINING PEACE

India-Pakistan relations have formed the subject of many Bollywood films. Over the last decade in particular, there has been a notable increase in films that talk about this conflict.

Several of these texts have gained notoriety amongst both Pakistanis and Indians for the particular statements they have made vis-a-vis the relationship shared by these two rivals. For example, if films like Border, which was released in 1997 merely a year before the nuclearization of Pakistan and India, vilified th~ 'Pakistani other' while telling the story of the 1971 Inda-Pakistan war then Veer-Zaara, which took a different tack by mounting a story in which peace was constructed as the norm and commonalities between 'self' and 'other' were emphasized. The latter came to be welcomed as evidence of the increasing friendship between Pakistan and India at the time. No matter the subject of the particular text, what they share in common is the expression of peace as the desired and rational outcome in the India-Pakistan context.

Bearing this in mind, this chapter seeks to illustrate the imagination of peace in the

1 India-Pakistan context in Bollywood films . I begin this discussion by illustrating the importance of films to this investigation. Next, I describe as well as lay out my rationale for the films analyzed

1 It must be noted here that I was unable to find any Pakistani productions, film or television, devoted to the genre of 'India-Pakistan war films' in the same way that Bollywood has paid attention to this subject in recent years. This is not to say that 'nationalist' or 'patriotic' programming is absent from the landscape of Pakistani electronic media. That is hardly the case. These texts, however, refrain from paying focused attention to the 'Indian other'. As I asked my participants to explain this, they generally cited one or both of the following reasons for this difference between Pakistani and Indian media: (a) in Pakistan, partition does not beg for the kind of resolution that is needed in India given that territorial independence was achieved leading to a clean break with an Indian past; and/or (b) a jingoistic India remains obsessed with Pakistan and has been unable to come to terms with the fact that her dream of a united subcontinent was not achieved in 1947. 181 182

herein. It is in this second section that I provide an explanation of the three Bollywood films that I

study closely in this investigation. The third section concerns itself with tracing the deployment of

difference in these films. Building on the empirical analysis presented thus far, some concluding

reflections on the 'utopia of peace' articulated in these texts constitute the final section of this

chapter.

Why Films?

In the India-Pakistan context, Bollywood films, particularly the genre of nationalist or

patriotic films in which war movies have been largely dominant, play two important roles.

First, as Rajagopal {1996) and Brennan (1990) have clarified, in postcolonial contexts

where nationalism is often a recent phenomenon this medium has come to occupy an important

place in cultivating a sense of national identity. To this extent, an analysis of the nationalist

. narratives found in these texts can be rather revealing given that films represent important sites of

negotiation the nation and its identity.

Second, and more specific to the case of India and Pakistan, films about the

relationship between these two rivals tend to take center stage as part of the political rhetoric in

both countries. Both Gerbner {1984) and Hall {1980) suggest that televisual texts are not ~mere

representations of a given social phenomenon, X, but messages about it that are very much part

of the discourse in which this X is emergent. Similarly, these films are not just stories about the

relationship shared by Pakistan and India but are very much part of the discourse of India­

Pakistan relations. In this vein, Bollywood films function, in Indian and Pakistani national spaces,

like the Foucauldian "node within a network" (1972, 23). Additionally, Gillespie argues that media

texts such as films constitute "an important form of self-narration and a major collective resource

through which identities are negotiated" rendering them sites worth paying attention to in any

study of the role of identity in shaping socio-political orders {1995, 205). In Mcluhanesque terms,

electronic communication in mounts an experience of being in touch with those far away thus 183 creating a space that facilitates social intimacy, whether characterized by ill-will or harmony, with those far away (1964). This social intimacy functions as a connection of "the symbolic to the political" (Eagleton 1984, 123). Hence, films force us to process our thoughts on "space and identity .... premised on the association of spatial penetration with impurity, and in which any incoming elements (foreign immigrant, foreign commodities, foreign television programmes) are seen to represent matter out of place" (Morley 2000, 195). It is also worth mentioning that the genre of patriotic films has received increasing attention from film-makers since 1997 in the South

Asian context. Public discourse about and around films like Border(1997) and Veer-Zaara (2005) has been particularly charged (I discuss the specifics of these responses in the next section) warranting that we reorient our attention towards them not merely as "films" but very much a part of the political milieu in which India-Pakistan relations are configured. Rajagopal also reminds us that Bollywood films, like other forms of popular culture, remain rather popular not only as a source of entertainment but as a space in which the national public is imagined and articulated

(1993). Thus, Bollywood films constitute a rich site from which to explore the imagination of

'India', 'Pakistan' and 'India-Pakistan relations' as they come to occupy an authoritative stance in the South Asian context. From personal observations as well a~ from conducting field research for this project, it is rather evident that discussions about films relevant to the India-Pakistan conflict are rarely limited to the text itself. These conversations almost always transcend into the territory where the films themselves become a part of this relationship itself. In India, it seems as if these films are experienced as true national narratives. In Pakistan, a conversation about these films often addresses the inaccuracies and injustices of the Indian version of an event. As Morley elaborates "encounters with those defined as alien ... can take place not only in physical but also in virtual, or symbolic space" (2000, 151 ). Thus, films become crucial to the investigation at hand concerned with mapping bounding practices to see how identity is articulated for they serve as a sort of contact zone between 'self' and 'other' and force actors to think about the character of the difference between the two. 184

Choosing The Films

The year 1997 marked the beginning of a noticeable increase in hostilities between

India and Pakistan. Since then the India-Pakistan equation has been characterized by rapid, and at times dizzying, oscillations between animosity and friendship. Two films, in particular, represent this phenomenon particularly well.

The first film is Border (1997). This film, an adaptation of real events that took place during the 1971 War between India and Pakistan, was released in 1997 as tensions between

India and Pakistan continued to mount prior to the nuclear tests in May 1998. Produced, written, and directed by J.P. Dutta, Border tells the story of the Battle of Longewala in West Rajasthan during the India-Pakistan War of 1971. Specifically, its focus is on how a small band of 120 soldiers of the of the Indian Army withstood a major Pakistani assault on

Longewala in December 1971 . These men defended their post all on their own without any support through the night until help came from the the next morning after which the Pakistani forces were defeated.

Why analyze Border? Is there something about this film that is compelling beyond the fact that it was a film about a war that is an important part of Indian and Pakistani history? On a personal level, this was the first text that sparked my curiosity about the puzzle this dissertation attempts to unravel as I came face-to-face with an Indian account of the war that was completely alien to me. What I had learnt about it in high school history was in complete opposition to the portrayal of 'Pakistan' that I encountered in the film. That it was banned in Pakistan as Indian propaganda continued to intrigue me. Video storeowners who defied government orders and rented out pirated copies of the film were promptly locked up in jail. That the police had to be called in to break up altercations between moviegoers of Indian and Pakistani origins in the US and the UK also got me thinking. There was something about the story and the subject matter that Indians and Pakistanis living abroad felt strongly enough about that they came to blows with each other after the movie ended or while waiting in line to purchase tickets. I was one of the few 185

Pakistanis I knew who actually went to watch this film instead of boycotting it as a jingoistic

statement of lndianness. Two years later, when this film was broadcast on satellite TV in the

South Asian region, the streets in Karachi were deserted as people stayed home to watch "Indian

propaganda" about a war in which Pakistan had lost its Eastern half. In this vein, responses to

and interest in this film warrants attention to it as part of the discourse of India-Pakistan relations.

As a text that purports to be a historical representation of a military confrontation it is interesting

to examine to see what kinds of deployments of national narratives come into play in the context

of animosity at its ultimate extreme.

The second film analyzed in this chapter is Veer-Zaara (2005). Directed by veteran

Bollywood film-maker (whose family migrated from Pakistani Punjab to India around

1947) and written by his son , Veer-Zaara was advertised as an "epic love legend"

and has generated a great deaf of public interest amongst Indians and Pakistanis alike when it

was released in theatres in 2004 as the first Bollywood film to avoid the predictable vilification of the 'Pakistani other' within the genre of patriotic films that looks at India-Pakistan relations. That

its release coincided with a time period when India and Pakistan found their relationship

considerably friendlier than at any other time since they came into being as independent nation­

states and that viewers began to associate it with the peace process itself renders this of

particular interest to this investigation.

Veer-Zaara is the love story of Veer Pratap Singh, a squadron leader in the Indian air

force, and Zaara Haayat Khan, the daughter of an influential politician in Pakistan. Zaara

proceeds to India to fulfill her maid Bebe's (Bebe was a Sikh lady who came to Pakistan in

August 1947 with Zaara's grandparents when they decided to leave India) request to complete

her last rites and spread her ashes in the river near her old temple. Zaara meets Veer when he

saves her life after the bus in which she travels to India meets with an accident. The couple of

days they spend together while Zaara is in India are enough for them to fall deeply in love.

However, when Zaara returns to Lahore, Pakistan her engagement to her father's colleague's 186 son, Ali Shirazi, is scheduled to take place. Zaara declares she loves Veer to her mother who tries to warn her against the folly of not only falling in love but falling in love with an Indian man which would jeopardize her father's chances of succeeding in Pakistani politics - after all who would vote for a man whose son-in-law was from India?! Zaara's maid, Shabbo, listens quietly to this conversation but sides with Zaara who wants to spend the rest of her life with Veer. She secretly calls Veer in India and urges him to come to Pakistan to ask Zaara's father for permission to marry her before it's too late. All hell breaks loose once Veer reaches Pakistan.

After Zaara's father, Sikander Hayaat Khan suffers a heart attack, both Veer and Zaara decide to put their feelings aside and part ways for the sake of her father. Veer is prepared to return but just as he boards the bus headed for India he is captured by Pakistani authorities on the pretext of being an Indian spy- or, to be specific, Ali Shirazi, jealous that the woman who is going to become his wife is in love with another man, uses his father's political clout to trap Veer to take revenge. Twenty-two years pass by with Veer languishing in jail for a crime he didn't commit i.e. working in Pakistan as a spy on India's behalf. Enter Saamiya Siddiqui - a Pakistani human rights lawyer who is determined to fight for the release of Veer Pratap Singh and, therefore, files a case against the Pakistani government on his behalf. Saamiya succeeds in proving to the court that

Veer is not an Indian spy by the name of Rajesh (this is the fictional person he is wrongly accused of being thanks to Ali Shirazi, Zaara's fiance, who pulls some strings to have Veer accused of being an Indian spy so that he can rot in jail.) In the end, Veer is exonerated and returns along with Zaara (who divorced Ali Shirazi soon after their marriage and moved to India to

Veer's village where she developed the primary school Veer's parents ran into a full-fledged school for girls) to his village in India where it is alluded that they will live the fairy-tale "happily ever after" ending.

The significance of this film lies in the fact that it was the first major Bollywood production about India-Pakistan relations that focused on the potential for something other than conflict. Strangely enough, the film's director, Yash Chopra, maintains that Veer-Zaara wasn't 187 intended to be a film about India and Pakistan; all he had set out to make was a love story (2006).

However, given that it was released right around the time when India and Pakistan had committed to a peace process after having come to the brink of war in 2001, Veer-Zaara was widely received and appreciated as a markedly different, less belligerent statement on India­

Pakistan relations. That it was one of the first Indian films to portray Pakistan as something other than 'aggressor' rendered it extremely popular among Pakistani audiences. Indian audiences also welcomed it as representative of the new sentiment in India - one in which the Pakistani 'other' came to be seen as something other than 'foe' and one that represented a less belligerent national narrative. Furthermore, the fact that this film was released at a time when the Hindu festival of Diwali and the Muslim festival of Eid fell over the same week-end contributed to its celebration in public discourse as evidence of Hindu-Muslim as well as India-Pakistan unity and friendship.

To my knowledge, this was the first major Bollywood production that grappled in earnest with multiple narrations of difference in the India-Pakistan context making it a particularly interesting text to analyze given the concerns of this dissertation. In this vein, Veer-Zaara stands in stark contrast to Border as it provides a look into deployments of difference at a time, both in the film and historically, when a relationship that emphasizes peace and friendship is envisioned.

In a personal interview, , renowned poet and lyricist for Bollywood films, mentioned. Border and Veer-Zaara, as the two texts he has heard referred to as significant in the context of workshops and conferences between Indians and Pakistanis as part of Track II diplomacy efforts (2006).

Whereas the first two films analyzed in this dissertation project focus on the sensational or the extraordinary, the third film I have chosen to include in this analysis incorporates the subject of India-Pakistan relations in the context of what one might describe as mundanely ordinary. This shift is significant for up until 2007 the discussion of India-Pakistan relations in

Bollywood films was always contextualized as occurring between two extremes i.e. war, as 188 exemplified in Border, or a complete rejection of the narrative of animosity, as seen in Veer­

Zaara. What is being witnessed of late within the genre of Bollywood films about India-Pakistan relations is a weaving of this discussion of the distinction between 'self' and 'other' and the imagination of relations between these two entities into the everyday lives of citizens - in social and cultural spaces which are, of course, political in that they involve meaning-making but not necessarily a part of routinized or sensationalized politics as it were. So instead of sensational events, we now access the discourse of India-Pakistan relations on celluloid in more ordinary circumstances. For example, sharing a cup of coffee at a train station or airport in London or New

York because you happen to be the only South Asians there during which you strike up a random conversation. Even in these conversations, as light-hearted as they are, a negotiation about difference is always present. This, I would argue, merits careful analysis. It is for this reason that I have included the film Chak De!: India (Come On, India!) which was released in August 2007.

Chak De!: India became one of the most popular and high-grossing films in the Indian film industry the year that it was released. It proceeded to win most of the Indian film awards the following year and was widely celebrated as a film celebrating Indian patriotism. Its popularity was noteworthy among Pakistani audiences to whom the story appealed and represented an Indian nationalism that perhaps admits its own arrogance and therefore redeems itself as more acceptable and less aggressive in the Pakistani national imagination. The main storyline of this film directed by Shimit Amin focuses on the way in which an all-women's hockey team with an abominable losing track record is whipped into shape by their hockey coach, , to win the World Cup. It is a story driven by two goals: first and foremost, elevating the status of women and a statement on the importance of gender equality; and, second, a statement against ethnic, religious, regional, or class divides that compromise the unity that is lndia/lndian-ness. On the sidelines of the main narrative is another one of consequence: the allegation of match-fixing against Kabir Khan during his tenure as captain of the Indian National Hockey Team. When India loses an important final to Pakistan after Khan misses the final penalty stroke, the media and the 189 public turns against him on the grounds that as a Muslim it is obvious that he lost deliberately for his allegiance lies with Pakistan. It is this aspect of the storyline to which I pay attention for it provides valuable insights into the construction of the 'Indian self' in relation to a 'Pakistani other'.

Making 'India' & 'Pakistan' Meaning-full

In this section, I present a detailed analysis of selected scenes of the three films mentioned above. Rather than focus on monosyllabic exchanges in which the 'other' is simply proclaimed as 'X', I turn to those moments in which boundary negotiations and a concerted effort to define 'self' in relation to the 'other' - or vice versa - can be located for it is in these detailed interactions that one can gain access to the ethics out of which bounding practices are crafted so as to produce a particular political order. A total of six scenes have been singled out for this analysis - the first three are from Border, the next two from Veer-Zaara, and the last one has been taken from Chak De! India.

Before proceeding onwards to an analysis of the debates in these scenes I would like to point out one thing. The conversational exchanges presented and analyzed here can be seen, ostensibly at least, in terms of personal feelings, rants, and injustices. That might well be true.

However, specific experiences of characters also reveal a way of worlding. That is to say, these are not merely the beliefs of or the interactions between a handful of individuals on different sides of a geographical/spatial boundary but are also general statements that the Pakistani/Indian 'self' makes about an Indian/Pakistani 'other' that have become part of the repertoire, as it were, in which the ontology of the actor(s) in question is embedded. Simply, individual actors- be they fictional or semi-fictional characters in a fictional text or actual people as we saw in the case of the last two chapters - draw on a reservoir of meanings and interpretations that do not always

(perhaps even seldomly in the majority of cases) link up neatly with personal histories or experiences but, rather, with a person's identification with a community that tell these individuals that they must make sense of X in manner Y to preserve the integrity of the group's identity. So, 190 as personal as the grievances or emotions articulated in these sites may be, they are framed within the matrix of a notion of we-ness or a collective that proffer access to understanding how the causal role played by particular articulations of actorhood. Let me now turn our attention to the actual texts.

Border, Scene 1: Hindu/India as secular and rational

Once it becomes evident on December 3, 1971 that a military confrontation is inevitable, we see the officers being ordered by Major Kuldip Singh Chandpuri, the commanding officer of Alfa Company of the Punjab Regiment whom this film Border is about, to promptly evacuate villages that are in the vicinity of their base. Captain Bhairav Singh is put in charge of the entire effort since he is the only one who speaks the language of the locals. While Captain

Singh and his men are trying to rush the villagers to safety, enemy bombs go off setting the entire village ablaze. Evacuation efforts are expedited as the chaos is amplified.

In the midst of all the madness, Singh notices an elderly villager looking towards his home stunned as he makes an attempt to dart inside. The fact that this gentleman has a longish beard and is wearing a cap indicates that he is Muslim. As he moves back towards his home,

Singh stops him in time. The dialog between them proceeds as follows:

3 Bhairav Singh: Aral Mian . What treasure lies inside that you're willing to risk your life to retrieve it? Please go from here. Villager/Miyan: I can't go sir. My father gave me a Holy Quran before he died sir. That's in there sir. It's by the oven. (Dutta 1997)

Upon hearing this, Singh rushes inside without the slightest hesitation to retrieve the Quran from inside the burning hut. When he reaches near its owner, he pulls the Quran out from under his shirt where he had placed it to protect it from the fire to hand it over to him. Before doing so,

2 A term for which there is no exact English translation but, in this context, implies a somewhat politely disgruntled "please".

3 In India, elderly Muslim males are often referred to as Miyan. It is generally considered a respectful term unless it is used to address a Muslim male younger than the speaker in which case it is usually derogatory. 191

Singh places the Quran on each eye and kisses it- an act that is customary, at least in South

Asia when handling the Quran:

Bhairav Singh [with reverence and marked concern in his voice]: Here you go Miyan. Now please go from here. [He looks at him with urgency and concern for his protection at this juncture.] Villager/Miyan [looking confused and somewhat amazed]: You went in there and got the Quran for me Sir?! But you're a Hindu, aren't you? Bhairav Singh (smiling as he responds]: Yes I am a Hindu. Which itself explains my deed. To render selfless service is what Hinduism is all about. This is what the true Hindu has been doing for ages. Now go on Miyan, please. (Dutta 1997)

Miyan complies and, as we see him walking away he looks at Singh who is busy trying to get the other villagers to safety and comments: "And those people4 call the Hindus infidels!".

This scene, via Bhairav Singh's words and actions, constructs 'Hinduness' and thus, by extension 'India', as a benevolent entity whose rationality is never compromised by religious zeal.

The Hindu is one for whom religiosity does not spur warfare or an instinct to kill but, rather, we see a protectionist urge for all of humanity. In this vein, the superiority of secular logic is established. India, as a secular nation, is by no means irreligious but is able to play well with others given its particular religiosity which is a far stretch from the exclusivist logic of Pakistan's

religious nationalism that can only breed violence. We see an example of this earlier in the film when the Punjab Regiment moves in to take charge of the post at Longewala and set up their

base, Major Kuldip Singh Chandpuri and other high-ranking officials in his regiment survey the areas in which civilians reside closely. During one of their initial routine inspections of the villages, they come across a fire around which several men seem to be huddled. They walk over to the group in order to interrogate them to ensure that these men aren't Pakistani infiltrators. After questioning them, they walk past a herd of camels on the way to their car where they pause as

Bhairav Singh stops to examine the grass they're feeding on:

Bhairav Singh: Sir, did you see the grass the camels are feeding on? Kuldip Singh Chandpuri: [Gestures towards one of the lower-ranking officials accompanying them so as to order them to bring a torch to examine the grass.]

4 The reference here to "those people" implies Pakistan/Pakistanis. 192

Singh: This grass is green. Out here in the desert, there's no green grass to be found for miles and miles. But yes, across the border in Pakistan, they have this kind of grass. (Dutta 1997)

The minute he mentions the word 'Pakistan', Singh's tone changes completely. He slows down

and enunciates the word 'Pakistan' with a tone whose character cannot be mistaken for anything

else other than bitter hatred. Drawing on popular narratives in circulation in the Indian national

imagination, Pakistan is mostly depicted as the irrational miscreant driven to insanity thanks to

religious fundamentalism. In fact, India's entry into combat during the 1971 war is portrayed in

this film, as well as in Indian history, as a reaction to the sheer craziness of Pakistan's illogical

5 religious fundamentalism that produces nothing but a nationalism that is considered illegitimate .

We see a similar sentiment echoed in the statement that Miyan makes at the end of this

scene. He can't help but express disbelief at the Pakistani characterization of the Hindu/Indian as

an infidel.

This point is critical for jihad (if defined narrowly as holy war in the name of Allah which

6 it often is in public discourse especially when referring to lslamist politics ) is only waged against

non-believers. That Singh risks his life to retrieve the Quran from his burning home, the reverence that he displays for it, and that he does it all in the name of his own religion impresses Miyan tremendously. Someone who respects his Islam, even if in the name of another religion, surely

cannot be an infidel. And if a Hindu who has been taught to commit to service towards humankind then how can s/he be the enemy? After all, Islam places great emphasis on Huqooq-u/-lbad7

whereby foregoing one's duties towards God's creation is considered a sin. That a Hindu believes

in the same, must mean thats/he lives according to one of Islam's most significant principles

5 India's entry into combat is established as a reaction to Pakistan's actions as is described in Indian history and public discourse. It is worth mentioning here that Pakistani accounts describe their role in the 1971 war as one of retaliation to ongoing Indian intervention in East Pakistan (now Bangladesh) in April of the same year.

6 Another interpretation of this term, jihad, is learning to control one's nafs which is the physical manifestation of an individual's soul so as not to succumb to temptation and commit acts that would displease Allah

7 Translated in English as ''the rights of humankind." 193

thereby negating that a jihad could or should be waged against him/her. That Bhairav Singh

rushes inside to retrieve the Quran that Miyan holds dear without hesitation. That he not only

retrieves it but handles this book with the same kind of reverence as a Muslim would. That he

describes what he did as his duty as mandated by a 'Hindu' faith. All of these add up to an

intriguing dichotomy between 'India' and 'Pakistan' which is what Miyan hints at towards the end

of the scene by casting doubt on the Pakistani characterization of a Hindu as infidel.

Do Singh's statements imply a secular vision of lndian-ness whereby religion is

rendered irrelevant unlike the 'Pakistani other' who wages jihad in the name of God? Or, does it

perhaps suggest a religiosity in which the impetus to peace is much stronger than the impetus to I

war? One that isn't obsessed with killing which is equated with that which is negative - which is

what Pakistani-ness is portrayed as but rather, one whose religion doesn't breed hatred and

injustice - aka Hindu or Indian. Here appeals to spirituality replace religiosity in a quest to accommodate multiple faiths thereby further discounting the very notion of the two-nation theory as propounded by the Indian Muslim League which argued that the faiths of Hinduism and Islam were so diametrically opposed to each other that living together was no longer an option. Here, in this scene, Bhairav Singh's respect for the Quran which is subsequently praised by a Muslim

underscores the separation between "faith" and "matters of the state" while paying homage to the

Gandhian response to the two-nation theory whereby followers of different faiths could live in

harmony- that was the power and defining quality of "lndian-ness". It discredits the very notion that the Muslim would have languished under Hindu domination in a united India after the departure of the British thus emphasizing the falsity of the All-India Muslim League's position on the two-nation theory of which Pakistan, as a nation state, constitutes, ongoing proof.

Consequently, the very existence of Pakistan, as a state that came into existence by insisting upon its separation from a Hindu India, becomes a thorny issue in the Indian national narrative for it stands out as something that the Indian appeal to secularism and harmony between faiths where being 'Indian' trumped all other affiliations an individual subscribed to. 194

Border, Scene 2: Muslim/Pakistan as 'foreign aggressor' motivated by the illogic of faith/religion.

In this scene, it is now December 4, 1971. Indian and Pakistani forces are engaged in combat as we find ourselves in the wee hours of the night. Casualties amass as both sides try to outdo each other - the Indians as they save their territory and the Pakistanis as they attempt to make headway into Indian soil. A deadly explosion occurs. Bodies fly into the air. Carnage surrounds those who are still alive and continue to fight. A Pakistani soldier is catapulted into the air from the impact of this explosion and lands, badly injured, inside the trench from where the soldiers of the Indian Punjab Regiment are trying to hold on to their territory. He is taken captive at once and held at gunpoint by one of the lower-ranking officers who waits for Major Kuldip

Singh Chandpuri to come over and give orders as to what must be done with this Pakistani soldier who is now officially a POW (Prisoner of War). The exchange that follows is particularly instructive in clarifying one of the ways in which the 'Pakistani other' is constructed in the Indian national imagination:

Indian Soldier (to Major Kuldip Singh Chandpuri): He's still alive sir. Pakistani POW: Please don't kill me sir. For the sake of God [pleading with his hands folded]. For the sake of the God to whom you pray. In the name of the Bhagwan (Hindu god) whom you worship. Please don't kill me. I have little kids back home. Kuldip Singh Chandpuri(to Pakistani POW): What are your children's names? Pakistani POW: Khalid ... and Asma. Kuldip Singh Chandpuri: Nice names. Now tell me the plans of your forces. Pakistani POW: I'm an ordinary soldier sir. It's the higher-ups who plan strategy. All they said was that they would have breakfast at Jaisalmer in India. That we'd have lunch at in India. And that we'd have dinner in Delhi. 8 I swear by Allah sir. By the Holy Quran. This is all I know. Please don't kill me sir. I don't want to die. Kuldip Singh Chandpuri: We will not kill you! [It is important to note that Major Kuldip's tone changes here. Until this point, he had been yelling firmly but when he reassures the soldier of his safety his tone seems to soften.] You are a soldier of your nation just like we are for our country. We will treat you as one soldier ought to treat another. Give him some water! [At this point, the Indian solider puts down his gun and picks up the flask to help the Pakistani POW drink water.]

8 The captured soldier's words have been taken almost verbatim from the comments rumored to have been made by Pakistani Tariq Mir to the men of the 51 Brigade of before fighting erupted during the 1971 India-Pakistan war. 195

Kuldip Singh Chandpuri (walking away from his soldier and the Pakistani POW): They say they will have breakfast in Jaisalmer. Today we will feast on then. The Guru has said One Sikh is equal to 125,000. It's time to prove His proclamation true today! (Dutta 1997)

As the scene ends, we see Major Kuldip ordering his battalion to advance. They do so uttering

Sikh war cries.

