Pakistan's Fate Hangs on Three M
April 5, 1998. Sunday. We had an extra guest at the residence of Nadera Ahmed last night. He is Sindhi activist Dr. Saif Ullah Nizamani. He came all the way up from the state of Massachusetts to attend the symposium for late Feroz Ahmed. Dr. Nizamani was a student
activist in Sind while Feroz Ahmed was in Pakistan publishing his brainchild Pakistan Forum' in Urdu.
Dr. Nizamani has strong feelings about his Sindhi heritage. While having breakfast in the morning, Dr. Nizamani was discussing with me the origin of Sindhi language. Professor Hassan Gardezi was intently listening to our discussion. Before long I realized that we were
talking some serious linguistics; the subject matter was the languages of Sindh and the neighboring areas. Day before yesterday Mr. Munawar Laghari, another Sindhi activist, mentioned to me that perhaps the national language of Pakistan should have been Siraiki. Dr. Nizamani also mentioned to me this morning that Siraiki is a very important language of both Sindh and adjoining Punjab. I learned that Siraiki is widely spoken in parts of Punjab, near Multan, and in Sindh too. Siraiki language has its own alphabet, a variation of Farsi alphabet, and its own literature. The people who speak Siraiki are appropriately called Siraikis. According to a census taken by Pakistani government in 1981, about 9.8% people of Pakistan consider themselves Siraikis, while 7.6% people of Pakistan consider themselves Urdu- peaking.
While we talked about Siraiki language, Dr. Nizamani also gave me a demonstration of Sindhi village poetry. I learned from him that Sindh has a great oral tradition in poetry. There is a beautiful rhythm to the indigenous poetry of rural Sindh. The language is definitely related to Sanskrit because I was able to recognize some words here and there. Like so many regional north Indian languages of India, Sindhi may also have developed from Prakrit. I was delighted to hear that Dr. Nizamani and his wife still speak Sindhi to their children at home.
While discussing the languages spoken in Sindh, I asked, "Tell me please, did the influx of Muhajers in Karachi and other big towns in Sind contributed to the decline in usage of Sindhi?"
"Oh, definitely, yes!" Someone at the kitchen table answered begrudgingly.
I said, "Since language is the vehicle of culture - is it okay to say that Sindhi culture took a low from the influx of refugees from India?" I intentionally used the word refugees because to me all the immigrants are in reality refugees. My family also repatriated from Shillong, the capital of present-day northeastern state of India the Meghalaya, in 1947. As such, we considered ourselves to be the refugees. Contrary to the popular belief in out subcontinent refugee isn't a derogatory term at all.
"There is no Sindhi culture in Karachi or in any other big cities in Sindh. It's all dominated by the imported culture of Muhajirs," blurted another person standing nearby.
On the first day of my arrival to Silver Spring, Maryland, Mrs. Nadera Ahmed handed me an article written by late Prof. Feroz Ahmed. This article entitled "Pakistan: Ethnic ragmentation or National Integration?" (The Pakistan Development Review, Volume 35, pp. 631-645, 1996) is a must read article for anyone interested knowing what had happened to Sindh, in particular, due to ethnic polarization in urban areas. Reading this article I learned that civil society in Karachi is in the brink of decimation. Get this: "In 1995 alone, more than 1700 persons, including more than 200 law enforcement personnel, were killed in its major city Karachi," wrote Feroz Ahmed in that article. Feroz Ahmed also added, "A militant ethnic party in
Sindh is in violent confrontation with the government and other ethnic groups."