At one level, we are told that the India-Pakistan rivalry is not one that extends to all citizens of either country. The Pakistani POW is simply following orders. It's not clear whether he believes or disbelieves the narrative of 'Indian other' as 'enemy'. He is simply doing what is expected of him as a soldier - following the orders of those higher than him in rank. It is the high- ranking officials on the Pakistani side that are portrayed as war-mongers. At times, they are even described in the same manner as the Muslim leaders of pre-partition India like Jinnah who, given their insistence on forming a separate state for the Muslims of British India, are viewed with varying degrees of hatred and suspicion in India. There is a powerful national narrative in India that makes a distinction between two different ''.

Briefly, the first kind is that which is constituted by a corrupt, power-hungry leadership that succeeded in swaying the masses into believing a false distinction between Hindus and

Muslims of a united India leading to the collapse of the (sacred) Indian union in 1947. Individuals like Mohammad Ali Jinnah fall squarely in this group in the Indian national narrative (Bunsha

2006). It is this deviant Pakistan that continues to wage a jihad against India, particularly in the form of militant groups in Kashmir and terrorist attacks on Indian soil.

The (relatively) amicable Pakistani citizen constitutes the second type. These people do not believe in a religious nationalism that separates India on the basis of faith but, rather, believe in living in peace and harmony and haven't bought into the myth of divisiveness on the basis of religion that the leaders of the All-India Muslim League preached to secure an independent state that broke up the whole that is considered "Mother India". The association with "Mother India" is significant here for it implies a grave sin - breaking a 'mother' who is the most revered and respected human figure io South Asia. This metaphor is usually extended implicitly in 196 metaphorical descriptions of Pakistan as the "artificial limb of Hindustan" in Indian political rhetoric.

That the Pakistani POW names the places he does when revealing the plans of the higher-ups of his country is also worth paying attention to because of the historical relevance of the dialog as well as the cities named. The words of this soldier have been taken almost verbatim from the comments rumored to have been made by Pakistani Brigadier Tariq Mir to his men in the

51 st Infantry Brigade of the Pakistan Army before fighting erupted during the 1971 India-Pakistan war. In the original comments, the cities named by Brigadier Mir included Longewala, Ramgarh, and Jaisalmer (Tribune News Service [Chandigarh, India] 5 December 1999). However, the cities referred to in the film include Jaisalmer, Jodhpur, and Delhi. While Brigadier Mir isn't a name that is remembered often in popular history in either India or Pakistan, it is worth mentioning that he was awarded the Sitara-e-lmtiaz or "Star of Excellence" by the Pakistani government for mounting this attack on Longewala in December 1971. His name, particularly in connection with the dialog of his repeated in Border, has been mentioned in prominent biographies and interviews of Indian army-men who were serving in the armed forces in 1971 including General Sam

Manekshaw who was the Chief of the Indian Army at the time.

Just as the adaptation of Brigadier Mir's words is symbolically important to understand this exchange, so is the history that lies behind the particular cities named by the Pakistani POW as he is interrogated by Singh.

The mention of Delhi as a city to which Pakistan might want to lay claim can be attributed not only to the fact that it is presently the capital of India but also because it was a prominently Muslim city prior to partition in 1947 having been a major center of the Mughal

Empire since Babur's time and the capital after Akbar ascended to the throne. It is, however, also significant, in Hindu tradition. According to the Mahabharata epic, Delhi is the site of the old city of lndrapastha that was the capital of the Pandavas' kingdom. Yudisthira, the eldest son of the

Pandavas clan, is given the kingdom of Khandavaprastha of which present-day Delhi is a part. 197

This kingdom has been cursed to remain barren and desolate. Lord Krishna summons Indra (god of weather and war) to help Yudisthira restore this region and his kingdom who, in turn, calls on

Vishwakarman. Vishwakarman, the deity of architecture and craftsmanship, transforms this region by performing sacred ceremonies after which it is crowned as capital. Jaisalmer is currently part of the state of Rajasthan in India and is situated approximately 60 miles away from

Pakistani territory. It continues to serve as a significant military outpost on the India-Pakistan border and has acquired increased importance over the years as an army supply depot. Jodhpur is another city in the state of Rajasthan located in close proximity to the India-Pakistan border.

Militarily, it is home to one of India's army colleges. Although neither Jodhpur nor Jaisalmer were

Muslim majority states during any period in Indian history, several ethnic communities within these regions converted to Islam from Hinduism and migrated to Pakistan, especially the southeastern regions of the Pakistani province of Sindh. Members of these immigrant communities continue to trace their ancestry to the Rajasthan area. Additionally, the Sindh­

Rajasthan border region has been the site of major showdowns between Hindus and Muslims starting with the Battle of Rajasthan between Hindu and Muslim Arabs around the year

738. That the Muslims never made significant headway into Rajasthan and met only with limited success in the time of the Mughal Emperor Akbar who, through his marriage with princess

Jodha Bai, was able to mount alliances and increase the extent of Mughal rule to some of the kingdoms in this region renders its mention in this dialog significant. It is suggestive of 'Indian' bravado and victory over illegitimate designs of a 'Pakistan' whose only claim to this region is by invasion rather than ancestral belonging. That being "of the land" is an oft-romanticized notion in

South Asia and considered to triumph as the most legitimate basis of all kinds of territorial claims does not require further explication here. Suffice it to say that between the rich history of the

Rajputs having successfully fended Muslim invasions in the region and a reference to Delhi whose ancient history as a city dating back to 2nd millennium BC that was instituted as a capital city in the Pandavas kingdom centuries before the Mughals came into power all serve as 198 reminders that Hindu/Indian claims to all of these regions stand to trump those of a Muslim

9 Pakistan .

Seeing Major Kuldip Singh Chandpuri walk away at the end of the scene while invoking

Guru Nanak of the Sikh faith serves as a reminder that religion is used to differentiate between

'self' and 'other' in the India-Pakistan context. If considered in conjunction with the legitimacy of claims of belonging to the land as might be inferred from the cities named in this dialog, we are reminded again that a Muslim Pakistan is an 'invader' or 'foreign aggressor' - both in the present given their attack on Indian soil during the 1971 war as well as historically. Unlike Sikhism, which was founded in the Indian subcontinent, Islam came to this region from foreign shores. Thus, if we think about national territories being borne out of or their territories being carved such that they conform with "birthrights" conferred by being "children of the soil" then clearly a Muslim

Pakistan comes to be designated in this conversational exchange as a foreign aggressor driven by a religious frenzy with no legitimate claim over the land it has absorbed and the territory it continues to have its eyes on. This theme of Pakistan having wrongfully claimed a part of the territory that belongs to India has come front and center of nationalist debates in the wake of the rise of right-wing parties and ideologies such as those espoused by the Rashtriya Swayamevak

Sangh (RSS), Vishva Hindu Prashad (VHP), and the Bharatiya Janata Party (BJP) that rely on

Hindu cultural nationalism as the basis from which to define being Indian (Embree 2005).

Singh's reaction to the two 'Pakistans' exemplified by the POW and yje high-ranking officers who are his commanders in the army is also important to consider in the context of the question about the prospects of peace in the India-Pakistan context. The POW is the innocent

Pakistani manipulated by a power-hungry elite. He has no aspirations that pose a threat to India.

In a sense, this is the 'Pakistani other' considered a 'friend' by the 'Indian self'. This 'Pakistani other' is not driven to war by religiosity but has no option given his rank in the military. The

9 The following texts were consulted to locate the historical facts mentioned in this discussion: Ali 1990; Hodson 1985; Khairi 1977; Khan, Gui Hassan 1993; Khan, Muhammad Ayub 1967; Khan, M. Asghar 2005; Khan, Gohar Ayub 2007; Gupta 2002; Mitha 2003; Schimmel 2004; Siddiqi 2004; and, Torrens-Spence 2006. 199

superior officers who speak of annexing Jaisalmer and Delhi, on the other hand, exemplify those

'Pakistani others' who compromise India's security. They embody the narrative of religious

nationalism that Jinnah and his peers deployed to destroy India's territorial integrity. They are the

ones to watch out for. It is with this 'Pakistani other', the 'Indian self' imagines waging a war to

protect Mother India.

Border, Scene 3: 'Commonality' should trump 'Difference'

Below are the lyrics of a song with which the film Border ends. At this juncture in the

film, the military confrontation itself has ended with India emerging as the victor. The Punjab

Regiment being commanded by Major Kuldip Singh has succeeded in defending the base at

Longewala from the assault mounted by the Pakistani army. An uphill battle ensued as the Indian

army tried to defend its post without air support that was unable to come to their rescue during

night-time. Once the Indian Air Force planes arrive, the battle is over in mere minutes; the

Pakistani enemy suffers a crushing defeat. As much as the Indians have to celebrate, which the

soldiers in the background continue to do, we see Major Kuldip Singh Chandpuri, who is one of the only high-ranking officials to survive, questioning the futility of the hatred that separates India

and Pakistan and brings them to the brink of war through the song below:

War lasts for but a few days but it leaves you with a lifetime of sorrow The air is misty from the explosions, it smells like Death Wounds seem helpless Dying children in its hands, Mothers crying all night long This is my village, this is my home But faces and hearts seem turned to stone My enemy, my brother, my neighbor

These "stones" are trying to say something to both you and me The destruction that surrounds us is also implores us My enemy, my brother, my neighbor

These faces, these hearts turned to stone; these burning homes The same scenes of destruction can be seen in both your home and mine. All these sights ask us both" when will this border cease to be the hell that it has become because of the perpetuation of hatred"? 200

Instead of planting rice in our fields why are we using them to store guns? Is the hatred in our hearts so venomous that it prevents us from seeing the hungry kids in our villages?

Let's swear never to fight again And look forward to that day, find our way to that day. When there will be no more fires ablaze; only gardens blooming on both sides of the border. Your country and my country too. My friend, my brother, my neighbor. (Dutta, 1997; translation by author; bold emphasis added)

This song represents a marked tonal change from the fighting and expressions of hatred that we've seen throughout the film until this point. It reflects upon, and questions, the pointless fighting that India and Pakistan have been engaged in ever since they came into being as independent nations in 1947.

The first stanza paints a stark picture of death and destruction. The visuals we see through this verse are stunning in their juxtaposition. On the one hand, we see a group of army men rejoicing amidst dead Pakistani soldiers and standing up on Pakistani tankers destroyed by

Indian air shelling. Contrast this against the following set of visuals as we hear the lines "a lifetime of sorrow" (Dutta 1997). Some of these are images that Major Kuldip Singh is able to see with his own eyes; others are ones that he imagines. The back-and-forth between the real and the imagined is not only surreal but, as an editing technique, reminds us that the death and destruction being lamented in the song go beyond the battlefield into homes all across the nation and, perhaps, across the border as well.

Next we see a woman in the hospital with crying kids whose husband might have died in war. We are then whisked away to a village that is hundreds of miles away the battlefront where news of the death of one of Major Kuldip Singh Chandpuri's men - Ratan Singh - reaches his old, feeble parents. They have tears streaming down their eyes as they look upwards to the leaking roof that their son had promised to fix when he came back from Longewala. As the song plays on, Major Kuldip Singh continues to scan the dead bodies of soldiers and the area where the battle had taken place the night before. We see, through his eyes, the body of a dead soldier holding open his wallet to a picture of his wife. We see five women clad in a burqa in their 201 courtyard praying for their dead relative. We see the mother of one of the soldiers who was supposed to get married upon his return looking anxiously for her son with a garland in her hands and his bride-to-be in tow. As the line "air is misty from explosions" plays in the background we're taken to the other side of the border in Pakistan (Dutta 1997). The sight is almost the same - dead bodies of Pakistani soldiers with one possible exception - there are no signs of life beyond combat. It's almost as if these soldiers have no other identity than the 'enemy' as their humanity is held suspect. Suddenly, as we hear the words "it smells like Death" we see the mother of the soldier again (Dutta 1997). Wedding garland still in hand, she continues walking through the carnage of dead bodies on the battlefront trying to find her son just as frantically, perhaps even maniacally. We are then taken back to scenes of lamentation in the villages and towns from where the Indian soldiers came - orphaned infants, widowed women, graves being dug, pyres being lit are all images that overwhelm the viewer. Suddenly, as we hear the words "faces and hearts seem turned to stone" we see that the Pakistani Prisoner of War who had apprised Major

Chandpuri of the Pakistani Army's plans is lying dead (Dutta 1997). Major Chandpuri recalls meeting him and suddenly we hear the words: "my enemy, my brother, my neighbor" (Dutta

1997). The death, the carnage, the destruction, the distress - all of these remind us of war's ugly side. Interestingly enough, until now, the film continued to focus on the glory associated with combat - that of the soldier exhibiting national pride and his willingness to die for the nation.

However, with the war having ended, we are reminded of the abyss that it is. In fact, the narrative of the film resembles the technical structure of most soldier accounts - where combat is legitimated in the name of national pride and appeals to loving the nation to the point where one is willing to die for it. An almost inhuman, single-minded nationalism that doesn't - or perhaps can't afford to - entertain any other thoughts. And so, it makes sense to think of the 'other' first and foremost as 'enemy' - as the first word of the last line in this verse reminds us. However, the last two words serve as reminders of additional ways in which the 'other' is conceptualized: as a brother, as a neighbor. What about these relationships? Do these more amicable ways of being 202 also compel us to go to war with one another? Can we perhaps locate in these narrations a hope for peace if we start thinking of the 'other' in terms that are conventionally10 referred to as less belligerent? Is the death and destruction worth it? These are all questions that the words and visuals of the second verse of this song grapple with.

As the song proceeds with the second verse, the visuals show us evidence of more destruction and gloom. Dead bodies and distraught faces overwhelm Major Kuldip Singh

Chandpuri. He can't see anything else around him. The images of soldiers celebrating their victory are short-lived as they face the harsher realities of the end of war - i.e. reclaiming the bodies of the dead. Among the dead are not only comrades but dear friends who have practically become family. We hear the words again that remind us of the relationship the 'other' has with the

'self': "my enemy, my brother, my neighbor".

The third verse of the song and its accompanying visuals question the' purpose of the endless cycle of violence occurring between India and Pakistan. The India-Pakistan War of 1971 has already been preceded by two other wars - 1947-1948 and 1965 - since the two nations were born. We see Major Kuldip Singh Chandpuri comforting one of his men whom he's been in the army with for several years now. They both mourn the death of one of their batch-mates -

Ratan Singh whose elderly parents we were introduced to towards the beginning of this song.

So far, the visuals of the song showed a marked difference between 'India' and

'Pakistan'. The dead bodies are separated by a border-post, rather a pillar, that tells us which side of the marker is India and which side is Pakistan. Even though the carnage is strewn everywhere we see distinct markers of the soldiers "lndian-ness" or "Pakistani-ness" - the

10 What I mean by using the word conventionally here is the commonly accepted notion that it is a particular narration of the 'other' that produces 'self-other relations'. This is not inaccurate per se but this claim, in the majority of scholarship on identity and conflict, tends to presume that these narratives are static categories that are easy to separate from the outcome so as to produce a causal account along the lines of X produces Y. As the conclusion will elaborate, this is certainly easier said than done. The causal logic is certainly connected such that bounding practices legitimate outcomes but it must be borne in mind that it's not so simple so that we can separate the two for they tend to be co-constitutive. More simply even, trying to separate the two often descends into the proverbial chicken and egg debate. This issue will be further clarified in chapter 7. 203

helmets and the labels on their uniforms are different. Additionally, all the soldiers on the

Pakistani side bear a crescent on their uniform - a visible sign of them being 'Muslims'. On the

other hand, the dead bodies on the Indian side belong to multiple faiths. We know this not

because of markers on their uniform - that would go against the logic of a 'secular India' whose

nationalism, unlike that of Pakistan's, isn't portrayed as committed to a religiosity that taints the

very spirit of 'nationalism' which ought to be a commitment to more logical principles according to

.the Indian national narrative. The faith of the soldiers is evident only in the burials they are being

given - graves are dug for the Muslims and pyres are lit for the Hindus. Burqa-clad women mourn

for the Muslim soldiers and women with bindis (red dots) on their foreheads mourn for the loss of

their Hindu loved ones.

However, the distinctions fade away and are difficult to discern once we hear the words

"[t]he same scenes of destruction can be seen in both your home and mine" (Dutta 1997).

We see women, we see babies, we see the destruction caused by explosions in

villages. At this point, it's difficult to figure out whether the sites or people being shown are Indian

or Pakistani. The visuals and the words of the song transmit the same message loud and clear -

no matter what the rationales are for fighting, the havoc on both sides is equally destructive,

equally shameful, and equally unneccsary.

The lyrics that play next pose the same question to both sides: "when will this border

cease to be the hell that it has become because of the perpetuation of hatred?" (Dutta 1997).

Suddenly, scenes of war return to the song. We see tankers moving in a straight line making their

way to a battlefield. We can't tell whether these are Indian or Pakistani. The camera suddenly

pans to a wider view of the border. The battlefront is not just an isolated piece of land, the visuals

tells us; they are, in fact, at the frontlines of civilization and in the midst of where people dwell.

Adjacent to the tankers making their way to the battlefield, are villages with paved roads and

electricity wires. These visuals suggest that civilization itself has been taken hostage by the India­

Pakistan conflict. The song asks why fields are being used to store guns instead of planting 204

(Dutta 1997). This is particularly poignant for it is a well-documented fact that a significant percentage of the populations of India and Pakistan, especially in the rural areas, are so poor that they hardly know where their next meal is coming from. During my travels to the India-Pakistan border, I discovered one complaint that most villagers shared: that the armies of both nations had

(forcibly) occupied land that they could use to grow grains if it weren't for the senseless fighting.

One of the villagers, Fazila, with whom I spoke in a border town in Pakistan had a peculiar dilemma (2006). The land owned by her family for centuries had been used to cultivate rice.

Following partition, it so worked out that a chunk of her land fell in India and the other in Pakistan.

Up until sometime in the 1960s (date-keeping isn't as precise in these areas as it is in the cities), this lady's family had been able to plant rice on their field. However, because of the increasing hostility between India and Pakistan, a fence was erected right bang in the middle of their land.

She complained that, as Pakistanis, they were only allowed to tend to the side of their field in

Indian territory once a week thereby restricting her family's main source of income. So, as the song goes on to ask, given the existing state of affairs where hunger and poverty continue to be challenges, is a war that exacerbates this problem even worth it? Is the hatred worth the cost? As this question is raised we are shown visuals of villages that, even though occupied, seem deserted. Weak cows and buffaloes. Empty streets where children once played. That is the havoc that this animosity has wreaked in Pakistan and India. We are shown the real human cost that lasts well after a military confrontation has ended.

So, as the final verse begins, we see a glimmer of hope: the sun setting and then rising from behind a tanker. Earlier in the song, the reference to religious imagery established that this conflict has a lot to do with faith. The separation between India and Pakistan is primarily about religion. The middle of the song reminds us of the suffering that this conflict has brought about.

This last stanza leads us down a different path. As the setting and rising of the sun suggest a temporal shift, this verse adds to the symbolism in speaking of an ending and a new beginning.

The old days - symbolized by the setting of the sun - speak of the violence that has been the 205 past and present of Indians and Pakistanis. The rising of the sun brings with it a new day and a new promise - perhaps of peace and the termination of what has been so far an endless cycle of fighting. The visuals speak in metaphors of the sentiments that the lyrics express. Against the backdrop of a sun that is now rising (but not yet risen), we see the Pakistani and Indian flags being hoisted as they are superimposed on the sky. We hear the words "no more fires ablaze, gardens blooming on your side of the border, on my side of the border" (Dutta 1997). As both flags flutter, the sun continues to rise in the sky. A dove, symbolizing peace, flies across the screen. The song and the film end with a shot of the bird in the middle of the Indian and Pakistani flags. We hear the following words before the screen goes blank: "Your country and my country too. My friend, my brother, my neighbor."

The word 'enemy' has gone out of the vocabulary completely at this juncture. Certainly a warm, fuzzy feeling. Certainly something to aspire to and work towards. After all, that's the path to peace and prosperity.

However, that is not all that is implied here. If we pay attention to the visual symbolism of the song, and take the broader context of the film into account, there is more to this narrative than meets the eye on a cursory glance.

As explicated in the two scenes from Border discussed earlier in this section, the

Pakistani 'other' is narrated as an irrational rabble-rouser who, in the name of religion, has caused there to be animosity between brothers and a split of Mother India. The Indian 'self' has to retaliate to protect the nation from further corruption by a 'wayward brother' who has gone outside the fold of the family as it were. Not only that, It is the Indian 'self' who is rational enough to point out that this violence, wreaks similar havoc on both sides of the border while the Pakistani 'other' continues to illegally enter Mother India to violate her further. Accordingly, the blame is placed squarely on the shoulders of a Pakistan that subscribes to a nationalism that looks towards religion for its existence is, within the context of this song, not something that the Indian national

'self' even considers. Think back to the scenes in which the dead bodies are shown in this song. 206

The religious imagery associated with the corpses of the Pakistani soldiers contrasted against their Indian counterparts for whom expressions of faith and religious affiliation are shown as afterthoughts is suggestive in this regard. In this song, as well as in other key scenes of the film where we see characters grappling with the bounding of 'self' as distinct from 'other', we are introduced to the ways in which 'religion' is deployed in the Indian narrative. Briefly, the 'Indian' self sees the 'Pakistani' other as consumed by its pursuit of religion as the source of an illegitimate nationalism. We see a similar idea echoed by Miyan whose Quran is rescued by

Captain Bhairav Singh just as war breaks out. Additionally, the differentiation between the

Pakistani POW who is simply following the orders of his higher-ups who make outlandish and hyperbolic statements about the Indian cities they plan to take over reveals that there are two kinds of Pakistanis/Pakistan in the Indian imagination: one who considers India as 'enemy' because of jihadist sentiments and the other who isn't invested in this fighting at all and probably sees the 'Indian' other as a friend and neighbor. Once again, the Indian narration of religion argues that it is Pakistan's illogical use of religion in an arena where there is no space for it that is the cause of bitter divisiveness.

As the song ends, we find pathways to peace, stability, and friendship being located in appeals to a more generalized humanity. One that can rise beyond jingoistic nationalist pride and respond with empathy to the destruction and economic backwardness that are an outcome of this ongoing, senseless fighting. There is a common sense of loss that unites the Indian and Pakistani whether it's through hungry kids or the destruction of a land that was once beautiful. Similar to the debates at the time of the freedom movement in pre-partition India, there is an effort to spur people to rise above the divisiveness of nationhood and focus on that which the 'self' has in common with the 'enemy' so as to forget hostility and resentments in order to let love for the

'other' take its place. In this sense, peace is crafted out of the utopia of a united India in which multiple faiths could have dwelled in peace and harmony as they did for centuries. It is this emphasis on 'commonality' that the 'Indian self' appealed to in order to launch a protest against 207 territorial separation; it is the same notion to which it now appeals in the interest of achieving peace. This appeal to humanity and commonality as a source in which to seek the possibility of peaceful coexistence is explored in greater depth in the film Veer-Zaara to which I now turn.

Veer-Zaara, Scene 4: 'Other' as Enemy vs. 'Other' as Human like 'us'?

Here I will discuss the multiple ways in which the protagonist, Veer, is characterized during his trial in the film Veer-Zaara (2005). The remarks made by four different characters provide us with multiple constructions of the 'other'.

This scene opens with the opening remarks of Zakir Ahmed, the prosecution lawyer representing the government of Pakistan in this trial. The text of his speech is included below:

Your Honor. A man has been in prison for the last twenty-two years. That prison is in Pakistan. And that man, who has been imprisoned in a Pakistani jail for the last twenty­ two years, is an Indian. Hearing this all of us present here in this courtroom today might tear up. We'll hope for some way - any way - to send this man back to his country, to his home. Because we are human. Because we have been taught to respect all human beings. But, Your Honor, a court of law is able to see what we humans are too blind to see. According to law, a state is bigger than any individual, a country is bigger than an individual. And that person who works against a country deserves more than just twenty­ two years in prison; he deserved to be sentenced to death twenty-two times - in fact, even that is too insignificant a punishment for such a person! This case is as transparent as water, Your Honor. There is no room for doubt here. In just thirty minutes and with the testimony of just three persons, Prosecution can prove beyond the shadow of any doubt that defendant Rajesh Rathore is not worthy of being sent back to his country or his home till his dying day. (Chopra 2005)

For Zakir Ahmed, Veer is Rajesh Rathore - the false identity that Veer is coerced into accepting by Zaara's fiance. Rajesh Rathore is an Indian spy working against Pakistan. Under these circumstances, no other narrative of self-other relations is permissible for Zakir Ahmed. For him, a spy is a spy is a spy no matter how many pleas of humanity are registered. Contrast this against the opening remarks of Saamiya Siddiqui who is Veer's lawyer: .

Saamiya: Your Honor, Prosecution Council, Mr. Zaheer Khan was very quick to say ... Zakir Ahmed interrupts: Zakir Ahmed! Saamiya: [ignoring the interruption] ... that this case is as transparent as water. But Mr. Zaheer Khan is forgetting that. .. Zakir Ahmed: [getting up angrily] Ms. Saamiya Siddiqui! My name is Zakir Ahmed! 208

Saamiya: You've been called by a name that is not your own just once and are protesting so vociferously instantly. I urge you to think about how you would react if every single day for the next twenty-two years you were to be called by a name that is not yours. Can you imagine how you would feel? [shouting at Zakir Ahmed at this point]. Your Honor, this case is not being fought merely to send an Indian back to his country or his home. This case is being fought to give .a man back his identity, his individuality. Someone is requesting you to give him back his name, his identity, your Honor! What he's trying to tell you is "I'm Veer Pratap Singh; ex-Indian Air Force Officer Squadron Leader, Veer Pratap Singh; Just give me back the respect that my name carries. I don't want anything else." You Honor, I might not be able to wrap this case up in thirty minutes like the Prosecutor claims to be able to do but I will definitely prove that this man is not Rajesh Rathore but Veer Pratap Singh. After that, whether he goes back to India or stays in Pakistan - that decision is yours. That's all your Honor. (Chopra 2005)

Veer is narrated by Saamiya Siddiqui as an innocent Indian who has committed no crimes against Pakistan. At this point in the trial, she has no proof of his identity as Veer Pratap Singh except for her faith in his story as well as her own commitment to protecting the rights of other human beings. As Ahmed mentioned earlier, the only plea she can register is one based on humanity- emotionally stirring but inadmissible as legal proof. Whatever the legal status might be of her opening remarks, it is important to note that both these lawyers present us with two Indian

'others' as they might be perceived in Pakistani discourse. The first is Rajesh Rathore - a fictitious person, specifically an Indian intelligence agent, who has been accused of spying on Pakistan.

For Zakir Ahmed, Veer and Rajesh Rathore are the same person. Saamiya's case is built around the claim that Veer and Rajesh Rathore are not the same. That's the only difference between these two arguments: whether or not Veer is Rajesh Rathore. Saamiya, having heard Veer's story when she visits him in his prison cell, does not try to prove that Rajesh Rathore is innocent but, rather, that Veer is not Rajesh Rathore. This implies that neither Zakir Ahmed nor Saamiya

Siddiqui would question the conviction of an Indian intelligence agent spying on Pakistan at the end of this case. So, on the one hand, we have an Indian 'other' who is a spy and deserves to be punished. On the other, we have, in the form of Veer's real identity, an Indian 'other' against whom animosity isn't justified for he has done nothing wrong. Implicit in this imagination are two different kinds of the 'Indian other' in the imagination of the 'Pakistani self'. First, there is one who is seen as an aggressor and should be punished to the fullest extent of the law. The second is 209 with whom there is no quarrel - perhaps because of references to shared qualities or because of a different interpretation of being 'Pakistani' in which something other than the annihilation of the

Indian 'other' is desirable.

As the trial proceeds, two individuals take the stand on the first day. The first is Police

Inspector Dilbaz Khan. Inspector Khan is the first witness called to the stand by the Prosecution.

He was one of the officers who took Veer into police custody just as he boarded the bus to leave I Pakistan.

Zakir Ahmed: Can you tell the court, without any doubt or suspicion, who this [pointing to Veer] man is? Inspector Khan: Yes Sir, I remember him very well. He is Rajesh Rathore, a spy from India, an agent of RAW (Indian intelligence). About twenty-two years ago, I arrested him with my colleague Anwar Ali. We forced him to get off from a bus that was going to India from Lahore and arrested him. We had received a report from the intelligence agency that this man was conspiring against Pakistan. (Chopra 2005)

Inspector Khan's testimony is fairly cut and dry. It refutes Saamiya Siddiqui's claim that Veer is not Rajesh Rathore and is, therefore, by implication, punishable to the fullest extent of the law.

However, contrast this against the fourth, and final, testimony of that day. Majid Khan, the jailer where Veer has been in prison for the last twenty-two years, takes the stand as a witness called on by the defense lawyer and describes the Indian 'other' on trial as follows:

Majid Khan: I've been seeing this man for the last 10 years. He keeps to himself and he's very quiet. Doesn't communicate with anyone. But yes, whenever he sees a prisoner ill or upset he would be the first to go up to him for comfort and to take care of him. I don't know if he is Veer Pratap Singh or Rajesh Rathore; for me he is on/y786 - the man of Allah. Yes Sir, this Hindu from India here is Allah's noble servant. He's already spent twenty-two years in prison - that's too great a punishment for someone who is Allah's own man, for someone who is a wonderful human being. Send him back to his homeland, please send him back Sir, send him back. (Chopra 2005)

Inspector Majid Khan cannot help but point out the significance of the number he has been allotted as a prisoner - 786. This is the number that Muslims, especially in South Asia, often use as a shorthand for the phrase "Bismillah-ir-Rehman-Ar-Raheem"(ln the Name of Allah, the

Beneficient, the Merciful). It is a phrase that is used at the beginning of every Sura or chapter in the Quran. Muslims believe that all they do and say must be prefaced with this phrase for it shows obedience to Allah and brings good luck. Earlier in the film, Inspector Majid Khan 210 continues to express his annoyance and hatred for Veer. However, when Saamiya comes to the jail for the first time, she points out to Inspector Khan that he ought to pay attention to what his prisoner number is. He is startled when he notices the number "786". From this point onwards, his attitude towards Veer changes completely. Previously angered by his identity as an Indian intelligence agent conspiring against Pakistan, Inspector Majid Khan is willing to let all of that go when he sees a sacred Muslim number assigned to a Hindu Indian. For him, this means that Veer is special. It is from this point onwards that he notices all the good that Veer does. These very observations shape his testimony in court. Here 'religion' enters the picture in the sense of something miraculous or extraordinary. It is worth mentioning here that even for the character

Saamiya who seems enlightened enough because she is a humans right lawyer, there is a need to appeal to the narrative of commonality that isn't bound by. hatred but, instead, looks to establishing some sort of common ground as a basis for a relationship defined by something other than animosity. It is not suggested here in this scene that the religious divide between a

Hindu India and a Muslim Pakistan is irrelevant. Rather, we have the power of what feels like a miracle or like something extraordinary. Inspector Majid Kh_an is stunned into silence when he notices that Veer is prisoner number 786. This means, to him at least, that this prisoner must be treated with respect and dignity. It's a symbol for him that this man could not have done anything wrong. It's a sign from God, as far as Majid Khan and Saamiya are concerned. Surely an interesting contrast against the more dominant vitriolic proclamations of hatred in the name of religion which also serves as a reminder that 'religion' itself is not what causes a relationship between two actors but their particular deployments of it that shape their actions and the political order that is birthed from it. For example, if we take a look at Majid Khan it was as a Muslim

Pakistani that he initially loathed a Hindu Indian spy and it was an appeal to the same faith that led him to change his opinion and see "a man of God" even if he is a Hindu. 211

Likewise, in the remarks of each of these four characters, we can see that each has his/her own rationale for how they conceptualize Veer as the 'other' in their midst. Two basic narratives confront each other in this exchange.

The first is that of Indian 'other' as enemy. In the second instance, we see the Indian

'other' articulated as friend/human as espoused by Saamiya and Inspector Majid Khan. For

Saamiya, as we see throughout the film, human rights trump everything else. She believes in the basic dignity of humankind and in the power of justice. For her, it isn't as easy to buy the fact that every Indian in Pakistan is a potential criminal. Her father fought for the rights of those who had been treated unjustly. It's her chance to do the same. In this narrative, religion is not irrelevant.

We see her praying to God for help in winning her case. We see her visiting her father's grave­ site multiple times. It is Saamiya who points out to Inspector Majid Khan that Veer is prisoner number 786. The only difference is that in this situation her religiosity does not become an expression of hatred. She's like countless other Pakistanis for whom religion isn't the basis for annihilation of the 'other'. For these individuals, those who wished to escape from Hindu domination to live a life of freedom got a separate Muslim state in 1947. That's where the matter of animosity and separatism ended. As mentioned earlier, for someone like Inspector Majid Khan, religious symbolism is relevant in altering his treatment of Veer. However, it does not inform his earlier hatred for Veer for that found its basis in the charge that he was an Indian spy conspiring against Pakistan; so patriotism rather than religious fundamentalism is the foundation for his dislike of and contempt for Veer's character. That he is prisoner number 786 doesn't lead

Inspector Majid to proclaim Veer as a Muslim or as someone who is inherently Pakistani; he certainly doesn't go that far. It does, however, justify labeling Veer as a "man of God" who ought to be sent back to his country to live a life of dignity because he is a genuinely good human who deserves that chance. That Veer isn't a criminal and is a person of virtuous conduct implies that he ought to be able to do the same in the eyes of 'Inspector Majid Khan. Here religiosity isn't deployed in ways that justifies either difference or similarity but, simply, as the rationale of 212 respecting the right of a virtuous individual to live in the land of his birth. This is certainly a different brand of nationalism that looks to religiosity for its logic. The notion it perhaps draws on inspiration is much the same as the Pakistani claim for a Muslim homeland - to live in freedom and to be able to practice one's faith without fear of oppression. Or perhaps it is a subtle reminder of an 'Indian secular' perspective of the lines along which 'Pakistani-ness' ought to think; after all it is an 'Indian' text in which most of the film takes place in 'Pakistan'.

This back-and-forth of different perspectives between the legal counsels and witnesses is instructive in so far that it highlights the complexity of articulations of 'self-other relations' in the

India-Pakistan context. The way in which this exchange is focused on one character- Veer - serves to remind us that the same actor can be rendered meaning-full in multiple ways. To understand the significance of this let me return to the opposing ways in which Zakir Ahmed and

Saamiya construct Veer.

For Zakir Ahmed, as an Indian spy, Veer is unpalatable. For Saamiya, Veer is a human being just like she is thereby rendering friendship a distinct possible and a sincere desire.

Consider the fact that Zakir Ahmed is portrayed throughout the film as a ruthless lawyer who not only loses at the end but is shown admitting to his obsession with 'winning' over 'truth' and

'justice' which h.e. as a lawyer, ought to uphold. What is established then through his character is that it is only bigotry that is responsible for the perpetual of conflictual relations. Let us juxtapose against this the character of Saamiya. She is a human rights lawyer who, despite being a

Pakistani, goes out of her way to help an Indian who is an alleged spy. Saamiya is by no means irreligious. We are shown her visiting her father's grave and praying to God .. However, her religiosity is not divisive. Other than Zaara, she is the only 'Pakistani' who cares enough to rescue

Veer. She cares enough to put Inspector Majid Khan in his place who looks at Veer with contempt by reminding him of the connection Veer's prisoner number has with all things holy.

Thus Saamiya and Zakir Ahmed represent two different Pakistans just like we saw in

Border. The one which Zakir Ahmed represents is clearly bigoted. What is not revealed is why 213 this is the case. Nonetheless, that he is mounted as a negative character is suggestive of the fact that whatever the reason might be, what is more important is the fact that his way is wrong. After all, he can't even recognize Veer and insists on seeing him wrongly. Saamiya, on the other hand, is perhaps representative of a different kind of religiosity that is inclusive. One in which India and

Pakistan are divided only by boundaries but not in reality. Here we see, then, a secular vision of religiosity much like the one to which the Indian national narrative subscribes perhaps implying that it is this that is superior for it is in this kind of articulation that friendship is a distinct possibility.

Veer-Zaara, Scene 5: Commonality trumps all

It is only fitting that we turn to Veer's characterization of the 'other' and of the difference between 'India' and 'Pakistan' after having examined some of the ways in which he is described as the Indian 'other' from a Pakistani perspective (albeit from the eyes of an Indian writer) to stand as a contrast against the previous scene.

Veer's innocence is proved when Saamiya travels to India and finds Zaara living in

Veer's old house. She brings Zaara to court along with the identification papers and photographs from his house as proof that he is Veer Pratap Singh and not Rajesh Rathore. Following Zaara's testimony as well as the evidence (documentation and photographs) she provides, the court exonerates him of all charges against him of being an Indian spy. The judge presiding over the case apologizes to Veer on behalf of the government of Pakistan for the obvious injustice he has suffered having languished in jail for 22 years for a crime he did not commit. At this point, Veer is given permission to share any thoughts he might have which he does in the form of the following poem:

I, prisoner number 786, Look outside through the bars of the jail. I see days, months, and years changing into eons. From the fragrance of this land also comes the fragrance of my Bauji's11 (father's) fields.

11 Translated in English as "father." 214

The burning sun reminds me of my Maati's 12 cool, soothing buttermilk. This rain brings along with it the swings of my seasons. This winter fills me with the warmth of the fires that burnt during my Lodi (festival). They say that this is not your country then why does it feel like mine? He says that I am not like him but then why do I feel he is like me?

I, prisoner number 786, Look outside through the bars of the jail. I see a tiny little angel who has come down from heaven with hopes and dreams. She calls herself Saamiya, and calls me Veer. She's a complete stranger to me but treats me like I'm her own. Hearing her truthful words I feel like living once again. Listening to her vows and promises, I too feel inspired to do something. They say she's no-one of mine but why does she fight against the world for me? They say I'm not like her then why does she look like me?

I, prisoner number 786, Look outside through the bars of the jail. I see my Zaara, a new Zaara, wrapped in the colors of my village. She's been so busy making my dreams into reality that she's forgotten her own. She's been so busy helping my people, serving them, that she's forgotten her own. Now I feel like giving her all the happiness and joy there is in the world. Now I feel like living another lifetime just for her. They say that my country is not hers, then why does she live in my home? They say I'm not like her then why does she look like me?

I, prisoner number 786, Look outside through the bars of the jail.

I have no more to say .... [receives standing ovation by those present in court]. (Chopra 2005; bold emphasis added)

It is indeed difficult to begin to summarize and reflect upon the plethora of emotions conveyed here. As a Pakistani who has grown up experiencing this conflict in ways that make me think along the same lines, it comes too close to home for me in very personal ways that are too overwhelming to put into words just yet. However, I offer a few observations that are by no means exhaustive.

In the comparisons that the character of Veer sets up in this poem, we find him narrating a certain affinity between India and Pakistan, between his Indian 'self' and the different

Pakistani 'others' whom he has encountered. Once again, we find here an ode to the narrative of commonality to locate the possibility of an amicable relationship.

12 Translated in English as "mother." 215

The land of Pakistan reminds him of the fields his father owned and worked on in their small village in Indian Punjab. The generosity and warmth of a Pakistani girl, Saamiya, who doesn't know him from Adam but fights on his behalf like he is her own touches him and makes him rethink the distances that others refer to when talking about 'self' and 'other' in the India­

Pakistan context. In his Zaara he now sees not just Pakistan like he did the first time he met her but also the shades of his village in India. All in all, different, yet, at the same time, similar.

We also find Veer contemplating the divisiveness of difference that Indians and

Pakist9nis talk about. For example, the fact that Zaara now lives in his home in India presents an interesting enigma. Why would a Pakistani go live in India and serve those very Indians her

Pakistani-ness ought to have taught her to hate? If the differences are so great, how could she bring herself to do that even if in the name of love for a man named Veer? Perhaps love conquers all in this instance; perhaps the difference does not mean animosity in this case like it does in most others. Veer goes on to wonder then why his Pakistani counterparts c.an't see that he's similar to them even though to him it's obvious how much they share. If Zaara can see it, if

Saamiya can see it, if he can see it, then why can't others?

Interestingly enough, we see a similar theme emerging, at least by implication, as we did in the song at the end of the war in Border analyzed earlier in this chapter. Once you take religion out of the mix, like Veer and Zaara did, you begin to see not only the similarities that bind us but you uncover a desire to be friends and live in peace. In this vein, this narration is heavily reliant on the narrative of Indian secularism which insists upon the illegitimacy of religion as a basis of collective national identification; that it is only in the absence of religious bases of identity that peace is promoted it is but obvious that secular nationalism is by far superior. How is that?

Well it's only a belief in a non-religious nationalism that allows someone like to Zaara live in Veer's village. In fact, difference between 'India' and 'Pakistan' is symbolically erased in so far that visually Zaara becomes the spitting image of Veer's aunty (who we met earlier in the film) in that she dresses like her, speaks like her, and pretty much adopts every mannerism of hers. 216

We are told that Zaara has been wrapped in the colors of Veer's village in this poetic rendition

(Chopra 2005).

Similarly, Saamiya sees beyond the Veer who has thus far existed in Pakistan as an

Indian/Hindu spy. Inspector Majid Khan's heart softens when he is made to notice that Veer is prisoner number 786.

The basic message here is that if you focus on what's similar and exclude the religious or nationalist sentiments that have a distinctly separationist impulse then friendship and peace are inevitable. We look alike, we have the power to live each other's dreams - perhaps because our dreams are just as alike as we seem to be. And, if we can somehow recognize that, then perhaps just like Zaara we can blend in easily on either side of the border. The difference just becomes irrelevant as it did in her case.

In this vein, we see an appeal to commonality akin to the one deployed in pre-partition

India by countless individuals, most notably in partition literature, that didn't take sides in the

Hindu-Muslim divide. This perspective remained mute on the legitimacy or illegitimacy of the two- nation theory. However, it raised its voice against the end to which this philosophy was directed - i.e. territorial division. Similarly, Veer's poem takes us back to that way of thinking. It doesn't denounce a consciousness of different per se but it certainly emphasizes commonality as the way forward.

Chak De! India. Scene 6: Religion. Sports. and Bounding the 'Other' Within

The film opens with a men's hockey match in which the Indian team, under Kabir

Khan's captaincy, is playing archrivals Pakistan. We don't need to be told that this character is

Muslim - we know by his last name that he belongs to the Islamic faith.

In a matter of a couple of minutes, we are shown that Kabir Khan misses a penalty stroke and India loses the match. Khan and his team are disappointed. However, Khan, playing the role of a good sportsman, goes over to congratulate the Pakistani captain. Their handshake is 217

captured in a photograph and published in the newspapers. That is when all hell breaks loose.

Why is that?

If Khan, who is a Muslim, shook hands with a Pakistani it can only mean one thing: he

made a deal with the Pakistanis to ensure India's loss and Pakistan's victory. Nothing worse than

losing to Pakistan if you're India or vice versa for sports seems to function mythically as a

battlefield anytime India or Pakistan play against each other. Of course the match was fixed. Why

else would Khan shake the hands of a Pakistani after losing to them?

The scene ends with Khan being dishonorably dismissed from the Indian hockey team.

The walls of his home are covered with graffiti blaming him for the defeat and calling him a traitor.

He is taunted everywhere he goes and can't show his face in public. So Khan leaves, along with

his mother, to live a life in oblivion. He returns several years later to coach the Indian women's

hockey team for the World Cup and only when they win does he redeem himself as a true Indian.

Interesting how this works.

During his tenure as captain, we see Khan being lauded because he's brought his team to the final match and that too for a showdown against Pakistan. That a Muslim heads the team is

celebrated as evidence of the triumph of Indian's secular nationalism. Faith doesn't matter, it's

your skill and hard work. That's the Indian mantra, we are told. However, Khan misses the

penalty stroke and the tables are turned. It's his very faith - rather the evidence of his being

Muslim that is clearly evident in his last name - that causes the people around him to suspect him of having missed the goal deliberately. He's a Muslim and so his allegiances lie with Pakistan.we

are told. Khan's pleas fall on deaf ears. That he beats up the journalist who questions his lndian­

ness after the match ends is simply further proof that he must have conspired with the Pakistanis.

And so Khan falls from grace. Why?

Because the minute religion enters the interpretive context of an India-Pakistan match, a Muslim, to extend Pandey's words, might not be an Indian (1999). That Khan loses to Pakistan

is equated with a betrayal of lndian-ness all in the name of religion. In some respects, that is akin 218 to what the Nehru-inspired reaction to the two-nation theory also encapsulates - not only is religion as a basis of uniting a national collective deemed irrational it is simultaneously un-lndian for these "fissiparious tendencies" gnaw away at the very unity that is the hallmark of India

(Embree 2005, 145). That, at least, is how Khan's failure is made sense of.

Alternatively, it also perhaps questions the validity of the secular argument and the accommodation of multiple faiths within an Indian unity. However, this does not mean that the converse is true i.e. it does not mean that Jinnah and company were right to insist that the Muslim could not survive in a united India. If Kabir Khan fell from grace, he never questioned his own lndian-ness. We see him return to the field, this time as a coach of a women's hockey team in whom nobody believed but who, under Khan's leadership put 'India' on the map as world champions. This restores his standing as an Indian when he returns among his old neighbors in his village after leading the women's team to victory. Those who called him traitor now stand to welcome him with open arms.

Perhaps the message is that Indian secularism might experience hiccups every now and then but it is still in tact.

Concluding Reflections: India-Pakistan Relations In Bollywood Films

Before I proceed towards a concluding analysis of this chapter, it bears repeating that much like the sites analyzed in this investigation, the scenes analyzed in this chapter are not to be taken as exhaustive, but, rather, illustrative. They proffer access to the discursive strategies deployed by actors in contexts ranging from soldiers in a battlefield as well as in conversations between strangers from opposite sides of the border as well as between fellow-countrymen belonging to different faiths.

In the context of Bollywood films, we see that the these texts, as part of the discursive landscape of India-Pakistan relations not only shed light on the various bounding practices that go into the making of 'self', 'other', and 'self-other relations' but they also relay an important 219 message. As mentioned earlier in this chapter, films take on an important role in the postcolonial context in debates on nationalism where they function not only as a source of entertainment but also take on added significance as purveyors of socially relevant messages. In this vein, these texts are critical to an investigation such as this one in so far that questions about 'nationhood' or

'nationalism' or 'national identity' and 'political order' shape the discourse of the genre of films in which India-Pakistan relations remain the central theme in Bollywood.

Tracing the ways in which 'India' and 'Pakistan' are articulated in the discursive site that is Bollywood films on India-Pakistan relations reminds us that the debates around the 'two-nation theory' that prevailed during the freedom movement in British India continue to be deployed in the present day as well. In that sense, the two-nation theory is very much the ethical imaginary that informs negotiations of 'lndian-ness' and 'Pakistani-ness'.

To recapitulate, the key opposition that emerges in the 'other as enemy' narrative can be identified in two vastly different pairings organized around the role of religion in imagining the natioh.

First, is that of the pairing fundamentalism/secularism. Dominant in legitimating the

Pakistani 'other' as 'enemy' in the Indian national imagination, this argument is premised upon debates in British India often described as Nehruvian in which the very notion of 'religion' as a means to bound a modern concept like that of the 'nation-state' was not only deemed absurd but also deviant. Thus, the Pakistani 'other' that seeks to capture 'Delhi' in Border is someone who must be stopped dead in his/her tracks in the interest of protecting India from disintegration (as was the case with the partition itself in 1947) or harm. Legitimation of the 'Pakistani other' as

'enemy' is very much anchored in the Nehruvian vision of the 'Indian nation' as a secular space. lrJ British India, this move allowed for the insistence on the part of the majority of the members of the Indian National Congress that the notion of a separate Muslim state carved out of the territory that is India was ludicrous and illogical. It went against the very grain of 'lndian-ness'. Claiming the Pakistani 'other' as motivated solely by religion, justifies something like a military conflict in 220

the name of protecting the nation. Pakistan butchered the territorial integrity of India once. They

shouldn't be allowed to get away with it again as evidenced in Border where the war of 1971

becomes a tale of India defending its territorial and national integrity against an irrational Pakistan

whose religiously motivated zeal is a threat to India. It is by no means a threat that India can't

handle but it certainly is something that has to be dealt with and nipped in the bud. The illogic, from the secular perspective whereby religiosity is equated with fundamentalism, of demanding a

separate nation in the name of religious beliefs is rather clear in the scene from Border where

Bhairav Singh returns the Quran to the man h~ rescues from the village while showing the book

proper respect. This action discounts the Pakistani claim of 'Hindu/Indian aggression' which is the

second pairing that emerges in these texts - religious nationalism/fear of domination.

The Muslims of India, as clarified in chapter 3 where I detail the historical background of the two-nation theory, campaigned for an independent state on the basis that Hindus and

Muslims belonged to different civilizations that couldn't co-exist. Not because the Muslim hated the Hindu but vice versa which meant that in independent India the Muslim, as a minority, would

be oppressed into misery by the Hindu majority whose way of life was fundamentally different..

The state of Pakistan procured its existence on this very basis. It is this very logic that allows for an Indian priosoner "Rajesh Rathore" to languish in a Pakistani prison as we see in Veer-Zaara

without any hope of a release because he supposedly committed the ultimate crime - that of

being an Indian spy. In real life, India and Pakistan continue to suspect each other of engaging in conspiracies to bring the other down as it were. It is not uncommon for completely innocent

individuals to be charged on account of being spies and taken as prisoners without any access to

legal assistance. These individuals often languish in jails across the border unless their plea is taken up directly with their governments. Yet another example of the Pakistani claim of Indian aggression can be found in Chak De! India where Captain Kabir's allegiance to his nation is suspect because he's seen shaking hands with his Pakistani counterpart after India loses a hockey final in which both teams were playing. Losing to Pakistan and shaking hands with a 221

Pakistani can only mean one thing - that Kabir has betrayed India. Why? Only because he's a

Muslim and, therefore, presumed to be more inclined towards siding with Pakistan. That he's vindicated at the end of the film when he leads the Indian women's hockey team to victory in the

World Cup and welcomed with pride in the same village where he was humiliated and forced to leave tells the narrative of religious bigotry that Pakistan feared all along would be its fate in a united India after.the departure of the British.

In all of the scenarios described thus far the 'other' is articulated as aggressive and irrational. These narrations deploy religion and its relationship with the nation but in fundamentally different ways. Nonetheless they end up in the same place i.e. a narrative in which the 'other' is the 'enemy'.

However, it is important to note that religiosity does not work solely towards furthering hatred and animosity. As part of the rhetorical strategies available to actors, religiosity here is not merely the sum of already defined articulations among which actors pick and choose but, rather, contains within it conditions of possibility that are dependent on how actors act within a given space-time particularity. Thus, it comes as no surprise that actors turn to 'religion' in the course of legitimating friendship with the 'other' who might come to be described then as a 'neighbor' or

'brother' or, at the very least, someone who isn't a threat. This is apparent, for example, in the way that Inspector Majid Khan's attitude towards Veer changes when he recognizes in the

Hindu/Indian accused of spying on Pakistan someone who is a 'man of Allah' because of the religious significance of the number assigned to him. Similarly, Zaara's and Veer's love for each other isn't bound by the confines of religion. However, for Zaara's father the thought of her marrying an Indian - and that too a Hindu - is unthinkable. In Border, we see that Major Kuldip orders his men to treat the Pakistani POW in their midst with respect and integrity once he's been interrogated. Similarly, in the concluding song at the end in Border, we see Major Kuldip appealing to universal morals of humanity as well as a different side of religious faith in which love for fellow humans is given priority over hatred for the non-believer. This is a very different 222

narrative of religion - one that is conscious of the distinction between 'self' and 'other' but that

rearticulates them so that the potential for reaching out to the 'other' as a 'friend' or 'neighbor' or

'brother' or simply as a 'fellow human being' is what is emphasized. The basic principle at work

here is the notion of 'commonality' - whether through a shared past or through basic human decency- that ought to be enough to forge coexistence and harmony much like those Muslims of

India who either opposed partition or those w.ho fought for it but also found it equally hard to

migrate from their homes leaving behind their Hindu friends who were just like family.

In these films, the overwhelming message remains that peace and friendship are more attainable if nation-ness is articulated within secular parameters. That is the 'utopia of peace' that is presented to us. It is logical. Its triumph is captured in the visuals that these films end whether

it's the shot of a pigeon, signifying peace in South Asian mythology, flying between the Indian and

Pakistani flags or the restoration of Captain Kabir Khan's glory or the walk that Veer and Zaara take between the Pakistani and Indian sides of the Wagah border as a happily married couple.

The question that then arises is why, given its desirability as well as the fact that it is envisioned as within the realm of possibility, has peace been so elusive in the India-Pakistan context. This is the task with which chapter 7 concerns itself. CHAPTER7

THE PURSUIT OF PEACE

Following attacks on the New Delhi Parliament in December 2001, tensions mounted between India and Pakistan through June 2002 as India held its nuclear rival, Pakistan, responsible for these blasts. It was during this period that troops were stationed along the border between the two rivals, leaders issued public threats of a military showdown that could involve the use of nuclear force, broadcasts of Indian and Pakistani channels was banned in Pakistan and

India respectively, and all diplomatic ties remained severed.

In November 2003, then-Pakistani President declared a ceasefire along the LoC (Line of Control) - a gesture to which the Indian government responded in kind.