The party Prof. Feroz Ahmed alluded in his article is none other than MQM. I don't know much about this city-based party, excepting what I heard about them from BBC report, or occasionally reading article about them in New York Times. Like most other political
parties or factions in Pakistan, which tended to be militant, this MQM is also a fanatical ethnic party. Its magnetic leader, Mr. Altaf Hussain, is now self exiled in England. Some people argued that this violent leader is very much under the protection of British government. The truth will never be known for sure. In the initial days, the party organizers called this party Muhajir Qaumi Movement (MQM). But later the militant Urdu-Wallas changed the name to
"Muttaheda Qaumi Mahaj," keeping the acronym MQM while making the name more Urdu, their preferred vernacular. Like the party itself, its leader, Mr. Altaf Hussain, also had a checkered past. I was told by knowledgeable people that Altaf Hussain's family came originally from Agra, India. Mr. Altaf Hussain is distantly related to Nadera Ahmed's
brother-in-law Mr. Hamid Khan. Mr. Khan was a high official in Searle, a Pharmaceutical Company. Out of sympathy he found a job for Altaf Hussain in Searle. But Mr. Altaf Hussain was later fired from his job in Searle. This story was also confirmed by Mr. Hyderi Karar, the
Manager of Searle. After this stint with the pharmaceutical giant Searle, Mr. Altaf Hussain joined the Muhajir Qaumi Movement to change the political landscape of Karachi. How little did he know then the impact of his leadership among Muhajirs?
To enliven the discussion I quipped, "It takes only one person to screw things up. Hitler single-handedly did it for the entire Europe and Stalin took a good care of his own people! Now Mr. Altaf Hussain is doing the job for all the Karachi-Wallas." "We thought the MQM movement would die down -- now that Altaf Hussain is in England. But how wrong we are!" I heard the comment coming from another person in the dining room.I learned that the MQM leader in exile routinely delivers his speech live from England via the marvel of science, i.e., direct telephone line. The MQM party members and sympathizers routinely attend these speech sessions. Mr. Altaf Hussain's impromptu lecture is also attended by Muhajir intellectuals in Karachi. In one such telephonic lecture session in January 1997, the acting Vice Chancellor of Karachi University, Mr. Kasim, was reported to seat in the front
row listening intently to what the supreme leader of MQM had to say that day.
"What is the ultimate goal of MQM party?" I asked. "This recalcitrant bunch wants more visibility, more power, and special identity," said one disgruntle Sindhi intellectual.
"But aren't they destroying everything they have built thus far?" I questioned.
"They never did build anything in Sindh. They are bent on destroying everything, our culture, our way of life. Political violence is their passion. The thing we call ethnicity is going to
destroy Pakistan eventually. The writings are on the wall." Another expatriate Pakistani quipped.
Describing the "law" and "order" situation in Karachi Mrs. Nadera Ahmed said, "There are these NOGO zones scattered all over the Karachi city. It is rather dangerous to venture into these NOGO zones. The two factions of MQM are now fighting a deadly war there. You don't want to be anywhere closer to those NOGO zones." No one in Karachi knows when these imbroglios are going to be over. Even the Muhajirs have any clue as to when this sub-sectarian feud in Karachi will end.
"Will it end anytime soon?" I asked.
"The itinerant MQM leader Mr. Altaf Hussain is probably calling the shots from the comfort of his temporary abode in England. While he is safe from the danger, his followers have waged a full-scale war among themselves. It's a shame that Karachi is paying the price for housing all these Muhajirs and their descendants," said one Sindhi intellectuals. I thought we Bengalis are very lucky indeed! No one is destroying our culture, our language, and our tradition. The Sindhi people unfortunately can't say that. While they watch silently in their own homeland, their culture is taking a big blow every single day. Urdu is encroaching ever so slowly into their everyday lives that they are petrified. Sindhi people have every reason to be uptight about the cultural invasion brought to their land by the Urdu-Wallahs of United Province and Bihari people of Northeast India. The number of Muhajirs coming to Karachi was so vast that the local Sindhi people could do anything about this Urdu invasion. The Sindhis are paying a heavy price for their simplicity and naiveté. Under the backdrop of sectarian violence, cultural domination and subjugation, the most important question one can ask about Sindh is the following: what is the future of Sindh under the present state of Pakistan?
It seems rather unfair that while other provinces of Pakistan are still maintaining their cultural identity, and heritage, the Sindh is struggling to main whatever Sindhiness is still left in her
people. When I met all these Sindhi intellectuals in Washington DC in April 1998, one thing was quite apparent - they were internally disturbed. If I were a Sindhi, I would have been devastated knowing the downhill journey of a rich culture whose progenitor was none other
than people of Mohenjo-daro.
How then to preserve Sindhi culture in Sindh today? That is the burning question of the day.