January 2004 saw the Indian and Pakistani premiers, Vajpayee and Musharraf, meet on the

1 sidelines of the South Asian Association for Regional Cooperation - or, SAARC , as it is more commonly referred to - summit held in Islamabad. It was on this occasion that both India and

Pakistan committed to a "Composite Dialog Process" intended to resolve all tensions between the two countries (Puri 2008, 101 ). This was a particularly significant breakthrough as both countries pledged to address the concerns of the 'other' unlike previous occasions when dismissal of the same had been the preferred strategy. President Musharraf promised to investigate and resolve

1 SAARC is an economic and political organization that was established in April 1985 comprising of the following states: Pakistan, India, Bangladesh, Sri Lanka, Maldives, Nepal, and Bhutan. In 2007, Afghanistan joined the Association. Formed with the intention of increasing integration in the region and facilitating political dialog at the Annual Summit, SAARC has continued to face challenges in fulfilling this mandate primarily due to the rivalry between India and Pakistan. It is worth mentioning here that even though the SMRC Summit is designed to be an annual feature, these meetings have been cancelled several times as leaders of India and/or Pakistan have refused to attend in the wake of heightened tensions between the two neighboring countries. 223 224 the matter of cross-border infiltrations from Pakistan into India without which, New Delhi has maintained, no dialog or negotiation with Pakistan is possible (Hussain 2006, 412). Similarly,

India pledged to put the Kashmir issue on the table and look into human rights violations without which Islamabad has insisted no peace process with India is possible (Puri 2008, 101 ).

The composite dialog initiated in February 2004 that was an outcome of the discussions held in the backdrop of the SAARC summit has been widely termed as "the most vibrant epoch in

India-Pakistan detente" (Mattoo et al 2007, vii). Unlike previous attempts, this particular peace process has not halted completely, even if it has seen temporary suspensions, in the wake of events such as terrorist attacks in Mumbai, India in 2006 or the bombing of the Samjhauta

Express2 on February 19, 2007 on its way from Lahore, Pakistan to India or Pakistan's concerns with respect to covert operations by Indian agencies fueling the insurgency in Baluchistan (DAWN

[Karachi, Pakistan], 3 March 2007). In addition to five rounds of negotiations between high- ranking government officials, the composite dialog process has also emphasized Track II diplomacy initiatives involving retired diplomats, retired civil and military officers, journalists, intellectuals and civil society members. The latter has been particularly instrumental vis-a-vis effecting a positive change in India-Pakistan relations through media exchanges (including India-

Pakistan co-productions in the realm of TV dramas and films as well as a relative toning down of inflammatory rhetoric in these texts where the 'other' has now come to be depicted not just as

'enemy' but someone with whom the 'self' shares 'commonalities'), academic conferences, and a sustained dialog process at the level of citizens of which the most noteworthy accomplishment is the Pakistan-India People's Forum for Peace and Democracy (PIPFPD) which was established in

2 It is interesting to note that the word "Samjhauta" is translated as "Friendship" to refer to this train service. However, in Urdu as well as Hindi, the more precise translation of this word is "compromise". Established in 1976 following the between India and Pakistan, Samjhauta Express provided service between Amritsar, India and Lahore, Pakistan. However, unrest in Indian Punjab lead the Indian Railway authorities to suspend this service at Atari which is the station where customs and immigration takes place for onward travel between India and Pakistan. The Samjhauta Express continued to provide uninterrupted service until January 1, 2002 following the attacks on the Indian Parliament in New Delhi. Service resumed on January 1, 2004 as hostilities gave way to a noticeable thaw in a relationship that remains contentious to some degree or other. 225

1994 and has been an active player in the present composite dialog process to organize peace concerts and peace marches to bring both countries closer together.

Despite these changes, most admit that the peace process remain tenuous. This is particularly evident from recent developments in India-Pakistan relations.

In a speech marking India's independence in August 2008, Prime Minister Manmohan

Singh referring to the bombing of India's Embassy in Kabul on July 7, 2008 as well as recent attacks in cities like Ahmedabad that "[i]f this issue of terrorism is not addressed, all the good intentions that we have for our two peoples to live in peace and harmony will be negated. We will not be able to pursue the peace initiatives we want to take" (Reuters, 15 August 2008). Pakistan

Foreign Ministry spokesperson responded to Singh's address stating that Pakistan has always been committed to peace with India in the larger interest of the stability of South Asia unlike New

Delhi which continues to sponsor ongoing covert operations exacerbating sectarian violence within Pakistan and an assassination attempt on its ambassador to Sri Lanka in August 2006

(The News [Karachi, Pakistan), 15 August 2008). During talks held in New York in September

2008, both Pakistani President Asif Ali Zardari and Indian Prime Minister admitted that the peace process had come "under strain" but pledged their commitment to ensuring that it would not end (The Nation [Lahore, Pakistan], 25 September 2008).

However, the optimism to which these expressions of commitment gave rise stands obliterated in the wake of the Mumbai terrorist attacks which will be analyzed in greater depth in the concluding chapter of this dissertation.

While a full-scale military confrontation between the nuclear rivals might be unlikely at this juncture it has yet to be ruled out completely. Questions have already been raised in the global arena about the possibility of the use of nuclear weapons should relations between these two neighboring countries witness further deterioration in the coming days. Some officials have hinted at a short-term freeze that is bound to see a thaw with the passage of time. Others have urged a display of restraint so that the tensions that preceded the peace process can be avoided. 226

No matter where individuals fall on the spectrum of predicting the next phase of India-Pakistan relations, they are all unanimous in describing the current climate as unsettling.

At this juncture, taking a look back at the peace process that was launched in 2003, it is apparent that while optimism for a peaceful future finds justification in the overall increase of moves advanced in the spirit of accommodation and compromise the vulnerability reminds us that hope itself isn't enough of a guarantee and a lot of work remains to be done. Senator Mushahid

Hussain Sayed's words here are instructive for he reminds us that "the level of mistrust to be overcome is considerable" (2005). It is this mistrust to which intermittent strains and hiccups can be attributed.

Bearing the above in mind, the discussion contained in this chapter seeks to locate the ethical imaginaries that render peace problematic in the India-Pakistan context. To do so, I draw here on first-hand interviews with public officials as well as intellectuals and activists who have been involved, in some kind of formal and capacity and in a relatively sustained manner, in Track fl diplomacy efforts between the two countries since the 1980s. I deemed it important to pay attention to the stories and experiences of this community to understand the peace process for three reasons. The first reason has to do with access. While conversations between high-ranking officials are classified, Track II initiatives remain relatively public. Paying attention to what the players in this process have to say provides critical insights into the challenges and opportunities that India and Pakistan face vis-a-vis achieving peace. In this vein, this site is pivotal with respect to the research question guiding this investigation. Second, as part of everyday life, which is what this dissertation is focused on, .this is a rich and fertile site from which to understand self-other interactions from up-close. Third, and last, Track II diplomacy efforts have been widely heralded as a critical part of the India-Pakistan peace process. This makes it all the more necessary for us to pay attention to them to understand the prospects of peace and the persistence of conflict or contentiousness in this context. 227

This chapter begins with a note on the interviewing process used to collect the responses analyzed herein and brief biographies of the participants interviewed. My examination of the positions and opinions that the participants interviewed have taken comprises the second section of this chapter. In this discussion, I etch out both the possibilities for peace and the obstacles that complicate its achievement. The third, and final, section of this chapter draws briefly upon the analyses contained herein with the intention of providing an anchor for the concluding discussion in which I examine the peace process between India and Pakistan in the aftermath of the Mumbai terrorist attacks.

Before I proceed any further it is worth noting again that the basic principle of this investigation is to avoid getting trapped in predictive end-games. Instead, the focus remains firmly on accounting for the causal complex that has produced the current limbo in which India and .

Pakistan find themselves whereby the commitment to peace is complicated by other narratives that are very much a part of the discursive universe of being 'Indian' or 'Pakistani, as the case maybe.

A Note on the Interviewing Process and the Participants

All of the interviews included in this chapter have been conducted during the final months of the last phase of my fieldwork in 2005-2006. I was introduced to these participants in one of two ways: by other participants I interviewed or by extended family and friends who hosted me in various cities in India and Pakistan and were kind enough to put me in touch with these persons. Each individual interview lasted anywhere from 30-120 minutes. Although completely open-ended, I, as the interviewer, made a deliberate effort to focus the conversation so as to encourage the participants to share their opinions on the future of the peace process with respect to the issues that complicate as well as enhance its prospects.

The remainder of this section provides a brief introduction to the biographies, as relevant to the matter at hand, of the five participants whose interviews inform the substantive 228

3 4 discussion contained herein . It bears mentioning at this point that due to access issues and research-related constraints5 I have not been able to schedule additional interviews with either

Pakistanis or Indians who have been involved in Track II diplomacy initiatives. Nonetheless, despite the obvious lack in quantity6, these conversations provide critical insights into contemporary India-Pakistan relations from the perspective of individuals who have been center stage in the peace process.

7 Senator Mushahid Hussain Sayed is well-known in Pakistan for his illustrious career .

Recently a presidential candidate, he is the chairman of the Quaid-e-Azam faction of the Pakistan

Muslim League (PML-Q), member of the Senate Foreign Relations Committee. Prior to becoming a politician, Senator Hussain worked as a professional journalist and soon became editor of a popular Pakistani newspaper called The Muslim.

Lt. Gen (Retd.) Hamid Gui. General Gui was born in Sargodha, Pakistan (then part of the British Empire as India) in 1936. He hails from a Pathan family with its roots in the Swat

Valley in the North West Frontier Province of Pakistan. Lieutenant-General (Retd.) Gui has had a long and distinguished career in the Pakistani military from 1956 when he joined as a Lieutenant and worked his way to the rank of Director General of Military Intelligence under President-

General Zia-ul-Haq. His most noted claim to fame is that he commanded the infamous Pakistani

3 With the exception of 'M', the participants included in this chapter explicitly declined to assign pseudonyms to themselves for use in the writing of this dissertation.

4 Access to individuals who have been involved in Track II diplomacy initiatives proved to be a bigger hurdle for me in India than in Pakistan. Having lived in Pakistan, I knew the environment and had enough contacts to be able to find my way around hurdles. In India, however, I did not know the terrain, so to speak, well enough.

5 By this I mean not only financial resources but also time. While snowballing worked particularly well as a field research technique, setting up interviews with public officials, intellectuals, and activists was a time-consuming process

6 Having developed additional research contacts while working on this project, I intend to conduct more interviews once I turn to revising this dissertation for publication later this year.

7 In the remainder of this chapter, I refer to Senator Mushahid Hussain Sayed as 'Senator Hussain' since that is the name and mode of address by which he is referred to more commonly in Pakistan. 229 intelligence agency, Inter-Services Intelligence or ISi, from March 1987-June 1989. Although not a long tenure, it was eventful in that it was during this time that Pakistan played a key role as a

US ally in Afghanistan in defeating the Soviet forces.

Lieutenant-General (Retd.) Gui has become a rather controversial figure in Pakistani politics following his retirement from the army in January 1992. He is currently based in Pakistan and plays an active role in the politics of the country as a retired general, public intellectual, and writer. Although he worked closely with the CIA and America while he commanded the ISi,

Lieutenant-General (Retd.) Gui became rather disillusioned with what he saw as the betrayal of

America and its foreign policy towards both Afghanistan and Pakistan after the Soviet withdrawal in 1989 (2005). Although supportive of the Kashmir insurgency, Lieutenant-General (Retd.) Gui has denounced the infiltration of Afghani or Pakistani mercenaries into India (2005). Lieutenant-

General (Retd.) Gui played a pivotal role in creating the lslami Jamhoori lttehad (IJI)- a coalition of political parties known for holding conservative religious beliefs - in 1989. He continues to remain a vocal and influential voice within the Pakistani politics.

'M' - who chose to remain pseudonymous, for professional reasons - has traveled with the Indian cricket team to Pakistan several times and it is in this capacity that he has been actively involved in Track II diplomacy efforts between Pakistan and India. I met Min the office of

Raj Singh Dungarpur when I went to interview the latter in Mumbai in February 2006. Raj Singh8 was born in Dungarpur, a city in the southern half of the Indian state of Rajasthan, in December

1935 and is the President of the Cricket Club of India in Mumbai. He has served on the Board of

Control for Cricket in India for the last two decades and is also a former president of the same organization. Prior to this, he played first class cricket in India for 16 years. He has been a selector for the national cricket team on four occasions. Singh has also accompanied the Indian team on foreign tours several times including series played with Pakistan. He served as manager of the Indian cricket team during the last series it played in Pakistan.

8 Although his formal name is 'Raj Singh Dungarpur', he is more popularly known as 'Raj Singh.' It is for this reason that I refer to him as both 'Dungarpur' and 'Singh' in this chapter. 230

That cricket has often been heralded as both the equivalent of the "battleground" and the "best bet for building friendship" in the India-Pakistan context renders the professional resumes of Dungarpur and M of particular relevance and interest for this dissertation project.

The final participant whose conversations have been examined in-depth in this chapter is Javed Akhtar. Akhtar was born in India - specifically in Gwalior, Madhya Pradesh - in January

1945. He grew up in Lucknow, Uttar Pradesh, and Aligarh - all well-known centers of Urdu in

India. Akhtar is a poet, lyricist, and scriptwriter of many successful Bollywood films. He has also penned the lyrics of the songs in Border and other movies on India-Pakistan relations. His works continue to reflect his political concerns. A staunch believer in secular ideologies and integration,

Akhtar launched MUSLIMS FOR SECULAR DEMOCRACY (MFSD) in 2003 which is an organization that works on several controversial issues pertinent to Muslims in India (Akhtar

2006). Akhtar is also a founding member of a group called "Muslim Intelligentsia" dedicated towards promoting anti-fundamentalism as well as education and women's rights among the

Muslim community (Akhtar 2006).

Without further ado, let me now turn to the conversations that this chapter is centered around.

The Im/Possibility Of Negotiations

The discussion in this section seeks to understand how the rhetoric of peace in the India-

Pakistan context is crafted out of various appeals to the two-nation theory commonplace.

Reading onwards you will likely notice an encore appearance of familiar thematic suspects namely religious nationalism, secular nationalism, and commonality.

One Step Forward, Another Step Back?: 'Commonality' & 'Peace'

The peace process itself is seen by and large on both sides of the India-Pakistan border as 'logical' or 'right' in the interest of peace and stability in the region. What is urged is a refocusing on 'commonality' that bound both present-day India and Pakistan for centuries prior to 231 the partition of 1947 in the form of similarities (e.g. language, looks, cuisine) and shared experiences (e.g. living in the same neighborhoods, celebrating each others' religious festivals together) presumed capable of overcoming divisiveness and fostering amicable relations.

Commenting on the peace process, Dungarpur's views on it are shaped by the notion of teleological progress whereby hatreds of the past two decades have given way to the love witnessed in 2006:

Earlier it was contentious. When bowlers like Sarfaraz Nawaz [a very famous Pakistani cricketer] would say "sar phor de" (blow his brains out). But there is nothing like that anymore. Now you see lmran Khan is as much admired here [in India] as he is over there [in Pakistan]. In fact, we all wanted to go to his hospital9 when we were in Pakistan.

And he [lmran Khan] took us [the entire Indian cricket team] around and showed us everything in detail. And I think he knew more about his hospital than he knew about his own bowling! And [Indian cricketer] then made a statement complimenting him and said that he would like to do something like lmran had done and make a hospital. Now this can only happen in a game like cricket. Because it was always supposed to be a noble game. (2006; bold emphasis added)

Despite the admiration expressed for a 'Pakistani' sportsman (lmran Khan), it is worth noting, that it is still the 'Pakistani other'_, in this example, Sarfaraz Nawaz - who is narrated as the source of violence here while the 'Indian self' is capable of being open-hearted and able to appreciate the deeds of the 'other' as is evident in the story Dungarpur shares about Tendulkar's reaction to the hospital built by lmran Khan. This kind of reaction is not unique to the Indian national imaginary.

On both sides of the border, there is a general tendency to glorify the self as 'righteous',

'justified' and 'rational' while the other is demonized as 'violent'. Such articulations tend to punctuate, even fracture, the goodwill that accompanies peace moves predicated on emphasizing shared histories, rituals, features, languages, clothes, etc. While Track II diplomacy overtures celebrate the coming together of two enemies, the fact that animosity has shaped the relationship between these two sides coexists with more amicable narratives, even if stealthily in a given space-time particularity.

Intrigued by the 'before' and 'after' account that Dungarpur had sketched out, I asked

9 Shaukat Khanum Memorial Hospital was built in Lahore, Pakistan for the treatment of cancer patients by lmran Khan in memory of his mother who died of cancer. 232 him to elaborate on what he thought had brought about this change that he had experienced in the tenor of relati.ons between the two rivals, specifically in the context of his experience in 1984 when the India-Pakistan test series had to be cancelled after the assassination of compared to his most recent visit to Pakistan with the Indian cricket team in 2006. To this he responded:

When we went to Lahore, all of us were looking for houses we grew up in and schools we went to or perhaps our fathers or grandfathers went to. Because they were from Lahore. And what a reception we got everywhere we went.

There is this connection now - because people are returning to their roots

I think the earnest desire in comparative terms - limited way of the governments and unlimited way of the people - has contributed to the thaw. (Dungarpur 2006; bold emphasis added)

Here an emphasis on 'commonality' by appeal to a shared, lived past emerges as the identifiable basis for 'peace' and 'friendship' or at least creating the kind of conditions in which warmth for the

'other' is possible.

In suggesting that this kind of commonality can only be nurtured by "people" and not

"governments", Dungarpur echoes a popularly held view in this region. One of the explanations heard frequently fn the public discourse prevailing in both countries as well as in scholarship on the India-Pakistan conflict is that it is power-hungry, selfish governments that continue to fan the flames of hatred whereas people have absolutely no desire to fight. What is intriguing, however, is how even individuals perform their collective identity in ways such that the 'other' is perceived as both 'friend' and 'foe'. For example, in the kind of context where an 'Indian' individual might go looking for his or her old home in Lahore, as Dungarpur details above, s/he is bound to have some sort of connection to the Pakistanis living in that home by virtue of having inhabited that same space at a different time. Contrast this against a scenario in which Indian and Pakistani diplomats sit down to hammer out a resolution to the disputed territory of Kashmir. Breakdowns occur and heated arguments ensue. Why? Primarily because that's primarily how that particular space has been made meaning-full. In the case of Kashmir, the positions taken on the disputed 233 territory have disregarded, dare I say logically so, the right of the 'other' on the same space. For both India and Pakistan, the claim of the 'other' on this territory is merely an exhibition of his/her unwillingness to acknowledge what is right. For India, Pakistan is consumed by religious fanaticism; for Pakistan, the occupation of Kashmir is further evidence of the aggression and bullying that is characteristic of a Hindu India that simply cannot demonstrate any regard for the rights of Muslims whether at home or across the border.

Commonality is not always articulated in ways that facilitate amicable relations. An example of how this works is evident in Lieutenant-General (Retd.) Gui's cynicism of the very possibility that there might be any 'commonality' between India and Pakistan that could then be used strategically to cultivate harmonious ties between the two nations.

For Lieutenant-General (Retd.) Gui, 'commonality' in the form of shared pasts is, if one is being charitable, outweighed or, more realistically, non-existent given the "fundamental differences" he finds between the polytheistic philosophy of Hinduism contrasted against the monotheistic faith of Muslims (2005). From this perspective, making amends with a "Hindu India"

- Hindustan as he referred to it fairly frequently throughout our conversation - is not impossible but, rather, to be more precise, "unimaginable" and "undesirable" as it goes against the very philosophy of what 'Pakistaniat' - or the spirit of Pakistani national identity - is (Gui 2005). If living with a Hindu India peacefully was possible then the need to establish Pakistan as an independent nation-state simply wouldn't have arisen insists Lieutenant-General (Retd.) Gui (2005). That

Pakistan has been established is a testimony to the fact that a "normal friendship" with India is out of the question (Gui 2005). Lieutenant-General (Retd.) Gui was quick to emphasize that he did not mean to suggest that a full-scale war with India is what Pakistan ought to be seeking or that it would or should happen but, rather, that the peace process itself was an anathema given that

Hindus and Muslims are unable to coexist given the unbridgeable gap in their respective worldviews and what he described as the "peculiar and imperial psyche of Hinduism" that

"discriminates amongst its own merely due to the accident of birth" (2005). 234

Although this denial of 'commonality' in terms of a shared past and shared tradition might seem harsh and close-minded, it is important to remember that drawing a straight line between identity narratives and outcomes such that, for instance, an emphasis on 'commonality' with the 'other' is presumed to be meaning-full as the precursor to peace and friendship is a rather myopic approach. If we pay attention to Lieutenant-General (Retd.) Gui's words above, the discourse of 'commonality' is meaning-less when confronted by the "fundamental differences" that divide a Hindu India from a Pakistan that was conceived as an Islamic state (2005). Here commonality isn't so much denied as rendered irrelevant. This illustrates that commonality isn't necessarily narrated in ways that permit being able to relate to the 'other' as 'friend'. Nor is it the only way to avoid going to war with the 'other'. To presume either connection is to obfuscate our abilities to account for the ways in which social and political orders cohere.

Thus, what is important to note in this juxtaposition of what might be appropriately classified as diametrically opposed views on the narrative of 'commonality' is that we need to understand the meaning-making practices in which 'self-other' relations are articulated; presuming that certain "things" contribute to conflict while others lead to peace and jumping to the conclusion that if we can just shift the focus on those "things" that produce the latter outcome is certainly na"lve. Put the same Indian and Pakistani individuals together who just finished bonding over having lived in the same house or city and watch what happens when you shift the conversation to violence in the Kashmiri region. There is a strong possibility that the discussion might become rather heated. This is not because of Kashmir as an issue in and of itself; if that were the case Indians and Pakistanis would never be able to engage in anything that remotely resembles Track II diplomacy initiatives or have a friendly interaction given that the Kashmir issue persists to date. It is dependent, instead, on how meaning is made at a given space-time particularity. Historically speaking, Kashmir has come to be tied in with certain kinds of claims of being 'Indian' or 'Pakistani' in which the 'other' is someone to be viewed with suspicion and, if the situation demands it, then someone against whom war has to be waged. This is something of 235 which we need to remain mindful in analyzing the India-Pakistan relationship to avoid both oversimplifying the matter and glorifying the power as it were of either of the narratives of self- other relations. Why?

If at a p,articular place and time, the 'self' finds reason to relate to the 'other' as 'friend' or 'neighbor' there's no telling what might happen next to spark something contentious. How is it that the 'self' happens to legitimate a different order of relationship with the other whereby 'a desire for peace' suddenly gives way to a 'national pride' that justifies something as grave as the nuclear annihilation of the now much 'loathed other'? In the case of India-Pakistan relations, it is the confrontation between appeals to religious nationalism and secular nationalism that first appeared in the context of the freedom struggle out of which India and Pakistan were borne as independent nations remains at the heart of the matter.

The remainder of this section examines and considers articulations in which appeals to secular and religious nationalism encounter each other as they stand head to head in the India-

Pakistan context complicating the prospects for peace and contributing to the ongoing contentiousness between the two arch enemies.

India as a "Bully" and "Aggressor" in the Pakistani national narrative

The consensus on the Pakistani side seems to be that both the conflict and the lack of success in what has been dubbed publicly on both sides of the border as a historic peace process lies in the "bullying" exhibited by the Indian 'other'. It is argued that the 'Indian other' is the one who has historically been incapable of showing anything but aggression and hostility towards Pakistan. Six decades ago it was this very attitude that prompted the movement for an independent state; today, it is the reason why the peace process lies, at best, in stagnation and, at worst, contains the ingredients that, in a particular set of circumstances, make for a very contentious relationship that always carries with it the threat of a large-scale· military confrontation. 236

The above sentiments came across loud and clear in my conversation with Senator

Hussain. Referencing a recent conversation he was involved in with a well-renowned Indian scholar/writer and journalist, the Senator explained:

So it's a problem with them. I was talking to Kuldip Nayar - he was visiting the other day and we got to talking about Kashmir. There were a whole bunch of other people sitting there. And I said Kashmir is not the real issue. The real issue is that you guys are too damn petty. You have to have a bigger heart. I told him this in very raw, peasantristic language you know. You talk of big vision but you don't have a big enough heart. You're too small-minded. You don't want to give on Jinnah House, on Baglihar, on the gas line. What are you going to give on then? What are we even talking about then? He [Nayar] agreed with me. (Sayed 2005; bold emphasis added)

Many scholars, as clarified in chapter 2 of this dissertation project, have argued that it is the inability to reach a resolution to the dispute over the territory of Jammu and Kashmir that is acceptable to both Pakistan and India that complicates the relationship shared by the two neighboring countries. The views shared by Senator Hussain here are also widely espoused in mainstream Pakistani discourse.

From this perspective, the territorial dispute over Kashmir is perceived as merely a symptom of the main problem which is that the Indian side refuses to budge on any issue, whether it's as small a matter as the ownership of Jinnah's residence in Mumbai or something as significant as the Baglihar Dam being built by India which Pakistan claims will cripple its water supply, and comes to the negotiating table rather unwillingly with its arms folded and minds closed. Looking out only for its own interests, India refuses to concede what Lieutenant-General

(Retd.) Gui describes is Pakistan's rightful claim to Kashmir or any other disputes between it and

India primarily because of the "aggressive" tendency of a "Hindu India" which remains determined to "cheat and cripple [an Islamic] Pakistan" because of its own religious biases (2005). Similarly, the failure of the peace process, Senator Hussain argued, can literally be chalked up to the jingoism and aggression characteristic of the Indian 'other':

See how does a bully behave? If you're caught by a mugger in some downtown street in Washington, the mugger will not mug you if he knows you're going to hit back. He knows he'll get hurt in the process. If he knows he can get away with it, he'll mug you. But if he knows that she might have a pistol and she might shoot also ... I might get hurt then he 237

won't do that. That's the basic logic. It's the same thing. Bully on the block [referring to India by pointing in the .direction in which India is located .geographically]

"It's not Kashmir. Even if Kashmir goes away the problem remains. That's what I say. I've said it openly. The mal issue is something else. It's them. It's in your mind. That's where the issue is. Religion, Kashmir etc - [it's all] bullshit. They are elements of the larger pr.obi em . .One .can't say that th.ese issues .aren't there. The pr.obi em is that .of .a heart - you need a big heart. (Sayed 2005; bold emphasis added)

In this vein, the Senator's words bear a strong resemblance to the discourse that emerged out of the two-nation theory whereby the hostility of the 'Hindu other' was what prompted the demand for an independent Muslim state. The Hindu other, given civilizational differences and his/her general hatred of the Muslims, would, as Jinnah and his peers argued, eat the Muslim alive in an independent India for they weren't the kind of people who had it in them to show any benevolence towards Muslims. It was for this reason that the All-India Muslim League and its supporters argued in British India of the 1940s that a separate homeland for the Muslims had become a critical necessity. It is the same reason that presents itself in the 2000s complicating the achievement of peace. In 1947, the Muslim who aligned with the All-India Muslim League might not have desired separation but saw it as linked to his/her survival and as the means to escape

Hindu domination. In the year 2005, India, in the Pakistani national imaginary, once again takes on the role of a "bully''. A "bully'' whose attitude once made separation inevitable and who now renders peace and friendship impossible.

Senator Hussain explained that the real cause of the conflict and the lack of progress in the peace process had to do with what the narrow-minded stance that is characteristic of India.

He explained further that the Indians have continued to make excuses ranging from the "military" that has been in power for most of Pakistan's history or the "mullahs" (religious clerics) who they claim incite the Pakistani public with anti-Indian sentiments fueled by religion but, truth be told, there was "no impediment" to peace or a "constituency to confrontation" from the Pakistani side

(2005). The real obstacle, Senator Hussain, maintained was ~n unwilling, unyielding India who continues to beat the drum of fundamentalism but is trapped within the narrow mindedness of a secular ideology that is anything but. 238

Drawing on cricket matches as an analogy to the politics of the India-Pakistan relationship. Senator Hussain described the "real problem" as follows:

We applaud when their cricketers come here and win in Karachi or Peshawar. But when we win in Calcutta what's the response? "Pakistan Murdabad[Death to Pakistan.)" You guys are so angry. What's the matter, yaar [buddy/dear friend]? We lost in our own country and we applauded you guys. That's the difference between the people of Pakistan and your people. That's the difference. I tell you that. Our people have a lot of life, a lot of soul, a lot of heart. Our people are damn good people - open-hearted, self­ starters, confident. (Sayed 2005; bold emphasis added)

While Senator Hussain begins with a claim about a sporting event, it is worth mentioning that this analogy is not without direct relevance to the politically charged ambience of these confrontations.

Cricket matches, as Indians and Pakistanis alike will agree, take on the all-important role of political battles and showdowns between 'self' and 'other'. In this context, an India-

Pakistan cricket match during the World Cup held every four years takes on the status of the ultimate battlefront. It is not only contentious politics that are waged on the cricket pitch. Series in which the Indian or Pakistani team visits the other country for a few weeks and play against each other in a combination consisting of one-day matches and test matches spanning 5 days have been increasingly used, especially post-2003, as part of Track II diplomacy efforts to increase interactions between Indians and Pakistanis with the intention that this is bound to result in a decrease in hostilities and remove obstacles in the way of peace and friendship. Given this, it is hardly a surprise that cricket is very much a part of the politics that is the India-Pakistan relationship. It is also important to bear this in mind to fully understand the implications of what

Senator Hussain suggests here. It isn't just that Pakistan exhibits a better sporting spirit and is a gracious loser or that India is a sore loser, according to him. Put into context, the cricket analogy is proof that India is unwilling to be magnanimous on the cricket pitch as well as at the negotiating table. That Pakistan is willing to applaud the Indians' victory despite losing face on their home ground implies that it comes to the table well-intentioned and unconsumed by a nationalistic pride that can't even celebrate with the 'other' because tied to that is the loss experienced by the 'self'. 239

Therefore, no matter what Pakistan doe$, India simply doesn't have the "heart" or "soul" or, for that matter, "goodness" to collaborate with Pakistan. Although he doesn't explicitly state that

Indians are the opposite of what Pakistanis are i.e. "open-hearted, self-starters, [and] confident", the implication certainly here is that the 'other' is plagued by its own insecurities and complexes.

Just like it's a sore loser in a sporting event, India is similarly a grudging interlocutor when it comes to its relations with Pakistan. In his assessment of the failure of the Agra Talks between Musharraf and Vajpayee had everything to do with the poor sporting spirit of the Indians:

I was talking to this very well-known Indian journalist and she was complaining about Agra that this happened and that happened. I also responded and said your president did this and that. The real problem is not the press conference. The real problem was that he [as in President Pervez Musharraf] did so well. He was so articulate and all your journalists were eating out of the palm of his hand. If he had performed badly, spoken like Vajpayee perhaps, the conversation would have been all about how he was inarticulate. And then they would have said bravo, bravo! He was so damn good that what they thought was "these haraamzaade Pakistanis! What the bloody hell? Humare ghar aate hain aur humain hee joote maarte hain" [These bloody bastard Pakistanis. What the bloody hell? They come to our home and show us up.] That was the real issue. They couldn't digest that. That we came to their home and won the game also. And this journalist agreed that my analysis was right. She was an Indian journalist and she admitted that. This is July 2001. (Sayed 2005; bold emphasis added)

Not only does this set up a binary in which Pakistan is painted as "articulate" against an

"inarticulate Indian other" but it also reaffirms the notion that Pakistan is the better, more honorable player. It "applauds" when India wins given that it is "open-hearted" whereas India not only calls for the "death of Pakistan" when it loses on its own home ground but is unfair and unjust to the point that it can't admit when Pakistan has a point that resonates witb "India" perhaps because it is too "petty" to do so.

As mentioned above, Lieutenant-General (Retd.) Gui too painted India as an

"aggressor" in his explication of the eyo-nation theory as pivotal to understanding the India-

Pakistan relationship. Although he did not advocate war with India, he also didn't envision peace between the two neighboring countries as something desirable given the unbridgeable chasm that separates their very being. 240

Lieutenant-General (Retd.) Gui reasoned that the divide between a "Hindu India" and

"Muslim Pakistan" was a combination of "ideological, social, and economic" factors with "historical dimensions" (2005).

Referencing Quaid-e-Azam's speeches, he went on to elaborate that Pakistan, at least as a concept, emerged when the very first Muslim set foot on Indian soil (Gui 2005). This is a commonly held view in Pakistan following the policy of lslamization practiced during the Zia years. It was around this time, i.e. the early 1980s, that history textbooks were rewritten such that the entrance of Islam in the subcontinent in 712 AD was said to mark the birth of Pakistan as compared to previous versions whereby the country's existence was said to have existed as an ideology for a couple of centuries prior to the freedom movement that birthed it officially on March

23, 1940 (Aziz 1993; Hoodbhoy & Nayyar 1985). Thus, from Sir Syed's vision of the two-nation theory in its earliest iteration where co-existence was imagined alongside an emphasis on the differences between the two communities what has emerged in Pakistan, in the wake of Zia's lslamization policies, is that the was redefined and rewritten so as to obliterate

10 the "lndo-lslamic" label and instill in its place an ancient "Islamic" heritage . It can also be argued that this move has allowed Pakistan to mount its own claim to a glorious past once India declared its ownership of the subcontinent's shared past and civilizational history as its own domain thereby effectively excluding Pakistan's access to narratives of ancestral belonging around which a sense of 'national self' often coheres. The linking of Pakistan's birth to the arrival of the first

Muslim in the subcontinent is also a metaphor that has found resonance in certain contexts across the border. In Its newspaper titled Panchjanya the ASS issued the following statement drawing on religious appeals, specifically the anti-Muslim and anti-Pakistan sentiments espoused by Hindutva, during the Kargil War of 1999 as a call to action directed at then Prime Minister Atal

10 Similarly, textbooks in India have also come to increasingly demonize the Pakistani other using religious metaphors associated with the days of yore, so to speak. For an in-depth description of distortions in history textbooks, please refer to: Bunsha 2006; Hoodbhoy & Nayyar 1985; Jalal 1995; Kumar 2005; Rahman 1998; and, Udayakumar (2005 and 2001 ). The implication in deploying this claim is that the longer something - e.g. a civilization - has been around the more justified and authentic it is. 241

Behari Vajpayee: "Pakistan will not listen just like that. We have a centuries-old debt to settle with this mindset. It is the same demon that has been throwing a challenge at Durga since the time of

Mohammad Bin Qasim. Arise Atal Behari! (cited in Swami 1999, 100).

The above notion of an 'ancient feud' is one that was deployed by the All-India Muslim

League and its adherents to legitimate the demand for a separate state for the Muslims. Given that "we [referring to Muslims] are culturally different, our heroes are different", Lieutenant-

General (Retd.) Gui also argued that it was an awareness of this fact that ultimately led to the

"creation of Pakistan" and now, it is but "natural" that the feud and animosity persists (2005).

I asked him to elaborate on the reasons that led him to believe this conflict was inevitable and natural. Lieutenant-General (Retd.) Gui explained that it was during the freedom movement that:

it was determined that Muslims cannot live peacefully with and get fairplay and justice from dominant Hindu communities wherever they were because fundamentally all religions - divine religions that is to say. And there are three religions of the book which are alive. Their basic doctrine of life is love for other human beings. Although they may not be practicing it. Many of us don't practice that. But that is what it is. But Hinduism is different. It is based on hatred for the other human beings- because of their place of birth, because of the accident of birth. That's why they hate others. That's why it's based on class composition. This is the only creed which is different from other religions. That is why we can go along and live with Christianity, live with Judaism. There's no problem because there are commonalities.

One is that they're monotheist. We are also monotheist. As far as Hinduism goes, I'm told there are monotheistic sects among the Hindus. But mainly they are not monotheist. 11 They are what we describe as mushrikeens • We, like the other monotheistic religions, believe in one Divine Being which is The Creator. They may also vicariously believe in the same but it's not the same. And that is an anathema to Islam and, in fact, to other religions as well. So I think there are some fundamental differences between the two creeds. (2005; bold emphasis added)

What is noteworthy here is that the theme of "fundamental differences" and "hatred" on the part of the 'Hindu other' that emerged during the freedom movement persists even today in narrations of the 'Indian other' in the national imaginary of Pakistan. In both instances, peaceful coexistence poses a challenge. Prior to 1947, civilizational differences between Hindus and Muslims

11 The word 'mushrikeen' comes from 'shirk'. Both are used in the Quran. Shirk refers to the act of worshipping something or someone other than Allah. Mushrikeen is the word used to refer to individuals who commit shirk. 242 combined with considerable fear of "domination" by a Hindu majority that already held the Muslim minority in contempt gave the idea of 'Pakistan' as a separate Muslim homeland resonance. In the present day, the same arguments seem intimately connected to the kind of relationship that can be imagined with India. Lieutenant-General (Retd.) Gui's words here echo the basic sentiment of Pakistani national discourse - it is the hatred that a 'Hindu India' feels towards a

'Muslim Pakistan' that exacerbates tensions and renders peace an impossibility. Lieutenant­

General (Retd.) Gui pointed to the Dalits in India who are forbidden from entering temples even though they are part of the 'Hindu/Indian self' as further evidence that aMuslim and Pakistani, whose beliefs and ways of life are so diametrically opposed to those of the Hindu is bound to be regarded as enemy number one primarily because of the "class system" and "discrimination" that is rampant in Hindu ideology not to mention the "arrogance" and "aggression" that is characteristically "Indian" (2005).

This theme - i.e. the perpetuation of hatred by India - continues to be prevalent in

Pakistan i.e. it is 'India' that is unfair, a bully, an aggressor and the one whose 'hatred' necessitates a defensive response to protect Pakistan's integrity. It justifies thinking of the 'other' as enemy not only in self-defense but as a practical necessity if the territorial and national integrity of Pakistan is to be preserved. Given that India stands in opposition to everything

Pakistani and that leaders like Nehru have issued statements proclaiming that Pakistan was a temporary aberration that would eventually have to return to the Indian fold only feeds this line of thinking whereby an "Islamic/Muslim Pakistan" has to continue to defend itself from an

"aggressive Hindu India".

More than wreaking of a desire for conflict, as his words might be narrowly interpreted here, what Lieutenant-General (Retd.) Gui underlined as we wrapped up our conversation was this: that the basic principle of the "two-nation theory" whereby the India-Pakistan relationship, given their disparate ideological commitments complicated further by "India's arrogance", contributes to a hostile relationship that is inevitable and everlasting (2005). This, however, he 243 argued, was not the basis for another military confrontation as has been the case in the past; nonetheless, he did not envision a successful peace process either (Gui 2005). The headway that seemed to have been made by the Musharraf regime with respect to the India-Pakistan relationship, he argued, was an outcome of ignorance of the basic principles of 'Pakistaniat' and a surrender to the 'Indian' outlook on life (Gui 2005). What is the need of the hour within Pakistan, emphasized Lieutenant-General (Retd.) Gui, is a "soft revolution"; not of the moderate kind that he claimed then-President Musharraf has been touting to the Western world nor of the extremist kind to which religious parties who merely misuse religion as a means to consolidate political power hold true but one that realized the full potential of Pakistan's founding ideology of a "truly

Islamic state" that had taken "its rightful place among the nations of the world" with the purpose of

"serving humanity" (2005).

Lieutenant-General (Retd.) Gui elaborated that the purpose of establishing Pakistan was not merely to set up a Muslim homeland but, rattier, a truly Islamic state modeled along the lines of Madinah in Saudi Arabia during the time of Prophet Mohammad and the Rashidun12 that would be governed by the laws of the Quran and Sunnah and be home to people of all faiths:

[t]he real mission [of the freedom movement in British India] was that we were told to go and in a sense show the world what an Islamic state would look like. Like a lab experiment perhaps. It isn't necessary that all Muslims would benefit in that all Indian Muslims would have come to live here. No - it was about romance, it was about love. It was about wanting a flower to be planted and then bloom. It was supposed to be an example for the world (2005)

12 Rashidun is the term used to refer to the first four Caliphs - known as Khalifa in Arabic - who were also the Companions of Prophet Mohammad. In Islamic history and jurisprudence, a Caliph is the head of state known as Amir-ul-Momineen (Commander of the Believers). Medina was the first capital of the established by the Prophet Mohammad. Subsequent caliphs are recognized as successors to Prophet Mohammad's political authority. According to Sunni tradition, a caliph is elected by Muslims or their representatives. For Shia's the caliph, known as Imam, ought to belong - in the sense of being able to claim lineage - to the family of the Prophet Mohammad known as Ah/-e-Bayt. It must be noted here that in Sunni Islam, the household of the Prophet Mohammad is said to include all his wives, his daughter Hazrat Fatima, his three grandchildren, as well as his cousin and son-in-law Hazrat Ali. Some sects add Prophet Mohammad's blood relatives to this list. According to Shia Islam, people of the Ahl-e­ Bayt include his daughter Hazrat Fatima, her husband Hazrat Ali, Imam Hasan, Imam Hussain and subsequent Imams who were descendants of Hazrat Fatima and revered as divinely chosen leaders of the Muslim Ummah. 244

It is important to note here that Lieutenant-General (Retd.) Gui's use of the word

'Islamic' stands as a stark contrast to the Indian charge against Pakistan of 'fanaticism' and the

'illegitimacy' of religious bases of national identity. As became apparent in my conversation with

Lt-General Gui, the claim 'Islamic' is deployed in this context to legitimate a certain kind of political order, rather, a specific kind of state-hood and national identity that is governed by the principles of the Quran (word of God) and Sunnah (practices of Prophet Mohammad). This political order, from the perspective of Lieutenant-General (Retd.) Gui, stands in stark contrast to the "secular democracy'' of the West that has been aped by India and that denies the very spirit of egalitarianism:

What is an Islamic state? It is a democracy! It has been stated very clearly, in no uncertain terms, in the Objectives Resolution also, that verily Allah is the Sovereign of all the World and this country is a trust on behalf of Allah given to us. And herein laws of Allah will be practiced through the people of Pakistan! Not through a dictator. Not through a military ruler. Not through a commander-in-chief. Not through a king. But through the people of Pakistan. It is a democracy, therefore, so you can actually say it is a democracy.

Pakistan was established to implement the divine rules of Allah so that Pakistan can attain its full place in the community of nations and serve humanity. That is where we have gone wrong. President Musharraf talks about secularism. Before him, the maulvis (Muslim clerics) have misused religion and interpreted it in very narrow ways.

Let me tell you the difference between a secular, Western-inspired democracy and Islamic democracy.

Fundamentally, in an Islamic democracy ... [t]he function of a sovereign is to legislate. People of a country legislate through its representatives. But, in an Islamic democracy the legislative function in the sense of foundational legislation is absent because it has already been enacted. If you refer to the Hujjat-ul-Wida13 of the Prophet Mohammad we are told that our deen - not mazhab just in terms of religious rituals - has been perfected. This is "The Chosen" by Allah. This is the socio-economic system we have to follow. That means Finality - of Propehethood and the Islam. Legislation is being enacted by the sovereign .. And who is sovereign? Allah is Sovereign. And where is His legislation? It is in The Book [the Quran]. If you practice what is inThe Book then there is no problem. Is there anything wrong or faulty with The Book? Or was there anything faulty with the model of the state of Madinah? No. People like Gibbons and Toynbee and other historians have all written that that was the best period. Even though it was short but ... that period of 35 years of the Caliphate etc is ours - that is the romance we have as Muslims with respect to statehood and democracy.

13 Referring to the last sermon delivered by Prophet Mohammad during the first last he performed in his lifetime which is also referred to as "The Farewell Hajj." 245

What are the other elements of an Islamic democracy? How does it differ? How does society differ? How does economy differ?

Number one - economic taxation and accumulation. Islam forbids hoarding. That means a very healthy economy because money and wealth remain circulating. The Quran tells us very explicitly that what we have been given we must redistribute. This is called justice. Redistribution of what is in excess of your needs. Don't worry. The state will look after you. Don't worry- the state will take care of you. How will it do that if there is to be no taxation in an Islamic state? This is very important. If there is no taxation then where does state get the funds to perform its functions? It's a mind-boggling idea .... We have what we call and ushr. Now we have to look at it. Can zakat and ushr meet the requirements of the society? ... First there is what we call a tax on accumulation - that's 14 zakat. Zakat is Allah's share from what we accumulate as wealth • You can't call it tax - 1 1 it's defined in the Quran. Then there is ushr which is a share of 1/10 h - 1/5 h on production. That means the state is bound to, if it wants more revenue, it must encourage policies that will promote greater production. See first it takes from the market economy in the form of ushr which is essentially based on a calculation of what needs to be redistributed from profits of productivity. The other thing is that in an Islamic democracy a state has no expenses. You don't need to maintain a military. You issue a call for jihad and people will volunteer. You don't need more than a small-standing army. The whole nation is there - it is all soldiers in arm. So this is your economic system in which there is no taxation. A healthy economy is one in which you have greater production and less accumulation - less of a trend towards accumulation but more circulation and more production. This is a healthy economy where there is no taxation.

Number two - there is to be no charge on education. There is to be equal opportunity for all where education is concerned. If you look at Western democracy - which is also a secular democracy that is supposed to be egalitarian - education is class-based in those systems. There are classifications. We have them too unfortunately - that's unjust. You cannot provide equal opportunity for all if you don't have equal opportunity for education.

Next - number three - is that there is to be no charge on health. No hakeem15 (the Urdu and Islamic concept of a doctor) will take fees from you. There will be a charge for medicines but not for the service itself.

So you see that Pakistan, as an Islamic democracy, is meant to be anti­ Imperialistic and anti-Capitalist which is the antithesis of India's secular democracy.

14 It is important to note here that adding to one's wealth is not discouraged in the same way that a socialist system would conceptualize it. Instead, predetermined percentages on certain kinds of wealth e.g. gold and silver constitute the payment of zakat.

15 Hakeem refers to a medical doctor whose practice is set up along the Islamic principles summarized in the excerpt above. The word itself has been derived from Arabic and literally means "wise" and "intelligent". It is also one of the ninety-nine names used to refer to Allah. A hakeem is essentially a doctor with the primary difference being thats/he works within an Islamic health care system. Here the provision of health care is motivated not by economic concerns but, rather, serving humanity. The state is obliged to provide the best health care to all of its citizens as part of its duty towards Allah. The funding for this system, as in the case of the educational system, is to be procured from the Bait-u/-Maal, i.e. Central Treasury, which is comprised of the money collected from the payment of zakat and ushr by all citizens of the state. 246

The very principles on which Pakistan was made go against the grains of India's political set-up as a secular democracy.

So, for there to be peace, we would have to bury the dream of Pakistan to co-exist with them [i.e. India]. (2005; bold emphasis added)

The sole purpose of sharing the above section of the discussion in its entirety is that it is a crystal clear example of the way in which us/them logic works to establish the moral, and therefore unquestionable, superiority of 'self' as opposed to a degenerate, unjust 'other' in the

Pakistani context.

In the discussion above, there is a nobility granted to Pakistan's identity as 'Islamic' in its "anti-Imperialist'' and "anti-Capitalist" stances on politics, economics, socio-cultural equality and statehood. Here all citizens, irrespective of the faith to which they subscribe, are granted equal opportunities to live their lives well. It is allegiance to Islamic principles that is critical to defining Pakistani identity and not simply the badge of being a 'Muslim'. The distinction between the two, as Lieutenant-General (Retd.) Gui also pointed out, is that between ''faith" and "deerl'.

While both words refer to religion, a person of faith is one who practices what his/her religion require while a person committed to "deerl' is someone accepts his/her religion as an entire way of life. In this sense, Pakistan, Lieutenant-General (Retd.) Gui argues, was made in the name of

"deen"rather than "faith".

If Pakistani identity is predicated upon "anti-Imperialist" and "anti-Capitalist" values, then the mere fact that a Hindu India subscribes to both in its adoption of a "secular democracy" translates into an absence of peace (Gui 2005). Why is that? After all, if territorial independence has been achieved thereby guaranteeing political independence then what is there to fight about?

Why should peace be a challenge? As Lieutenant-General (Retd.) Gui asserts in the last couple of paragraphs above, given the incommensurability of values and commitments, the very notion of peace between India and Pakistan would require that the latter relinquish its "dream" and lose its own "self' (2005). In that vein, Lieutenant-General (Retd.) Gui asks poignantly and rhetorically

"why make Pakistan" if the end result was wanting to "make amends with India" (2005)? 247

If in Lieutenant-General (Retd.) Gui's narrative we see the notion of "Islamic" being equated with 'egalitarianism' and 'humanity' and a celebration of 'religious nationalism', then the next section on the 'Pakistani other' in-the Indian national imaginary reminds us of its polar opposite. Specifically, a discursive universe in which religiosity as a basis for articulating the national self is seen as synonymous with 'falsity', 'fanaticism', and 'deviance' on the grounds of

'secular nationalism'.

Pakistan as "Religious Fanatic" in the Indian national narrative

In the ethical imaginary of lndian-ness, we find two dominant narratives of nationhood that are relevant to understanding how the 'Pakistani other' is characterized and the legitimacy of the 'Indian self' is preserved through links to an ancient past.

First, we have the version in which "communalism" is perceived as a "falsehood" propagated by the British that eventually led to the "blunder" that is Pakistan. Emphasizing nationalism and statehood as "secular" projects embracing the heterogeneity that is an India occupied by plural faiths and ethnicities, Church and state are deemed different realms and never the twain shall meet. This thinking translates into the common perception of Pakistan as "swept away by fanaticism" and as a nation whose statehood is often viewed as "illegitimate". Why is that the case? It is because, from within this imagination of the !ndian nation, the very notion of

Pakistan as an independent homeland for the Muslims denies the "bond of brotherhood between

Hindus and Musalmans living in India" which, despite its Hindu ori~ins, always reached out to the

Muslims as its "adopted children" (Chatterjee 1993, 222). Here, the 'Pakistani other' is the

'wayward brother' who was deceived by the British so as to deny the organic connections to the

Indian land that would have prevented the division of the subcontinent.

Existing alongside this secular vision of India as espoused in Nehruvian ideology is a second narrative that looks towards religious or spiritual ideologies as legitimately a part of the 248 national experience in postcolonial contexts (Chatterjee 1993; Goswami 2004; Pandey 2006;

Prakash 1999).

Tracing the development of nationalism in colonial India, Chatterjee explains that, in this context, whereby anti-colonial sentiments birthed a nationalism that, unlike its European counterpart, came to understand the national collective as a combination of both the material and the spiritual {1993, 6). Here the nation has an 'inside' and an 'outside' whereby:

(t]he material is the domain of the "outside," of the economy and of statecraft, of science and technology, a domain where the West had proclaimed its superiority and the East had succumbed. In this domain, then, Western superiority had to be acknowledged and its accomplishments carefully studied and replicated. The spiritual, on the other hand, is an "inner" domain bearing the "essential" marks of cultural identity. The greater one's success in imitating Western skills in the material domain, therefore, the greater the need to preserve the distinctness of one's spiritual culture'. (Chatterjee 1993, 6)

In this vision then what is legitimated is also a notion, if you will, of India as Hindustan which, if translated literally, means "Land of the Hindus" or "Land of Hinduism". In this narration, the two- nation theory put forward by the All-India Muslim League as its political mandate stands validat~d.

Islam, because it came in from the outside, is not seen as organically Indian. That Muslims in

India were either invaders or converts lends further credence to drawing a line between a 'Hindu self' and a 'Muslim other' for staunch believers of this script; the invaders were never "of the land" as it were and the "converts" become "traitors". While this vision of Hindustan stands in opposition to the secular vision that makes room for plural faiths and insists upon the superiority of Hindu ideology, where the two overlap are those moments in which a Muslim Pakistan is seen

16 as the "enemy'' whose "fundamentalism" continues to pose problems . If it was "religious

16 It bears mentioning here that this second narrative has not technically been explored in this chapter. Logically speaking, those on this spectrum of the Indian national imaginary are not likely to be involved in the Track II diplomacy process. The same applies to the equivalent of this narrat_ive in the Pakistani national imaginary whereby negotiating with a Hindu India is envisioned as sacrilegious. While interesting to note that these alternative national imaginaries exist whereby the 'other' is seen overwhelmingly as 'enemy', I do not believe their absence in this chapter takes away from the argument contained herein. Technically speaking, this chapter explores the evolution of the peace process by focusing on individuals who have been part of Track II initiatives. The population that doesn't believe in having a peace process in the first place is not essentially relevant in the case, rather site, at hand. However, their exclusion as a population does not mean that the rhetorical resources they draw on to legitimate their positions are absent 249 fanaticism" that created Pakistan and broke up India in 1947, it is the same that is blamed for the rocky relationship that India inevitably shares with Pakistan and which complicates the peace process.

The sentiments summarized above, as you will see in the remainder of this sub-section, are fundamental with respect to how the peace process is understood and evaluated in the Indian national imaginary. Let us now examine these in greater depth.

As mentioned earlier, of primary import is the role of 'communalism' which, upon its gradual introduction by the British once they set up their Raj in India, served to divide what are seen as two communities that despite their distinctiveness had found a way to co-exist for centuries. The example oft-cited of this harmony is the rule of Mughal Emperor Jalal-ud-din Akbar who was the first Muslim ruler in the subcontinent to officially fuse Hindu and Muslim ideas and ways of life to unite his kingdom and consolidate his power under the umbrella of what is referred to as an Inda-Islamic civil,ization (Bose & Jalal 1998, 31-34 & 37-41). Maintaining that "[t]he conflict is older than the country" of Pakistan, Akhtar spoke on this subject in considerable depth arguing that there had been a conscious and systematic effort by the British, especially through the work of historians such as Mills, to rewrite the history of the Indian subcontinent as explicitly communal (2006). Speculating about the strangeness of the speed with which something that is

"bad" and "undesirable" often "becomes self-generating," Akhtar focused on the spread of communalism in British India which he claims as fundamental to the India-Pakistan conflict and as shaped initially and in large part through language differentiation whereby Hindi and Urdu came to be seen as one of the definitive markers that separated Hindus from Muslims:

You can see that there is a definite effort [by the Britishers] to create a kind of a schism in the communities.

Now Urdu - what is Urdu? Urdu is a language that is based on a dialect called from the analysis presented here. In the moments in which the 'other' is identified as 'enemy' or the reason why the peace process is stalled, what emerges is a deployment of similar narratives of 'self-other' difference that these groups often employ. Therefore, we do get an insight into these articulations of the national imaginary and the ways in which they serve as an obstacle complicating the achievement of peace in the India-Pakistan context. 250

17 Khariboli . Khariboli was a dialect spoken widely in Delhi, Haryana, Western UP [Uttar Pradesh] and so on. And like any dialect it didn't have a script. Some 800 years back in Amir Khusro's 18 time people ... started writing this Khariboli dialect in Persian script. The original name of this language was Hind-ni-Zaban-e-Urdu-e-Moalla. Urdu means 'cantonment' in Turkish. It's a Turkish word. Now over 500-600 years this language developed its own identity, its own ethos, its own culture.

The Hindi that is our [India's] national language today was non-existent. There was no Hindi based on Khariboli.

Now this language was intentionally developed by the British and nurtured in Fort William College. So not only did they communalize history but they also developed two parallel and conflicting cultures also. And in that culture language also became a part.

Now all over the world languages belong to regions. For the first time, it happened in North India that language started belonging to religion. This had never happened before. It's absurd.

In 1798, for the first time the Quran was translated in Urdu by a gentleman Shah Abdul Qadir in Delhi. And every aalim of their time gave a fatwa against this man that how dare he translate our holy book into this heathen language.

We see that within a 100 years that it was decided that this was the language of Muslims. The same very language! (2006; bold emphasis added)

Thus, in this articulation, what is understood, and rather nobly, as 'religious nationalism' in the

Pakistani context is construed in the Indian national imaginary as a "false construcf' - what

Akhtar referred to as a "con job" and a "blunder" several times during the course of our conversation (2006). One that eventually destroyed the unity that was the hallmark of India, and with it, defiled its territorial integrity. References to such defilement remain pervasive both in

17 Khariboli is a dialect that forms the standard register of both Hindi (spoken in India) and Urdu (the national language of Pakistan). It is native to Delhi and the Uttar Pradesh region of Western India. The Khariboli dialect is regarded as an indicator of refined language in both Urdu and Hindi. Following independence, the Khariboli dialect has been Sanskritized in India. Similarly, although Urdu has been nurtured under a variety of linguistic influences (including Arabic, Persian, Turkish, and several Indian languages), particularly under the Mughal Empire whose multicultural roots gave the language an equally multicultural heritage, recent years have seen a conscious effort to lean towards a more Persian and Arabic vocabulary. For example, the Urdu words for 'tree' include both 'jhaar' and 'darakht'. The former term traces its roots to more Hindi influences. When I was in junior high school, I remember that certain words suddenly began to be openly preferred both in school as well as on TV while others were looked down upon as too "Indian" or "Hindi" rather than "Urdu". Suddenly, the more Hindi 'jhaar' became persona non grata and was replaced by 'darakht' as the more appropriate and refined term to use to refer to a 'tree'

18 Amir Khusro is widely regarded as one of the classic Urdu poets. 251

Bollywood films of the era as well as in partition literature written around 1947.

Where unity once existed, faith serves to fracture - that is the organizing logic in which the 'Pakistani other' comes to be seen as 'foe' as well as blamed for lack of success of the peace process.

Although the British are credited with sowing the seeds of separatism, Akhtar argues that it eventually became "self-generating" as a result of the activities not only of the All-India

Muslim League but also extremist Hindu parties (2006). This divisiveness, he argues, was and continues to be exacerbated as Muslims come to identify, erroneously, with the "ummah" that

Islam binds them to thus denouncing any affiliations they might have to the "land" in which they were born through a vilification of the Hindu caste system:

See obviously most of the Muslims are converts in this subcontinent. But you ask an average Muslim in the subcontinent - in North India particularly because perhaps in Tamil Nadu and Kerala it might be different because nobody [i.e. foreign invaders] has gone there for a very long time - if you ask them what is your lineage then perhaps one man would tell you that his forefather has come from Arab or from or from Syria or from Central Asia or from Afghanistan. But he will not bring his elders or his forefathers from any place that is nearer than Afghanistan.

Now why this cutaway line?

Why is it that our forefathers can only come from Afghanistan and no nearer? Why? Because after this the caste system starts. They don't want to acknowledge that. So the moment they say you have Rajputs and Patels in Muslims you have those Muslims who were Brahmins admitting they were from here - from prestigious classes only! Rest of them come from Saudia Arabia or from Iran! And this was also a reason that they instead of claiming the land they claimed the ummah to hide their origins. So it is a very strange situation that here is an extremist Hindu fundamentalist saying that they are the invaders and that they have come from outside. And this person, instead of defending himself, is finding glory in this accusation. So obviously gradually, with time, with propaganda, with religious fervor, these feelings became stronger and stronger. (Akhtar 2006; bold emphasis added)

To contextualize what Akhtar refers to above, it is important to understand that most Muslims will try to draw some sort of direct line to the family, even if extended, of the Prophet Mohammad.

This because of a belief that the closer one is in terms of blood ties to the Prophet the purer the virtue and/or the greater the likelihood of obtaining the favor of Allah both in this world and the hereafter. To be able to claim some kind of family link to Prophet Mohammad or even, for that 252 matter, the Caliphs who came after him becomes a matter of prestige and virtue. In a land, where most of the Muslims were converts with the exception of those who were direct descendants of the Mughals, to find someone with this kind of family link earned him much respect as a "Sayyid".

Presuming that a majority of the initial converts to Islam were drawn its egalitarianism and saw it as a way to escape the hardship they had to endure as members of the lower rungs of the Hindu caste system, it makes sense then that they might want to disown any ties to the latter in the interest of social and cultural mobility. On the other hand, the group known as "Khoja" (meaning

'khwaja'or, in English, 'noble') found in both India and Pakistan, continues to emphasize their history of conversion with pride. Islam didn't offer them social mobility but it conferred on them a sense of pride and accomplishment since this was the community that became politically active both in the freedom struggle as well as in social transformation within, particularly in the context of religious reformation Within their communities to ensure that the egalitarianism promised by

Islam would become a reality. It is important to note here that Quaid-e-Azam also hailed from a

Khoja family. To return though to what Akhtar suggests above, what is interesting is the emphasis on "land". In South Asia, land is much romanticized as the ultimate connection one could have with their identity. It is for this reason that Muhajirs in Pakistan come to be seen as

'others within' for they had no ties of birth to the land they now inhabit and claim as their home.

Similarly, Indian Muslims, by virtue of their ties with the "ummah" lose some of their connection to the "Indian self". It is also, as Akhtar points out, a reminder of the fanaticism of the 'Pakistani other' - emphasizing one's religious identity leads one to denounce more legitimate ties of birth.

Who in one's right mind would overlook the identity that birth gave them? The religious zealot that is the 'Pakistani other' of course. That s/he didn't care for the land made it easier for them to defile the territorial integrity of India in 1947; support of Kashmiri freedom for the 'Muslim brothers and sisters' is further proof that the religious zeal of the 'Pakistani other' continues unabated and might still be targeting BharatMata (Mother India).

Thus, in this script, 'faith' as a basis of organizing collective political identity is 253 disregarded. The logic of this is as follows: if the "original India" was able to coexist for centuries, then, in this narrative, a demand for separation where there was previously none comes to be seen as utterly "absurd" and as against an ethos of all that is legitimately "Indian". That Pakistan,

I in its very being, is a product of this logic where religion divides two previously united communities renders it just as "absurd". If India, despite its communal heterogeneity, was able to forge a unified front for millennia despite an onslaught of invasions by several other ethnicities and faiths can only mean one thing here - the fault is Pakistan's for insisting upon a communal divide that has only led to hatred, territorial division, and bloodshed ever since the idea was voiced. Here Pakistan becomes the 'wayward' and 'deviant' sibling who disrupted the unity of the family that was a united India. India is constructed as a "land of multiple faiths" where religions can live in harmony unlike "Pakistan" whose religiosity breeds nothing but discord and violence in addition to separatism. After all, ''the ummah" takes the Pakistani away from "the land" and replaces the identification and belongingness granted by birth with that of "Muslim invaders like

Ghazali, Ghauri,. Abdali all of whom mauled, raped, and looted that area" (Akhtar 2006). That renders it appropriately "fundamentalist" for it is only "religious fanatics" motivated by hatred and divisiveness whose actions lead to such chaos and instability (Akhtar 2006).

How does Pakistan's waywardness and stubborn insistence upon drawing on religiosity as the basis for nationhood, rather than, for example land and birth as Akhtar outlines above, continue to affect India-Pakistan relations? Why didn't that story end ~ith the birth of the Pakistani nation? How and why do the actions of Pakistan contribute to ongoing contentions as India argues? For Akhtar, the basic problem lies in the very fact of partition in the name of faith for that has snowballed into ongoing hostilities primarily because Pakistan needs to sustain its animosity with India to justify its own existence (2006). This point is elaborated below:

So, as a matter of fact, Pakistan has to be fundamentalist for two reasons.

This economic system - this economically exploitative system - cannot uphold democracy. If you want to deny human rights and democracy then how do you deprive people of asking questions? You have to use religion. Aurangzeb or Zia-ul-Haq had to be religious. They had no choice. If you are using unfair means, then you have to say that I 254

am using these unfair means for this great cause. So the cause is so big that you have to allow me to do this.

Point two - Pakistan has a spoiled army. They have tasted blood. So it is very difficult for them to remain in the barracks.

In this process, between the exploitative feudal system and the army, they have destroyed every institution. So it is very difficult for them to develop a secular democratic state.

Now if the army is playing such an important role - army has to have hostile relations with India. If you'll have good relations with India and everything is hunky-dory then what's the problem? Besides that, two-nation theory starts looking stupid. If everything is right between us - we are so similar that it is frightening. (Akhtar 2006; bold emphasis added).

Here, we see similar themes emerging as did at the time of partition in which the irrationality of religion as a basis for collective identity is disregarded. If a political elite manipulated the Indian

Muslim into fighting for the Pakistani cause, it is the same elite that keeps the flame of hatred with a Hindu India alive for its own political gain. Accordingly, the Hindu-Muslim problem of British

India simply could not have ended with partition because of a Muslim Pakistan, specifically the · state and military, that continues to turn to religion to justify its failure as a viable secular

19 democracy . Thus, Pakistan continues to wage a war with India and maintain a hostile stance; here religion serves as an easy mechanism to continue duping the masses and continuing the vicious cycle of violence.

Thus, in the Indian national discourse, the two-nation theory is perceived as having been kept alive by a "misled Pakistan" argues Akhtar using an everyday example:

See, if I meet a Japanese I'll say "okay this is how you make rice in your country- we too make rice exactly like this in UP." That Japanese will be ecstatic. "Really!" Go to Italy and look at their bread. It's exactly like the bread in Punjab. It's only when I say to a Pakistani "oh this is how you make bread, we make it completely diffen;mtly" and he'll be really happy. He's happy. If you tell him "you're very different from us". He'll be over the moon. The rest of the world finds joy in us telling them that we're similar. It is not proper -politically not right - to tell a Pakistani that we're alike. Indians make this mistake very often. They [Pakistanis] don't like that at all. They'll insist that we're very different, we talk differently.

19 While this seems at odds with the Pakistani claim of establishing an "Islamic democracy'' as General Gui maintained above, it is interesting to note that Akhtar holds the establishment of a "secular democracy'' as a benchmark. This only serves to highlight further the schism between Indian and Pakistani aspirations as nation-states. 255

I'm telling you we're all Indians. You can't become something else in 60 years - no matter what you do. (2006; bold emphasis added)

Here the Pakistani other is someone whose insistence on prioritizing the "ummah" over "land" and

"birth" continues to provide the grounds for increasing violence and divisiveness. The problem with this approach, for Akhtar, is its complete denial of "authentic" and "much more real" bonds that actually serve to unite people like culture in ways that promote hatred:

See I'm from Uttar Pradesh - UP. I have a certain loyalty with UP that I can't have with Kerala. I'm an Urdu-speaking person. I might say to others that all languages are beautiful but the love I have for Urdu is completely different. When I see Urdu written anywhere it cools my eyes.

I come from a North Indian Muslim community. I am not a religious person at all. You · might say I am anti-religious. But I come from a particular ethos, a particular culture. If you plonk me down in Tamil Nadu then it'll be unsettling for me. There are certain loyalties I will always have but I shouldn't start degrading others. That's just stupid. We all have biases. I can't see idli and biryani as equal! It's just not possible for me. My loyalty will always be with the biryani. But if I go off on a condescending rant "these idli eaters" - that degree should remain moderate. (2006; bold emphasis added)

It is this very problem of 'degree' that enters the India-Pakistan equation for Akhtar. In the Indian national imaginary, the fact that even the smallest things that bind two individuals or collectives are completely ignored has resulted in a Pakistani mindset that is only interested in the territorial defiling of India, if not its annihilation, given its "religious zeal":

If you ask me, Pakistan's stand on Kashmir is totally wrong. Why? They say there should be democracy and public opinion in Kashmir. When you haven't been able to protect those two in your own country what gives you the right to be able to pass that judgment on Kashmir? You say that Pakistan's claim is that this was and is a Muslim-majority area. It means in 2006 you are again standing with two-nation theory - that India is for Hindus and Pakistan is for Muslim and since India is a Hindu country how can Kashmir, which is a Muslim-majority state, be in India?

I agree. I accept that India is a Hi_ndu Raj. You tell me there are 15 crore Muslims in India-what do I do with them? You want Kashmir because it's a Muslim majority dominated area but you don't want Muslims. (Akhtar 2006; bold emphasis added).

Here, although Akhtar accepts the Hinduness of India which is also the same logic that informed the Muslim League's insistence that the Muslims of lndia constituted a separate civilization, he simultaneously questions the fundamental validity of religion being the basis of uniting a collective. After all, if that were the case, India wouldn't have a significant Muslim population 256

(Akhtar 2006). If that were the case, the separation of East and West Pakistan would not have

taken place in 1971 given that religion would have been sufficient to unite both territories (Akhtar

2006). If affinity with the ummah was what concerned Pakistan as a Muslim state and shaped its

policies both domestic and foreign, then the Pakistani other "wouldn't heave a sigh of relief when

my (i.e. the Indian Muslim's] house was burnt.. .or [in the event that a] mosque was demolished"

points out Akhtar (2006). Thus, in this articulation, Pakistan is just as much the enemy of the

Indian Muslim as the Hindu fundamentalist in India; both delight when a Muslim in India, suffers

. any setbacks (Akhtar 2006). If for the Hindu fundamentalist the failure and loss of the Indian

Muslim exacts revenge, for a Muslim Pakistan it is a reminder of the legitimacy of the two-nation

theory. The problem with the response of the latter, argues Akhtar, is that for all this concern for

the ummah the hatred or lack of concern for the Indian Muslim remains forgotten by a callous

'Pakistani other' (2006). To assert this point, Akhtar offered, at this juncture in our conversation,

the story of an interaction between Maulana Maududi - the founder of the political party in

Pakistan known as Jamaat-e-lslami - and Justice Munir who was investigating the status of

minorities in Hindustan as evidence of his complaint:

Maulana Abul Alam Maududi - who founded Jamaat-e-lslami - was called by Justice Munir. Now Justice Munir asked Maududi "you tell me that what you're doing here with the minorities, the Hindu minorities, don't you think it'll have a negative impact on the Mussalmans of India?" So what he said was that "now that Pakistan has been made then all the more reason that all the Indians should declare their country a Hindu state. And in that Hindu state - in that Hindu Raj - if the Muslims are treated as secondary citizens or as mleccha I have no problems." As a matter of fact, it was very careful of him, I think, to say that he had no problems. He should have said I love it. Because that gives them power. (2006).

That a Muslim Pakistan has no concern for its Muslim neighbors in Hindustan renders the very

legitimacy of their claim towards a religious identity aligned with an ummah suspect in the Indian

national imaginary:

So they (Pakistanis] are totally confused. How can they talk about the ummah? They turn around and say "we are from Pakistan" so we have nothing to do with them [i.e. Indian Muslims]. This is a confused lot. ...

Two-nation theory is rubbish. Nations, in this world, are not based on religion. If that was the case, then all of Middle East would have been one country. If that was the case, 257

then Iraq and Iran wouldn't have been fighting for 8 years. The smaller separate states wouldn't exist - Europe would be one country. Religion does not make nations.

It's a lie. There are two countries in the world that are made on lies - Pakistan and Israel. They are founded on lies. There is nothing real about them. (Akhtar 2006; bold emphasis added).

Thus, from the perspective to which Akhtar subscribes, the struggle for Pakistan represented political deceit that actually harmed India in 1947 by chopping away its land. There was no legitimacy or "reality" or truth to that claim but its outcome certainly was the defiling of "Mother

India" or BharatMata. That Pakistan continues to refer to the same logic in its dealings with India likely translates into a perception of the 'other' as someone to be viewed with suspicion which is exacerbated by its complete disregard for the Indian Muslim. Add all of that up and it equals a

Pakistani 'other' who 'religious fanaticism' is something that the 'Indian self' has to guard and defend itself against. How does this impc;ict the prospects for peace between the two nuclear rivals?

Akhtar contends that there are two attitudes - one of assimilation and the other of rejection (2006). When religion enters the mix, it tends towards the latter and therefore, in the

Pakistani context, "faith [itselfj failed the day ... [the Muslim who campaigned for Pakistan] rejected the Hindu" (Akhtar 2006). From that day forward, according to Akhtar, divisiveness has been the rule of the game in Pakistani nationalism .leading to the othering and subsequent ostracizing of various religious sects within Islam including Qaddianis, Ahmadis, and even the

Shias (2006). The problem is that the divisiveness that gives Pakistan its identity is neither

"moderate" nor "secular" thereby breeding a "fanaticism" that "has no limits" (Akhtar 2006). This is a fanaticism that refuses to budge on issues that are necessary for peace to come about.

Contrasted against Akhtar's more vociferous denouncement of Pakistan's religious nationalism, is M's response. Although more sanguine than Akhtar, M Pakistan's religious nationalism remains problematic.

Reminiscing about a visit to Pakistan after 1984 when the India-Pakistan series was canceled following the assassination of then Prime Minister Indira Gandhi, M spoke fondly of an 258 evening he spent with retired cricketers in Pakistan with whom he had once played earlier in his career. The desire the Pakistanis expressed for a resumption of cricket diplomacy inspired M to approach Foreign Minister Jaswant Singh to explore the prospects of doing so. This is how he described the Minister's response:

He said to me that if we played in Karachi - and at that time there was a lot of unrest in Karachi and it was very violent. So he said to me that "suppose of the Indian team plays in Karachi and they walk into the crowd. And there's just a firecracker that lands 10 yards away from him. Do you realize what would happen?" ... So I agreed that it was not an opportune time and that we must wait. (M 2006)

Here M's recollection of Minister Singh words describes an ordinary event that highlights the importance of the deployment of rhetorical resources in the creation and maintenance of political orders. Something as harmless as a firecracker thrown by a spectator, perhaps only to celebrate, can trigger chaos precisely because of the ways in which the lines have been drawn between

'India' and 'Pakistan'. Here animosity is always available for deployment. A firecracker, in this scenario, can just as easily become the equivalent of an attack by a 'Pakistani' on an 'Indian' thereby potentially creating circumstances ripe for an escalation of hostilities. Or, at the very least, being perceived as an attack motivated by religious fanaticism after which hell is bound to break loose.

Thus, the ethics of lndian-ness fault the 'Pakistani other' first for its divisive behavior in pre-partition India, and, second for continuing on the same path of 'religious fanaticism' thus posing a security threat for India. The underlying assumption here is that had Pakistan not gotten lost in the craziness of its religiosity and paid attention to secular nationalism, then India would have no doubt existed in the same territorial avatar as it did before 1947. The 'Indian self', through its appeal to secular narratives of nationhood, is the one who continues to be cognizant of the ties and memories that can bind it with Pakistan in amicable ways. However, what is implied is that until and unless the 'Pakistani other' cannot begin to respond to the narrative of commonality etched out in the Indian national imagination, it will be very tough to find a middle ground that moves the two nuclear rivals away from contentiousness and hostilities. 259

Ambivalence and the India-Pakistan Peace Process

The rhetorical exchanges analyzed in this chapter highlight two things. First, and most obvious, that the peace process between these two nuclear rivals is fragile enough to come undone at any time. It was just before the Mumbai terrorist attacks that India and Pakistan concluded the fifth round of peace negotiations between them pledging their commitment to a peace process that had already come under strain over the past few months. In this vein, the rhetoric that has flowed out of Pakistan and India recently serves as a stark reminder of the fact that drawing straight lines between factors and outcomes, in this case the assumption that getting a 'self' to view its 'other' as 'friend' paves the way to peace, is simplistic and obfuscates our understanding of the political order(s) that we attempt to examine and understand. This brings me to my second point.

In the India-Pakistan context, the 'self' narrates the 'other' in multiple ways that might seem incongruous but, nonetheless, exist simultaneously. The ways in which these narratives confront each other as actors draw on them to make sense within the context of a space-time particularity shapes the political order that emerges as a consequence. If Pakistan blames the bullying and aggression of the 'Indian other' for disruptions in the peace process, the Indian national imaginary casts 'religious nationalism' itself in the role of the villain. In the first instance, the claims are markedly reminiscent of the Muslim League's deployment of the two-nation theory in its demand for an independent homeland for Muslims in the form of Pakistan. If once they legitimated separation, they now make an amicable relationship with a Hindu India challenging given its tendency to try to tame and harm the Muslim/Pakistani 'self'. In the latter, the skepticism of secular ideals shapes the Indian national imaginary such that religious nationalism, which the

Pakistani 'other', is something to be mistrusted, loathed, and that continues to threaten the territorial integrity of India. It is something that can explode at any time and create trouble. While these articulations provide for excessive violence and animosity, the ethical imaginary, through appeals to commonality, also affords the possibility of friendlier relations or, at the very least, a 260 relative muting of hostilities such that military confrontation isn't the first response of either side.

The coexistence of and confrontations between these multiple narrations of 'self' and

'other' is what inspires the next and final chapter of this dissertation. While this chapter endeavored to get a sense of the problems and challenges identified by those involved in peace initiatives, the next continues the same discussion to provide a more concrete answer to the question of why peace is problematic in the India-Pakistan context. To construct an answer to this question I turn to the Mumbai terrorist attacks and study the statements issued by Indian and

Pakistani officials as well as intellectuals who are involved in policy work through the lens of the ethical imaginary. This episode is of critical importance in so far that it represents a significant shift in the tenor of India-Pakistan relations - one that proffers direct access to a process in which we can observe why and how peace unravels between the two nuclear rivals despite their professed commitment to it. CHAPTER 8

CONCLUDING REFLECTIONS: BORDERS,

BELIEFS, & ORDERS

What I have sought to illustrate in this dissertation is that political orders, in this case

India-Pakistan relations, are a consequence of the ways in which actors make their worlds meaning-full. This process by which actors give meaning to the worlds they inhabit is, as I have argued, an ethical one. As actors take actions, they do so in ways that they deem appropriate for them to take. Here 'appropriateness' is an ethical calculation based on how actors make sense of actions that have been taken in the name of this actor in the past and the kind of identity they want the actor to have in the future as they decide how they ought to act in the present.

Consequently, it is in these negotiations that actors' identities are emergent and that a consciousness of a 'self' as distinct from its 'others' is articulated. The outcome of these interactions is visible in the political orders we see around us - political arrangements cohere and are sustained in the actions these actors take.

Thus, this dissertation contends, that political orders ought not to be enshrined as the inevitable outcome of a combination of 'issues' where the relationship between the mere presence of factor X and outcome Y is presumed a priori but are, rather, contingent achievements of intersubjective processes of meaning-making deployed by actors in the course of social interactions.

How is this relevant to the research question with which this investigation is concerned i.e. why is peace problematic in the India-Pakistan context? I return to this question by turning to an analysis of the rhetorical exchanges that have taken place between India and Pakistan in the

261 262 wake of the terrorist attacks that gripped the Indian commercial capital of Mumbai between

November 26-29, 2008. This discussion is based on insights generated in the preceding empirical chapters using the analytic outlined in chapter 2.

The Mumbai Terrorist Attacks and the India-Pakistan Peace Process

Speaking shortly after the initial terrorist strikes in Mumbai on November 26, 2008,

Indian Prime Minister Manmohan Singh held Pakistan responsible. Accusations against the

"religious fanaticism" of the neighboring Pakistan heightened as the initial series of ten coordinated attacks held the commercial capital of Mumbai under siege for 3 days altogether. As interrogations commenced, the Indian police issued statements claiming that the terrorists were

1 Punjabi-speaking Pakistanis and were affiliated with Lashkar-e-Taiyyaba - an lslamist group established in Afghanistan said to be operating out of Azad Kashmir2 in Pakistan with their main mission being freedom from Indian rule in Kashmir.

Pakistan's top leadership denied these allegations while urging India to resist from pointing fingers at Pakistan prior to obtaining conclusive evidence so as not to derail a peace process that, despite bursts of progress in its early stages, had already been fledgling for months now. Pakistan's Ambassador to the US Hussain Haqqani, Pakistani Prime Minister Gilani and

Foreign Minister Qureshi issued unequivocal statements denying Pakistan's involvement in the

Mumbai terror attacks while emphasizing that non-state actors that happened to use Pakistani territory to enter India on their mission ought not to be taken as evidence of state-sponsored or state-assisted terrorism (BBC World News [London], 29 November 2008). Condemning the attacks, Pakistani officials pledged support to India in conducting its investigation as well as in persecuting the criminals should it be established that they had any links to Pakistan.

1 Translated in English as "Army of the Righteous".

2 As mentioned earlier, Azad or Independent Kashmir is the phrase used primarily in Pakistan to refer to the Kashmiri territory under Pakistan's administrative control. 263

What is relevant to the discussion at hand is not so much the outcome of this ongoing

investigation but, rather, the rhetorical claims deployed by both India and Pakistan in the wake of

these attacks.

It is worth noting here that both India and Pakistan are often quick to blame the

Pakistani/Indian 'other' respectively for episodes of terrorism on their soil as well as ethnic

violence, in the case of Pakistan, and communal violence, in the case of India. Such interactions

lead, almost predictably, to a worsening of the relationship between the two neighboring

countries. The infamous "external linkages" or "foreign hand" are oft-used phrases when such

events take place in both Pakistan and India.

For India, Pakistani 'other', consumed by religious sentiments, has continued to

sponsor terrorist acts against India both as a state as well as in clandestine ways through the

provision of safe havens and other support extended to terrorist groups as well as the covert

activities of Pakistan's intelligence agency, Inter-Services Intelligence or, ISi as it is more

popularly known. This is reason not only to disengage from its enemy neighbor but also,

depending on the circumstances, a reasonable justification to wage war against a Pakistan that

Indian Prime Minister Manmohan Singh has asserted continues to utilize terrorism as "an

instrument of state policy" against the Indian nation-state (People's Daily Online [Beijing, China],

6 January 2009). Indian Minister of the State of External Affairs Anand Sharma has termed the

Mumbai terrorist attacks as a "grave setback" to the peace process while accusing Pakistan of

having led "an assault on the dignity of the Indian nation state" in the form of the Mumbai terrorist

attacks (VOA News [New Delhi, India], 1 December 2008). It is not just the politicians who are

part of this debate. Interviews of citizens from Mumbai and New Delhi shown on TV capture

similar sentiments of going to war against Pakistan to "put it in its place once and for all" and to teach the "fundamentalist" neighbor that the "secular democracy that is India reigns supreme"

(BBC World News (London], 26-29 November 2008). 264

Reports pouring out of Pakistan have shown unanimous condemnation of these attacks

by both Pakistani citizens and public officials while at the same time registering their complaint of

what they recognize as the standard Indian response to all terrorist attacks whereby Pakistan is

. blamed willy-nilly and often without appropriate justification (BBC World News [London], 12

December 2008). For example, after holding Pakistan responsible for the bombing of the

Samjhauta Express train service between India and Pakistan in 2006 as soon as the events

happened, Indian intelligence, following completion of their investigation, eventually withdrew the

accusation on Pakistan and clarified that the attack had been executed by Hindu extremists

financed by a colonel in the Indian Army. Hasan-Askari Rizvi, a professor and political analyst in

Pakistan, has asserted that an attack of the design and magnitude that was seen in Mumbai

could not have been carried out without domestic support and cautioned India to "realise the

futility of blaming Pakistan for its troubles" and "face the reality of homegrown radicalism" which

exists in the form of both local Islamic militancy among Muslims marginalized within Indian

society due to communal divides and discrimination sanctioned, even if unofficially, by the Indian

state itself as well as Hindutva militants and groups inspired by this philosophy (Daily Times

[Lahore, Pakistan), 30 November 2008). That the Indian authorities had received credible threats

of an imminent terrorist attack earlier in September3 is something to which Pakistan has called

attention to suggest that it represents an easy scapegoat deployed by the Indian government

every time it needs to detract attention away from its own failures to meet its responsibility to its

public.

The terrorist attacks in Mumbai saw an increase in ethnic violence targeting Muhajirs in

the port city of Karachi in the days following the Mumbai terrorist attap~s. Some officials in

Pakistan have linked these attacks to Indian elements. Others have accused hardliner militant

groups opposed to peace with India of engaging in violence to fuel the hatred further. Still others

3 This is also the reason that several officials in the Indian government cited after resigning from their posts in the wake of the attacks on Mumbai in November 2008. Citizens of Mumbai have carried out protest marches against the intelligence failure of local agencies. 265

have accused Muhajirs sympathetic to their Indian roots of attacking the Pashtun-speaking

community; it is worth noting that the latter tends to be described in Pakistani public discourse as

more "Muslim" or "Islamic" than Muhajirs who are seen as more "Indian" or "Hindu" as detailed in

chapter 4 of this dissertation. An airline worker interviewed at the port of Karachi, which is where

India claims the terrorists set sail for Indian shores from, had this to say: "Why do they always

blame us? Any time something happens in India, they say Pakistan is behind it, but they don't

come up with any proof" (BBC World News [London], 12 December 2008). Similarly, other

Pakistani citizens interviewed during the coverage of the Mumbai terror attacks by the BBC echoed similar concerns as the airline worker while condemning the loss of lives in Mumbai.

Restating Pakistan's commitment to the India-Pakistan peace process, Islamabad has expressed

regret that statements issued by New Delhi have worsened an atmosphere already challenged by

mistrust between the two nuclear rivals (BBC World News [London], 26-29 November 2008).

Just as India accuses Pakistan of actions that exacerbate tensions, Pakistan too holds

India responsible for always "creating a fuss" where "unjustified" because it has "never been committed to peace with Pakistan" and, thus, contributes to a deterioration in the relationship every time things are going smoothly (BBC World News [London], 26-29 November 2008). In a field report filed by BBC World News journalist Barbara Plett as part of the channel's ongoing coverage of the Mumbai terrorist attacks, several Pakistani citizens interviews in major cities like

Karachi, Lahore, and Islamabad stated that while Pakistan had shown great restraint in not

blaming India or Indian spies for the most recent terrorist attack in Islamabad on September 20,

2008, India had stooped so low as to blame Pakistan for its own inability to provide security for its

inhabitants despite credible threats; he described this "aggression" as "typically Indian" (BBC

World News [London], 26-29 November 2008).

The exchanges that have taken place between India and Pakistan following the Mumbai terrorist attacks hearkens us back to the debates that took place at the time of the freedom struggle in British India around the different responses to the two-nation theory. 266

If Pakistan points fingers at the aggression of the 'Indian other', the Indian national

imaginary casts Pakistan's 'religiosity' itself in the role of the villain.

In the first instance, the claims mounted by the 'Pakistani self' are markedly reminiscent

of the Muslim League's deployment of the two-nation theory in its demand for an independent

homeland for Muslims in the form of Pakistan. If once the argument that civilizational differences

between Hindus and Muslims necessitate territorial separation so that the latter could be spared

of a loss of self and domination by a Hindu majority, it now renders an amicable relationship with

a Hindu India challenging. Here the 'Pakist~mi self' is cast in the role of victim. The 'Indian other'

is the 'bully' here who threatened coexistence between Hindus and Muslims in British India and,

now continues to display similar aggressio,n thereby rendering the peace process untenable. In

the Pakistani national narrative, it wasn't the secular logic of the Indian National Congress that

represented a commitment to the unity of the Indian nation but, rather, the magnanimity of Muslim

Leaguers like Jinnah who, as late as 1946 despite the increasing violence in which Muslims lost

lives as a result of Hindu and Sikh hatred, gave preference to a solution in which there would be a

Muslim state made up of Muslim-majority areas in a united India as opposed to an independent

Muslim state. Similar sentiments form the foundation of Pakistan's plea that it is the 'Indian other'

that stands in the way of peace between the two nuclear rivals. In describing 'India' as a 'bully' or

· 'aggressor', the 'Pakistani self' builds on the narrative that it was the Muslim League that was

committed to territorial unity while the Hindus and the Congress forced trem to eventually

demand a separate state completely independent of a proposed Indian Union. This helps justify

its articulation of the 'Indian other' as the recalcitrant one and the 'Pakistani self' as

wholeheartedly committed to the peace process. Sympathizing with the predicament that India

found itself in during the Mumbai terrorist attacks, the 'Pakistani self' further narrates its role as

that of the 'rational one' who always wants peace but has to retaliate forced by an 'Indian other'

that cannot be reasoned with. Contending that India has to come to terms with 'religious

radicalism' within its borders attacks the misalignment between India's words, its insistence on 267 secularism, and deeds in the form of the communal problem faced by the Indian state.

Now, let's turn to the Indian national narrative in which the 'religious fanaticism' of the

'Pakistani other' is held responsible for any failures with respect to peace initiatives and an increase in hostility. Here, the skepticism of secular ideals shapes the Indian national imaginary such that religious nationalism, which the Pakistani 'other', is something to be mistrusted, loathed, and that continues to threaten the territorial integrity of India. It is something that can explode at any time and create trouble. In this articulation, India, as a secular democracy, is crafted as a legitimate state. Implicit here is a denouncement of a state grounded in religious ideals akin to the

Congress' denial of the Muslim league's proposals grounded in the logic of the two-nation theory that cast Hindus and Muslims as completely distinct civilizational entities. The basic proposition here is that it is only religious fanatics like the 'Pakistani other' that engage in terrorist acts in clear violation of state sovereignty. Here Pakistan's religiosity is cast as an ongoing problem - one that violated the sanctity of the unity of India in 1947 in the form of partition and, in the present day, continues to attack its "dignity'' through terrorist acts inspired by irrational religious philosophies. Consequently, at the heart of India's characterization of Pakistan's religious fanaticism as problematic, lies an insistence on the superiority and, hence, authenticity, of the more rational logic of a secular nationalism out of which territorial realities are, and ought to be, fashioned. Thus, territories here intersect, by implication, with relations between territories circumscribed as nation-states. In the discourse that emerged in India following the terrorist attacks, Pakistan, as a 'religious fanatic' is to blame for the fact that the peace process between the two nuclear rivals has continued to lose ground. If it was the same religious zeal that once broke up India in 1947, perhaps it is about time that the 'Pakistani other' who continues to use religious logic to threaten the territorial integrity and security of the Indian nation is taught a lesson.

In the background of each of these narratives in which the Pakistani and Indian positions vis-a-vis the potential breakdown of the peace process are encapsulated lies a third 268 articulation. One that reminds us that each side is capable of seeing the 'other' as someone with whom amicable relations ought to exist. Even if it is the 'other' who is to be blamed for the fact that this has yet to be achieved, it is important to note that both India and Pakistan acknowledge their desire for peace and friendship with each other. The question that must be answered now is why this desire itself has not served to overcome the mistrust that we see on both sides of the

India-Pakistan border. It is this problem that is the focus of the next section to which I now turn.

The India-Pakistan Peace Process: Coming Undone?

As clarified in the discussion presented above, both Islamabad and New Delhi, as well as the citizenry at large, maintain that it is the 'other' who is desirous of creating instability within their territorial borders while the 'self' that is 'logical' enough to recognize the importance of a peace process and commit to doing whatever it takes to render the relationship between Pakistan and India harmonious.

A quick glance at the rhetoric coming out of both India and Pakistan in the months and weeks since the Mumbai terrorist attacks will help highlight the nature of the relationship between the two countries at present.

The Indian Prime Minister has placed the blame solely on Pakistan for "whipping up war hysteria" (Pakistan Times [Islamabad, Pakistan], 6 January 2009). The Pakistani response, on the other hand, is exemplified in the words of Rizvi, a Pakistani political and defence analyst, who has warned that "Pakistan will reject any such accusation ... [a]nd the dialogue between the two countries, which has been faltering quite a bit, will falter further. It will be a big loss to the people of the two countries. No one can deny the gravity of the situation in India. India and Pakistan ought to work together to fight terrorism, but India will not get the cooperation of Pakistan if it blames Pakistan for masterminding these attacks" (Rediff India [New Delhi, India], 28 November

2008). Bharat Karnad, a strategic analyst at the New Delhi Center for Policy Research, concurs that the situation is grave but is also optimistic that neither "government has the will to get into 269 punitive mode, and order any kind of military counteraction"; this optimism is however balanced by the admission that India-Pakistan relations are and will remain "in tatters ... for a while now"

(BBC World News [London], 29 November 2008).

The rhetoric on both sides is eerily similar. As India and Pakistan find their ties embroiled in increasing tensions, each continues to reaffirm its commitment to peace while clamoring that any breakdown in the relationship is the fault of the 'other'. It is 'India the bully' that

Pakistan points fingers at; in India, friendly relations with the 'religious fanatic' that is Pakistan are a bitter pill to swallow. The presumption that is common to both assertions is that the 'other' presents a perpetual threat to the security and integrity of the 'self'. In the Pakistani context, what lies at the heart of this sentiment is the very logic of the two-nation theory which remains foundational, historically speaking, to the very existence of the nation-state of Pakistan .. If prior to independence in 1947, Hindus and Muslim were two distinct civilizations whose coexistence was unimaginable, then a Hindu India comes to be viewed with the same suspicion. If a Hindu majority in a united India would have spelt doom for the Muslims of India, who were a minority, after the departure of the British Raj in the subcontinent, then it is just as plausible that Pakistan views a much larger India similarly. If pre-1947 coexistence was at stake, then in a post-1947

South Asia, a Hindu India is just as unlikely to be able to maintain a friendly relationship with the ' 'Islamic Republic of Pakistan'. In India, the partition of its territory by the Muslims of India who formed Pakistan represents the ultimate betrayal; one that informs its assessment of the

'Pakistani other' as having designs on the nation of India such that it constitutes an ongoing security threat that is evident in the dispute over Kashmir and terrorist attacks.

Bearing in mind the above, I would argue that the reason peace continues to be so elusive in the India-Pakistan context is intimately intertwined with the very 'ethics' of being 'Indian' and 'Paki,stani'. To illustrate this, I turn once again to statements issued by Indian and Pakistani officials in recent weeks. 270

On February 13, 2009, Rehman Malik, a senior security official in the Ministry of Interior in Pakistan, acknowledged that "some part of the conspiracy'' of the Mumbai terror attacks had been "hatched on Pakistani soil" while adding that other countries such as the US, Austria, Spain,

Italy and Russia were also linked through the use of cellphone cards and Internet servers by the terrorists (New York Times, 13 February 2009). Malik added that Pakistan's role in investigating the Mumbai terrorist attacks was proof of its commitment to India but pointed a finger at India for not demonstrating similar confidence and trust in Pakistan by rejecting President Zardari's offer to send Pakistani intelligence officials to India to assist India with its investigation (New York Times,

13 February 2009). Once again what is visible here is that it is Pakistan that continues to make a good faith effort vis-a-vis preserving a harmonious relationship with its Indian neighbor. Blame here is attributed to the lack of reciprocity here on the part of the latter. Pakistan's Intelligence

Chief, Lt. Gen. Ahmed Shuja Pasha has insisted that Pakistan views not India but terror as its real enemy while expressing his disappointment that the Indian leadership was "simply not ready" to accept goodwill gestures from Pakistan and continued to engage in bellicosity (The News

International [Karachi, Pakistan], 8 January 2009). Pakistan's Foreign Minister Qureshi expressed disappointment over India's eagerness to descend into ''finger-pointing" while he was visiting

India - evidence of his commitment to improve bilateral relations - and its ongoing suspicion of

Pakistan's goodwill and commitment to better ties with India (Washington Post, 8 January 2009).

India has responded to Pakistan's recent admission of the ties that the terrorists who carried out the attacks against Mumbai had to Pakistan as a "positive development" while adding that it still had a long way to go in taking "credible steps" to destroy the "infrastructure of terrorism" that finds safe havens in the country (New York Times, 13 February 2009).

In this vein, mistrust of the 'Pakistani other' continues to be expressed in conjunction with the 'religiosity' that is fundamental to its existence as a nation-state whose founding philosophy was the "two-nation theory". In fact, former Indian bureaucrat, in a recent interview, K.

Subrahmanyam has asserted that India-Pakistan relations continue to be governed by the ''two- 271 nation theory'' and an attendant "clash of civilization[s]" mindset (2008). Elaborating further,

Subrahmanyam has called for a break in diplomatic relations between the two countries arguing that:

We know for sure that so long as Pakistan believes in the two-nation theory and as long as the Pakistan Army thinks that it's a guardian of Pakistan's ideology, India will not get any cooperation from the Pakistan Army in dealing with jihadi terrorists . ... Instead of allowing Pakistan to create tension, you should seize the initiative from their hands. We should try to project the real Pakistan, which is supporting terrorists. (2008; bold emphasis added)

The fault here is clearly Pakistan's. More specifically, Subrahmanyam links the support of anti-

India terrorism in Pakistan with a religious inspired separatist sentiment. Thus, in the Indian national narrative, the absence of peace between these two nations is inextricably linked to

Pakistan's religious nationalism which legitimates 'fundamentalist hatred' against India's secular, and thereby more rational, nationalism. This rhetoric is also evident in the remarks of former

Foreign Secretary of India, Kanwal Sibal, who has advocated a suspension of the composite dialog process and a dismantling of confidence building measures in the realm of joint cooperation on terrorist activities given the reality of a Pakistan that continues to paint itself as a

"victim of terrorism" on the world stage while continuing to support "anti-India terrorist outfits"

(2008). To add yet another voice of consensus, the same view has also been articulated by well- known editor-in-chief of the Indian magazine Covert, and political commentator, M. J. Akbar, who believes that India's relations with Pakistan ought to be "let go" given that India's efforts to maintain ties with neighboring Pakistan has brought nothing but "violence and terror" (2008). The contrast that he draws elsewhere between India and Pakistan is rather telling of the dye in which the 'Pakistani other' is cast in the Indian national narrative:

Indians and Pakistanis are the same people. Why then have the two nations moved on such divergent arcs over the last six decades? The idea of India is stronger than the Indian, and the idea of Pakistan weaker than the Pakistani. Multi-religious, multi­ ethnic, secular, democratic India was an idea that belonged to the future; one­ dimensional Pakistan was a concept borrowed from the fears of the past. India has progressed into a modern nation occasionally hampered by backward forces. Pakistan is regressing into a medieval society with a smattering of modern elements. (M.J. Akbar, Times of India [New Delhi, India] 8 March 2009; bold emphasis added) 272

Akbar's rhetoric here is peppered with Nehruvian ideology. India, given its secular nationalism, is linked with the 'future' thus implying progress and prosperity. Pakistan, on the other hand, as a state carved out of religious beliefs amounts to little more than a 'fear' that is backward and has created a regressive society. One that relies on inhumane acts such as 'terrorism' that are linked to its very ideology.

No matter what the rhetoric, what is becoming apparent in the wake of the Mumbai terrorist attacks that while there is a desire for peace its pursuit continues to be challenged. It is this observation that is the subject of the next and final section of this chapter.

In Conclusion ...

What is gleaned then from the rhetorical exchanges analyzed in this chapter in addition to the insights generated by the preceding empirical chapters is that there is something more to account for the fact that peace continues to be rather elusive in the India-Pakistan context than simply the presence or absence of certain factors.

Explanations that merely outline contentious factors seem unable to reconcile the fact that despite the lack. of resolution over these, actors cah at least come to some sort of agreement to begin to negotiate. For example, if Kashmir was contentious in and of itself, it would be logically impossible to think that India and Pakistan can even begin a dialog to find ways to address their differences. Other accounts of a more constructivist stripe, in so far that their prescriptive investigations are based on assumptions that the India-Pakistan conflict is a result of interpretive stances adopted by people or states, have remained too thin. What these accounts have generally overlooked is that it is not for lack of perceiving the 'other' as 'friend' or 'neighbor' or of desiring peace that conflict persists but, rather, despite the availability of such ways of narrating 'self' and 'other'. This scholarship presumes an automatic connection between 'absence of peace' and an inability to see the 'other' as 'friend' or 'neighbor'. In this vein, for all its 273 constructivist leanings, it remains sadly out of touch with the processes of social construction themselves

Attempting to rectify these gaps to understand why peace is problematic between

Pakistan and India, this dissertation has looked to a third possibility.

I have sought to trace the very emergence of 'Pakistani-ness' and 'lndian-ness' in all of

its complicated, seemingly complicated glory. To restate this in terms of the analytic that shapes this investigation, I have turned away from pre-constructed links drawn between factors and outcomes and looked to detail the 'ethical imaginaries' out of which actorhood is crafted and the articulations afforded by these possibilities as deployed by actors themselves in bounding 'self' and 'other'. From this approach the influence of 'factors' in shaping 'political order' ought not to be taken for granted but accounted for as a creative process that is wholly contingent upon the ethical considerations actors weigh in the course of taking action. As I established at the outset, factor-based explanations of the India-Pakistan conflict, in their neglect of the creative and constitutive aspects of agency, fall short with respect to their explanatory power in so far that they are unable to accommodate heterogeneity and account for changes in political orders. Sadly, the majority of international relations theories do not provide the necessary corrective to this shortcoming. A relational social constructivist perspective, however, that places bounding practices front and center of political orders overcomes this problem by emphasizing contingency, processes, and configurational causality through prioritizing agency as the constitutive force in the making and remaking of the worlds we inhabit. Bounding practices allow for heterogeneity by admitting ethics and creating room for multiple pathways to an outcome as well as multiple narrative possibilities that helps us trace how outcomes themselves change noticeably. Here they facilitate a conceptual shift that, as I have argued, produces an account better equipped to understand how political orders emerge instead of taking them for granted.

What this approach has revealed is that the difficulty of achieving peace in the India-

I Pakistan context is not because the parties cannot view each other in amicable ways. Instead, 274 what we have seen to date in the India-Pakistan context by way of the persistence of conflictual relations and the frailty of peace processes, can be attributed to the complex interplay of narratives in which the 'other' is articulated as 'friend' with those in which s/he is articulated as

'foe.'

For India, Pakistan's religious nationalism is the root cause of all evil and the obstacle to peace. From the Pakistani perspective, a Hindu India is encountered as the same 'bully' or

'aggressor' with whom they could not have coexisted without being dominated in a united India after the departure of the British in 1947. At the same time, both Indians and Pakistanis, turn to notions of a common past as well as shared traditions, values, and characteristics in expressing their desire for peace with an 'other' who is a 'neighbor' or a 'friend' or even a 'brother'. A varied number of political orders ranging from a composite dialog process to wars to non-military hostility to accusing the 'other' of being the foreign hand that uses terrorist tactics against the 'self' are crafted out of the ways in which actors deploy the host of narratives about 'self' and 'other' in particular ways at particular times.

In other words, what matters are not factors but what actors do. It is these actions taken in a given space-time particularity that produce specific configurations whose outcome we recognize as political order. These actions are emergent in intersubjective processes of meaning- making that are through and through ethical in a logical or genealogical sense.What I mean by this that it is equally plausible for the Pakistani/Indian 'self' to see the Indian/Pakistani 'other' as

'friend' and 'foe'; both these narrations of the boundary that distinguishes 'self' from 'other' and legitimates relations across that boundary are, simultaneously, 'Indian' and 'Pakistani'. How is that the case? Nandy's analysis of the India-Pakistan conflict is instructive in this regard:

It's a love-hate relationship on both sides. It's almost as if the bitterness came from the splitting of a joint family, and each one was terribly curious, angry, and nostalgic at the same time. Like a couple who are divorced after being deeply in love. Both claim that the divorce has been good for them, but both are curious about what the other is doing - what vegetables, furniture, or books the other buys in the market, and what he or she does with the children and the house. And both sides are constantly looking for evidence of how bad the other is. (2006, 93) 275

Let us move from this metaphor of feuding families to the links established in this investigation. If Pakistan's appeal to an ancient past lies in an emphasis on a connection with the territorial and symbolic past of Islam - what I refer to as religious nationalism, India's denial of

Pakistan's legitimacy lies in the appeal to a nationalism of a secular variant. That the commonality on which arguments for amicable relations are mounted is very much mired against interactions with the same articulations that insist upon divisiveness renders the relationship much more complicated. For example, partition survivors I spoke to emphasized experiences such as celebrating religious rituals together in pre-partition India in which they located the scope for friendship in a post-1947 world order. If this illustrated the ability to fashion commonality out of difference, it also hosts the potential for the opposite movement i.e. from commonality into difference. Memories of religious rituals were countered by those of segregation and communal violence thereby legitimating arguments in which the 'other' comes to be constructed as the

'enemy' of the 'friendship' that the 'self' sought to maintain as long as possible.

In this vein, the empirical analysis presented herein shatters our very basic commonsense notions of the phrases 'conflict' and 'peace'. Normally we conceptualize these, in both everyday life and academic discourse, as political orders that do not overlap. In one respect, that is definitely true. However, to leave things there would be tantamount to settling for the superficial that serves to mask the complexity characteristic of the worlds we inhabit. If there is anything that the India-Pakistan case has taught us it is that articulations of 'self' and 'other' cannot be secluded into the neat logic of fixed lines with a clearly demarcated 'inside' and

'outside' as it were. If being 'Indian' or 'Pakistani' requires pointing guns at each other at one time and, at another, embracing him/her tightly then our theoretical language and analytical tools must not only allow for this shift but be able to account for its role in shaping social and political life.

Peace talks do not negate the possibility of a breakdown that is capable of degenerating into the 276 severest expressions of animosity - military confrontation and a serious, if somewhat resigned,

4 willingness to exercise a nuclear option .

These variations in political orders compel us to rethink and rework the analytical tools we have at our disposal. In this case, moving the analytical focus away from 'factors' to 'actors' using thicker conceptions of the constructivist argument reveals varied articulations of being

'Pakistani' or 'Indian' that cannot be contained by the linear logic of an a priori causal logic between 'identity' and 'order'. What I have proposed, therefore, is turning to the interaction between ethical imaginaries and articulations to clear the space for deeply contextual understandings of the ways in which 'bounding practices' - or 'bordering' - are deeply complicit in constituting 'identity' and, therefore, 'order' in particular ways at particular times. What matters in this vein are "borders and beliefs."

4 It is of little consequence that leaders recognize the gravity of using nuclear force or that the international community is bound to intervene should things begin to get out of hand. Even if this is merely rhetoric that is equivalent of tyvo warring parties not wanting to lose face, it provides insights into the ways in which the 'self' is bound in relation to the 'other'. It is that aspect that is of consequence to the investigation at hand. This is not to say that I have no normative positions on nuclear politics but that what matters in this analysis is what has happened rather than what might happen. Predictive wagers, constructing hypothetical scenarios, or, for that matter, engaging in counterfactual exercises is only relevant to a relational inquiry such as this one in so far that such claims have been deployed by actors and are thus part of what shapes political orders. REFERENCES

Abbott, Andrew. 1995. Things of Boundaries. Social Research 62 (4): 857-882.

Ahmed, Akbar S. 2005. Letting Go Of The Past. Outlook India. 22 August. http://www.outlookindia.com/fullprint.asp?choice=1 &fodname=20050822&fname=BAkbar +%28F%29&sid=1 (accessed 25 August 2006).

___. 1997a. JINNAH, PAKISTAN, AND ISLAMIC IDENTITY: The Search for Saladin. London and New York: Routledge.

____. 1997b. Mr. Jinnah: The Making of Pakistan. DVD. Produced by Sophie Swire. Directed by Christopher Mitchell. 92 min. Cafe Productions Ltd; City, Country: Astrolabe Pictures, Inc., 2002.

Ahmed, Col. A. 2005. Interview by author, 3 April, Faisalabad, Pakistan. Tape recording.

Akbar, M.J. 2008. Pakistan will have to pay a heavy price - Interview with MJ Akbar. Interview by Sheela Bhatt (2 December). Rediff India Abroad (New Delhi, India). Online newspaper. http://www.rediff.com/news/2008/dec/02mumterror-pakistan-will-have-to-pay-a-heavy­ price.htm (accessed 2 January 2009).

Akhtar, Javed. 2006. Interview by author, 23 February, Mumbai, India. Tape recording.

Ali, K. 1990. A New History of Pakistan Since 1526. Lahore, Pakistan: Publishers Emporium.

Alter, Stephen. 2001. Amritsar to Lahore: A Journey Across the India-Pakistan border. Philadelphia: University of Pennsylvania Press.

Anderson, Benedict. 1991. Imagined Communities: Reflections on the Origin and Spread of Nationalism. Revised Edition. New York: Verso.

Ansari, Sarah. 2005. Life After Partition: Migration, Community, and Strife in Sindh 1947-1962. Karachi, Pakistan: Oxford University Press.

____. 1995. Partition, Migration, and Refugees: Response to the Arrival of Muhajirs in Sind during 1947-48. South Asia 18: 95-108.

Asghar. 2006. Interview by author, 24 February, Mumbai, India. Tape recording.

Ashraf. 2006. Interview by author, 4 March, Ghaziabad, India. Tape recording.

Azad, Abul Kalam. 1940. An Extract from Presidential Address of Abul Kalam Azad - Ramgarh, December 1940. In India's Partition: Process, Strategy, and Mobilization, 59-68. Oxford in India Readings, ed. Mushirul Hasan. New Delhi, India: Oxford University Press, 2001.

277 278

Aziz, K.K. 1993. The Murder of History in Pakistan. Lahore, Pakistan: Vanguard.

Bakhtin, Mikhail. 1988. Speech genres and other late essays. Translated by Vern McGee. Edited by Caryl Emerson and Michael Holquist. Austin, TX: University of Texas Press.

BBC World News. 2008. 26-29 November; 12 December. Television.

Bhabha, Homi. 1994. the location of culture. New York: Routledge.

Bidwai, Praful and Achin Vanaik. 2000. New Nukes: India, Pakistan, and Global Nuclear Disarmament. New York: Olive Branch Press.

Binder, Leonard. 1963. Religion and Politics in Pakistan. Berkeley, CA: University of California Press.

Bolitho, Hector. 1954. Jinnah: Creator of Pakistan. Londqn: John Murray.

Bose, Sugata and Ayesha JalaL 1998. MODERN SOUTH ASIA: History, Culture, Political Economy. London and New York: Routledge.

Brass, Paul R. 1994. The Politics of India Since Independence. 2nd edition. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press.

____. 1985. Ethnic Groups and the State. London: Croom Helm.

____. 1979. Elite Groups, Symbol Manipulations and the Ethnic Identity among the Muslims of South Asia. In Political Identity in South Asia, ed. David Taylor and Malcolm Yapp, 35- 77. London: Curzon Press.

____. 197 4. Language, Religion, and Politics in. North India. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press.

Brennan, Timothy. 1990. The National Longing for Form. In Nation and Narration, ed. Homi Bhabha, 44-70. London: Routledge.

Breuilly, John. 1982. Nationalism and the State. Manchester, UK: Manchester University Press. (

Brubaker, Rogers. 2004. Ethnicity Without Groups. Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press.

____. 1998. Myths and Misconceptions in the Study of Nationalism. In The State of the Nation: Ernest Ge/Iner and the Theory of Nationalism, ed. John Hall, 272-305. Cambridge, UK: Cambridge University Press.

--,.----· 1996. NATIONALISM REFRAMED: Nationhood and the National Question in Europe. New York: Cambridge University Press.

Bunsha, Dionne. 2006. SCARRED: Experiments with Violence in Gujarat. New Delhi, India: Penguin India.

Burke, S.M. 1974. Mainsprings of Indian and Pakistani Foreign Policies. Minneapolis, MN: University of Minnesota Press. 279

Butalia, Urvashi. 2002. A Necessary Journey: A Story of Friendship and Reconciliation. Alternatives 27 (2): 147-164.

___. 2000. THE OTHER SIDE OF SILENCE: Voices from the Partition of India. Durham, NC: Duke University Press.

Bux, Khawaja. 2005. Interview by author, 24 February, Karachi, Pakistan. Tape recording.

Calhoun, Craig. 1997. Nationalism. Minneapolis, MN: University of Minnesota Press.

Chatterjee, Partha. 1993. THE NATION AND ITS FRAGMENTS: Colonial and Postcolonial Histories. In THE Partha Chatterjee OMNIBUS. New Delhi, India: Oxford University Press.

Chester, Lucy P. 2002. The 1947 Partition: Drawing the Inda-Pakistan Boundary. American Diplomacy 7 ( 1): February. http://www.unc.edu/depts/diplomat/archives_roll/2002_01- 03/chester_partition/chester_partition.html. (accessed May 6, 2005).

Chopra, Aditya. 2005. Veer-Zaara. Produced by Yash Chopra and Aditya Chopra. Directed by Yash Chopra. 192 minutes. Yashraj Films USA Inc. DVD.

Chopra, Yash. 2006. Interview by author, 27 February, Mumbai, India. Tape recording.

Collins, Larry and Dominique Lapierre. 1997. Freedom At Midnight: The Epic Drama of India's Struggle for Independence. London: Harper Collins. Original edition, UK: Granada Publishing Limited, 1982.

Dungarpur, Raj Singh. 2006. Interview by author, 24 February, Mumbai, India. Tape recording.

Dutta, J.P. 1997 Border. Produced and directed by J.P. Dutta. 175 minutes. Eros International. DVD.

Eagleton, Terry. 1984. The Function of Criticism. London: Verso.

Embree, Ainslie T. 2005. Who Speaks for India? The Role of Civil Society in Defining Indian Nationalism. In Prospects for Peace in South Asia, Studies of the Asia-Pacific Research Center, eds. Rafiq Dossani and Henry S. Rowen, 141-184. Standford, CA: Stanford University Press.

Emirbayer, Mustafa. 1997. Manifesto for a Relational Sociology. American Journal of Sociology 103 (2): 281-317.

Farah. 2006. Interview by author, 23 February, Aurangabad, .India. Tape recording.

Farheen. 2005. Interview by author, 1 March, New Delhi, India. Tape recording.

Fazila. 2006. Interview by author, 4 February, Wagah Border, Pakistan. Tape recording. 280

Foucault, Michel. 1984. Nietzsche, Genealogy, History. In The Foucault Reader, ed. Paul Rabinow, 76-100. New York: Pantheon Books.

____. 1972. The Archaeology of Knowledge and the Discourse on Language. Translated by A.M. Sheridan Smith. New York: Pantheon Books.

Fox, Richard G. 1996. Communalism and Modernity. In MAKING IND/A1 HINDU: Religion, Community, and the Politics of Democracy in India, ed. David Ludden, 235-249. Delhi, India: Oxford University Press.

Freitag, Sandria B. 1996. Contesting in Public: Colonial Legacies and Contemporary Communalism. In MAKING IND/A HINDU: Religion, Community, and the Politics of Democracy in India, ed. David Ludden, 211-234. Delhi, India: Oxford University Press.

Gaborieau, Marc. 1985. From Al-Beruni to Jinnah: Idiom, ritual, and ideology of the Hindu-Muslim confrontation in South Asia. Anthropology Today 1 (3): 7-13.

Gandhi, Mahatma. 1940. Extracts from the Collected Works of Mahatma Gandhi. In India's Partition: Process, Strategy, and Mobilization, 69-73. Oxford in India Readings, ed. Mushirul Hasan. New Delhi, India: Oxford University Press, 2001.

Ganguly, Sumit. 1986. The Origins of War in South Asia: The Inda-Pakistan Conflicts Since 1947. Boulder, CO: Westview Press.

Garfinkel, Harold. 1967. Studies in Ethnomethodology. Englewood Cliffs, NJ: Prentice-Hall Inc.

Geertz, Clifford. 1963. The Integrative Revolution: Primordial Sentiments and Civil Politics in the New States. In Old Societies and New States: the quest tor modernity in Asia and Africa, ed. Clifford Geertz, 105-157. London: The Free Press of Glencoe.

Gellner, Ernest. 1964. Thought and Change. London: Weidenfeld and Nicolson.

Gerbner, George. 1984. Science or Ritual Dance? A Revisionist View of Television Violence Effects Research. Journal of Communication 34 (3): 164-173.

Ghalib. 2005. Interview by author, 19 August, Karachi, Pakistan. Tape recording.

Gillespie, Marie. 1995. Television, Ethnicity, and Cultural Change. New York: Routledge.

Gilmartin, David. 1998. Partition, Pakistan, and South Asian History: In Search of Narrative. Journal of Asian Studies 57 (4): 1068-1095.

Goswami, Manu. 2004. PRODUCING IND/A: From Colonial Economy to National Space. Chicago: University of Chicago Press.

Guha, Ramachandra. 2007. India After Gandhi: The History of the World's Largest Democracy. New York: Harper Collins.

Gui, Lt-Gen. (Retd.) Hamid. 2005. Interview by author, 18 January, Rawalpindi, Pakistan. Tape recording. 281

Gupta, M.G. 2002. Inner Meaning of Ramayan and Mahabharat (and the Pilgrim's Process). Agra, India: MG Publishers.

Gupta, Sisir. 1966. KASHMIR: A Study in India-Pakistan Relations. London: Asia Publishing House.

____. 1962. Moslems in Indian Politics, 1947-60. India Quarterly: A Journal of International Affairs 18 (4): 355-381 .

Hacking, Ian. 1999. The Social Construction of What? Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press.

Hall, John A. 1993. Nationalisms: Classified and Explained. Daedalus 122: 1-28.

Hall, Stuart. 1980. Encoding/decoding. In Culture, Media, Language: Working Papers in Cultural Studies, 1972-9, Center for Contemporary Cultural Studies, 128-138. London: Hutchinson.

Haq, Farhat. 1995. Rise of MOM in Pakistan: Politics of Ethnic Mobilisation. Asian Survey35 (11 ): 990-1004.

Haqqani, Hussain. 2005. Pakistan: Between Mosque and Military. Washington, DC: Carnegie Endowment for International Peace.

Hasan, Mushirul. 2001. The Muslim Mass Contacts Campaign: Analysis of a Strategy of Political Mobilization. In lndias Partition: Process, Strategy, and Mobilization, 133-159. Oxford in India Readings, ed. Mushirul Hasan. New Delhi, India: Oxford University Press.

____. 1997. Legacy of a Divided Nation: India's Muslims Since Independence. New Delhi, India: Oxford University Press.

H~ssan. 2006. Interview by author, 5 March, Karachi, Pakistan. Tape recording.

Hodson, H.V. 1985, The Great Divide: Britain- India - Pakistan. Karachi, Pakistan: Oxford University Press.

Hoodbhoy, Pervez and A.H. Nayyar. 1985. Rewriting the History of Pakistan. In Islam, Politics, and the State, ed. Asghar Khan, 164-177. London: Zed Press.

Hussain, Rifaat. 2006 The India-Pakistan Peace Process. Defence & Security Analysis 22 (4): 409-419.

Jabbar, Javed. 2006. Interview by author, 20 February, Karachi, Pakistan. Tape recording.

Jackson, Patrick Thaddeus. 2008. Foregrounding Ontology: Dualism, Monism, and IR Theory. Review of International Studies 34 ( 1): 129-153.

____. 2006a. Civilizing the Enemy: German Reconstruction and the Invention of the West. Ann Arbor, Ml: The University of Michigan Press. 282

____. 2006b. Making Sense of Making Sense: Configurational Analysis and the Double Hermeneutic. In Interpretation and Method: Empirical Research Methods and the Interpretive Tum, eds. Dvora Yanow and Peregrine Schwartz-Shea, 264-280. Armonk, NY: M.E. Sharpe.

____. 2002. Rethinking Weber: Towards a Non-Individualist" Sociology of World Politics. International Review of Sociology 12 (3): 439-468.

____. 1999. 'Civilization' on Trial. Millennium -Journal of International Studies 28: 141-153.

Jackson, Patrick Thaddeus and Daniel Nexon. 2001. Whence Causal Mechanisms? A Comment on Legro. Dialogue -10 1 (1 ): 81-102.

Jalal, Ayesha. 2000. Self and Sovereignty: Individual and Community in South Asian Islam Since 1850. London and New York: Routledge.

____. 1995. Conjuring Pakistan: History as Official Imagining. International Journal of Middle East Studies 27: 73-89.

____. 1985. The Sole Spokesman: Jinnah, the Muslim League, and the Demand for Pakistan. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press.

Jinnah, Mohammad Ali. 2000. Quaid-e-Azam Mohammad Ali Jinnah: Speeches and Statements, 1947-48 with an introduction by S.M. Burke. Karachi, Pakistan: Oxford University Press.

____. 1940. An Extract from the Presidential Address of M.A. Jinnah - Lahore, March 1940. In India's Partition: Process, Strategy, and Mobilization, 44-58. Oxford in India Readings, ed. Mushirul Hasan. New Delhi, India: Oxford University Press, 2001.

Jones, Owen Bennett. 2002. Pakistan: Eye of the Storm. New Haven, CT: Yale University Press.

Kakar, Sudhir. 1996 THE COLORS OF VIOLENCE: Cultural Identities, Religion, and Conflict. Chicago: The University of Chicago Press.

Kamran. 2006. Interview by author, 1 March, New Delhi, India. Tape recording.

Kaviraj, Sudipto. 1997. Filth and the Public Sphere: Concepts and Practices about Space in Calcutta. Public Culture 10 (1 ): 83-113.

Khairi, Uma. 1977. Muslims and Indian Nationalism. New Delhi, India: Manohar Book Service.

Khan, Gohar Ayub. 2007. Glimpses into the Corridors of Power. Karachi, Pakistan: Oxford University Press.

Khan, Gui Hassan. 1993. Memoirs of Lt-General Gui Hassan Khan: The Last Commander-in­ Chief of the Pakistan Army. Karachi, Pakistan: Oxford University Press.

Khan, M. Asghar. 2005. We've Learnt NothingFrom History- Pakistan: Politics and Military Power. Karachi, Pakistan: Oxford University Press.

Khan, Muhammad Ayub. 1967. Friends Not Masters: A Political Biography. London: Oxford University Press. 283

Khan, Tahir. 2006. Interview by author, 4 March, New Delhi, India. Tape recording.

Klein, Bradley S. 1994. Strategic Studies and World Order: The Global Politics of Deterrence. New York, NY: Cambridge University Press.

Kondo, Dorinne K. 1990. CRAFTING SELVES: Power, Gender, and Discourses of Identity in a Japanese Workplace. Chicago: University of Chicago Press.

Krishna, Sankaran. 2002. Methodical Worlds: Partition, Secularism, and Communalism in India. Alternatives 27: 193-217.

____. 1992 .. Oppressive Pasts and Desired Futures: Re-Imagining India. Futures 24 (9): 859-866.

Kulkarni, Sudheendra. 2005. Homeland Project. Outlook India. 22 August. http://www.outlookindia.com/fullprint.asp?choice=1 &fodname=20050822&fname=GSudh eendra+%28F%29&sid=1 (accessed 25 August 2006).

Kulsoom. 2005. ilnterview by author, 2 January, Lahore, Pakistan. Tape recording.

Kumar, Amitava. 2005. Husband of a Fanatic. New York, NY: New Press.

Kureishi, Omar. 2000. Once Upon A Time. Lahore, Pakistan: Ferozsons.

Laclau, Ernesto and Chantal Mautte. 2001. Hegemony and Socialist Strategy: Towards a Radical Democratic Politics. 2nd Edition. London, UK and New York, NY: Verso.

Lapid, Yosef. 2001. Introduction - Identities, Borders, Orders: Nudging International Relations Theory in a New Direction. In Identities, Borders, Orders: Rethinking International Relations Theory, Borderlines 18, eds. Mathias Albert, David Jacobson, and Yosef Lapid, 1-20. Minneapolis, MN: University of Minnesota Press.

Lieutenant History. 2005. Interview by author, 13 January, Islamabad, Pakistan. Tape recording.

M. 2006. Interview by author, 24 February, Mumbai, India. Tape recording.

Macaulay, Thomas Babington. 1835. Minute on Indian Education. In Selections from Educational Records, Part I, 1781-1839. 2 February 1835, by the Bureau of Education, Calcutta, India: Superintendent Government Printing, 1920. Reprint. Delhi, India: National Archives of India, 1965: 107-117.

Malik, l.H. 1995. Ethno-Nationalism in Pakistan: A Commentary on Muhajir Qaumi Mahaz (MOM) in Sindh .. South Asia 18 (2): 49-72.

Matinuddin, Lt. Gen. (Retd.) Kamal. 2005. Interview by author, 20 January, Islamabad, Pakistan. Tape recording.

Mattoo, et al. 2007. India and Pakistan: Pathways Ahead. New Delhi, India: K.W. Publishers.

Maududi, Sayyid Abul A'la. 1955. The Process of Islamic Revolution. 2nd edition. Lahore, Pakistan: privately printed. 284

____. 1947: Nationalism and India. Lahore, Pakistan: Maktaba-i-Jamaat-i-lslami.

McLuhan, Marshall. 1964. Understanding Media: The Extensions of Man. New York, Mentor.

Meher. 2006. Interview by author, 8 March, Karachi, Pakistan. Tape recording.

Menon, V. P. 1956. The Story of the Integration of the Indian States. Calcutta, India: Orient Longman.

Metcalf, Barbara D. 1995. Presidential Address: Too Little and Too Much: Reflections on Muslims in the History of India. Journal of Asian Studies 54 (4): 951-967.

Mitha, General A. 0. 2003. Unlikely Beginnings: A Soldier's Life. Karachi, Pakistan: Oxford University Press.

Morley, David. 2000. HOME TERRITORIES: Media, Mobility, and Identity. COMEDIA ed. David Morley. London: Routledge.

Mujeeb, Mohammad. 2001. The Partition of India in Retrospect. In India's Partition: Process, Strategy, and Mobilization, 403-414. Oxford in India Readings, ed. Mushirul Hasan. New Delhi, India: Oxford University Press.

Muppidi, Himadeep. 2004. The Politics of the Global. Borderlines 23. Minneapolis, MN: University of Minnesota Press.

Nandy, Ashis. 2008. Interview with Prof. Ivor Gaber. Podcast. Presented by the Political Studies Association in collaboration with the Politics of South Asia Specialist Group. Newcastle­ upon-Tyne, UK: Political Studies Assocation, May 2008. http://www.psa.ac.uk/images/Ashis%20Nandy%20Podcast.mp3 (accessed October 16, 2008).

____. 2006. TALKING IND/A: Ashis Nandy In Conversation With Ramin Jahanbegloo. New Delhi, India: Oxford University Press.

____. 1997. The Fantastic India-Pakistan Battle. Futures 29 (10): 937-944.

____. 1988. The Intimate Enemy: Loss and Recovery of Self Under Colonialism. In Exiled at Home. Delhi, India: Oxford University Press.

Nasima. 2006. Interview by author, 28 February, Mumbai, India. Tape recording.

Nehru, Jawaharlal. 1946. An Extract from The Discovery of India. In India's Partition: Process, Strategy, and Mobilization, 74-80. Oxford in India Readings, ed. Mushirul Hasan. New Delhi, India: Oxford University Press, 2001.

New York Times. 2009. 13 February.

Nietzsche, Friedrich. 1967. On The Genealogy of Morals. Trans. Walter Kaufmann and R.J. Hollingdale. New York, NY: Random House. 285

Pandey, Gyanendra. 2006. The Construction of Communalism in Colonial Northern India. 2nd edition. New Delhi, India: Oxford University Press.

____. 2002. India and Pakistan, 1947-2002. Economic and Political Weekly, 16 March 2002. 1027-1033.

____. 2001. Remembering Partition: Violence, Nationalism, and History in India. Contemporary South Asia 7. Cambridge, UK: Cambridge University Press.

____. 1999. Can a Muslim Be an Indian? Society for Comparative Study of Society and History 41 (4): 608-629.

____. 1992. In Defense of the Fragment: Writing About Hindu-Muslim Riots in India Today. Representations 37: 27-55

Pasha, Mustapha Kamal. 1992. lslamization, Civil Society, and the Politics of Transition in Pakistan. In Religion and Political Conflict in South Asia, 113-132, ed. Douglas Allen. Westport, CT: Greenwood Press.

Prakash, Gyan. 1999. Another Reason: Science and the Imagination of Modern India. Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press.

Puri, Balraj. 2008. Kashmir: Insurgency and After. New Delhi, India: Orient Longman.

Rabbani, lkram M. and Monawwar Ali Sayyid. 1995. An Introduction to Pakistan Studies. Lahore, Pakistan: The Caravan Book House.

Racine, Jean-Luc. 2002. Pakistan and the 'India Syndrome': Between Kashmir and the Nuclear Predicament. In PAKISTAN: Nationalism without a Nation?, ed. Christophe Jaffrelot, 195- 228. London, UK and New York, NY: Zed Books.

Rahman, Tariq. 2000. 1998. Language-Teaching and World View in Urdu Medium Schools. Research Paper Series. Islamabad, Pakistan: Social Development Policy Institute.

Rajagopal, Arvind. 2001. Politics After Television: Hindu Nationalism and the Reshaping of the Indian Public. London: Cambridge University Press.

____. 1996. Mediating Modernity: Theorizing Reception in a non-Western society. Communication Review 1 (4): 441-469.

____. 1993. The rise of national programming: the case of Indian television. Media, Culture, and Society 15: 91-111.

Rashida. 2004. Interview by author, 20 December, Karachi, Pakistan. Tape recording.

Read, Anthony and David Fisher. 1997. The Proudest Day: India's Long Road to Independence. New York, NY: WW Norton.

Riaz. 2006. Interview by author, 2 March, New Delhi, India. Tape recording.

Ringmar, Erik. 1996. On the Ontological Status of the State. European Journal of International Relations 2 (4): 439-466. 286

Rouse, Shahnaz. 1999. Feminist Representations: Interrogating Religious Difference. Gender and History 10 (3): 549-552.

Roy, Arundhati. 2003. War Talk. Cambridge, MA: South End Press.

____. 1998. The End of Imagination. Frontline 15 (16), August 1-14, 1998: 1-18.

Roy, Beth. 1994 Some Trouble With Cows: Making Sense of Social Conflict. Berkeley, CA: University of California Press.

Rudolph, Lloyd I and Susan Hoeber Rudolph. 2008. Engaging Subjective Knowledge: How Amar Singh's Diary Narratives of and by the Self Explain Identity Formation. Perspectives on Politics 1 (4): 681-694.

Sahni, Jaideep. 2007. Chak De! India. Produced by Aditya Chopra. Directed by Shimit Amin. 152 minutes. Yashraj Films Pvt. Ltd. DVD.

Saima. 2006. Interview by author, 24 February, Thane, India. Tape recording.

Salahuddin. 2006. Interview by author, 3 March, New Delhi, India. Tape recording.

Salmon, Wesley C. 1984. Scientific Explanation and the Causal Structure of the World. Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press.

Sardar. 1992. On serpents, inevitability, and the South Asian imagination. Futures 24 (9): 942- 949.

Sayani, Amin. 2006. Interview by author, 25 February, Mumbai, India. Tape recording.

Sayed, Mushahid Hussain (Senator). 2005. Interview by author, 19 January, Islamabad, Pakistan. Tape recording.

Schimmel, Annemarie. 2004. The Empire of the Great Mughals: History, Art, and Culture. London: Reaktion Books.

Seervai, H.M. 1990. Partition of India: Legend and Reality. Bombay, India: Emmenem Publications.

Shahid. 2005. Interview by author, 12 January, Wagah-Atari, Pakistan-India border crossing. Tape recording.

Shaikh, Farzana. 1989. Community and Consensus in Islam: Muslim Representation in Colonial India, 1860-1947. New York: Cambridge University Press.

Shotter, John. 1993a. CONVERSATIONAL REALITIES: Constructing Life Through Language. London, UK: SAGE Publications. 2000 Reprint.

____. 1993b. Cultural Politics of Everyday Life: Social Constructionism, Rhetoric, and Knowing of the Third Kind. Toronto, Canada: University of Toronto Press. 287

Sibal, Kanwal. 2008. The international community won't help us - Interview with Kanwal Sibal. Interview by Sheela Bhatt (16 December). Rediff India Abroad (New Delhi, India). Online newspaper. http://www. rediff. com/news/2008/dec/16mumterror-the-international- comm un ity-wont-help-htm (accessed 2 January 2009).

Siddiqi, Brigadier 2004. A.A. East Pakistan: The Endgame: An Onlooker's Journal, 1969-1971. Karachi, Pakistan. Oxford University Press.

Sidhwa, Bapsi. 2006. Grief and Survival in Ice-Candy Man: In Conversation With Bapsi Sidhwa. In PARTITION DIALOGUES: memories of a Jost home, ed. Alok Bhalla, 221-240. New Delhi, India: Oxford University Press.

____.1988. Ice-Candy Man. New Delhi, India: Penguin Books India (P) Limited.

Singh, Toba Tek. 2003a. Interview by author, 19 December, Karachi, Pakistan. Tape recording.

____. 2003b. Interview by author, 8 December, Karachi, Pakistan. Tape recording.

____. 2003c. Interview by author, 6 December, Karachi, Pakistan. Tape recording.

Smith, Anthony D. 1991. National Identity. Ethnonationalism in Comparative Perspective. London, UK: University of Nevada Press.

Subrahmanyam, K. 2008. The Mumbai attack is not an India-Pakistan Issue - Interview with K. Subrahmanyam. Interview by Sheela Bhatt (23 December). Rediff India Abroad (New Delhi, India). Online newspaper. http://www.rediff.com/news/2008/dec/23mumterror-k­ subrahmanyam-india-diplomatic-options.htm (accessed 2 January 2009).

Swami, Praveen. 1999. The Kargil War. New Delhi, India: LeftWord Books.

Talbot, Ian. 2000. India and Pakistan. London, UK: Arnold (Hodder He;:idline Group).

____. 1998. Pakistan: A Modern History. London: Palgrave Macmillan.

____. 1996. FREEDOM'S CRY: The Popular Dimension in the Pakistan Movement and Partition Experience in North-West India. Karachi, Pakistan: Oxford University Press.

Tan, Tai Yong and Gyanesh Kudaisya. 2000. The Aftermath of Partition in South Asia. Routledge Studies in the Mode'rn History of Asia. London: Routledge.

TC. 2006. Interview by author, 13 March, Karachi, Pakistan. Tape recording.

Thapar, Romila. 2002. Religion as History and South Asian identities. In The Post-Colonial State and Social Transformation in India and Pakistan, eds. S.M. Naseem and Khalid Nadvi, 283-312. Karachi, Pakistan: Oxford University Press.

Tilly, Charles. 2002. Stories, Identities, and Political Change. New York, NY: Rowman and Littlefield Publishers, Inc.

____.. 1998. Durable Inequality. Berkeley, CA: University of California Press. 288

Torrens-Spence, Johnny. 2006. Historic Battlefields of Pakistan. Karachi, Pakistan: Oxford University Press.

Udayakumar, S.P. 2005. "Presenting" the Past: Anxious History and Ancient Future in Hindutva India. Westport, CT: Praeger Publishers.

____. 2001. Handcuffed to History: Narratives, Pathologies, and Violence in South Asia. Westport, CT: Praeger Publishers.

____. 1997. South Asia: before and after. Futures 29 (10): 919-936. van der Veer, Peter. 1994. Religious Nationalism: Hindus and Muslims in India. Berkeley, CA: University of California Press.

Verkaaik, 0. 1994. A People of Migrants: Ethnicit}', State and Religion in Karachi. Amsterdam: V. U. University Press.

Weber, Max. 1949. 'Objectivity' in Social Science and Social Policy. In Max Weber on the Methodology of the Social Sciences, eds. Edward A. Shils and Henry Finch, 49-112. Glencoe, IL: Free Press.

Wittgenstein, Ludwig. 1953. Philosophical Investigations. 3rd Edition. Trans. G.E.M. Anscombe. Upper Saddle River, NJ: Prentice-Hall.

Wolpert, Stanley. SHAMEFUL FLIGHT: The Last Years of the British Empire in India. New York, NY: Oxford University Press.