Readers – This post is a couple of days overdue. I have been in Jinja, Uganda over the weekend with a group of friends, white water rafting at the source of the River Nile. It was an incredible trip. There are lots of reflections from the trip which I will be blogging about over the next week or so. Jinja is an interesting place. It’s a sleepy mid-sized town, the second largest in Uganda, known as the adventure capital of East Africa. It was once an up and coming industrial hub, strategically located on the Mombasa Kampala Railway line, super charged with abundant hydro-power and the entrepreneurial spirit of second and third generation Indian migrants, whose fathers and grandfathers decided to settle there after building the railway line. Who can blame them? The place is so gorgeous, even I am seriously considering spending the next year there, doing nothing but learning kayaking and white water rafting (and of course blogging more frequently). Over the years demand for electricity outstripped supply. I guess there was no “Economic Hit man” (please read the book: Confessions of an Economic Hit Man) to over extrapolate demand trends. Also, Idi Amin’s expulsion of Indians from Uganda in 1972 (Idi Amin was Uganda’s crazy strong man dictator), which was apparently a commandment from God communicated to him in a dream, took a heavy toll on the town.
This fits in nicely with today’s topic, which is an extremely heavy one, but nevertheless (at least in my opinion) the single most important issue we need to get a handle on, in the first quarter of this century. The issue is religion and violence, and this post is specifically in the context of Pakistan. It is written mostly in an Op-Ed style and also attempts to provide some historical background on Islam in Pakistan, tailored especially to those who might not be very knowledgeable about the topic or even the country (90% of Pakistanis don’t know this stuff, including myself not so long ago, so it’s very educational). It deviates a little bit from my usual style of telling a few personal stories, and providing a few contemporary examples, a style which friends and family might find more entertaining. I will nevertheless try to keep it a structured, flowing, easy and interesting read. I will end this paragraph and start with real content, after a bit of a quick disclaimer. I am not even remotely close to being the expert on this topic. I am well aware that my opinions are highly controversial, but to the extent possible, I will try to position them to offer the utmost respect to anyone and everyone who might be reading.
We can all agree that violence continues to get worse by the day in Pakistan. A lot of it is not fuelled by religion. The target killings in Karachi, Pakistan’s largest city, a melting pot of around 18 million people, from virtually every ethnicity in Pakistan (including 1 to 2 million Afghan refugees), probably claim the highest number of lives. I recently spent 9 months in Karachi, and my estimates are that 50 to 100 people are killed on average every week, and that there are 2 to 3 incidents every day, even though only those involving high profile politicians are usually covered by the media. The gunmen are usually on motorcycles, and manage to escape through traffic almost every time, rendering direct law enforcement completely ineffective. These killings are fueled by ethnic, political and gang rivalries, and a deeply short-sighted inability to get along, or as Obama has famously and very inspirationally said, “by those who cannot build, so they destroy”.
But “religious” violence (as I decide to tag it; my definition is simple – any violence that is carried out in the name of any faith) has become a very serious problem as well. Religion was first twisted as a useful ideological catalyst to create proxies to fight the Soviets in Afghanistan in the 1980s, and was later conveniently channeled to “bleed” the Indians in the 1990s, mostly in the disputed territory of Kashmir, over which India and Pakistan have fought four conventional wars. Religion is also the cause for internal sectarian conflict in Pakistan, mostly between the Shiites, Sunnis, and Ahmedis, and also within the Sunnis, most commonly the Barelvi and Deobandi schools of thought. Post 9/11, it started to unite and provide seemingly never ending fuel to the various belligerents in the war on terror. It is also exacerbating multiple ethnic and tribal insurgencies in various parts of the West and North. Most recently and most worryingly though, it threatens to destroy the Pakistani state, and the fundamentally secular and pluralistic nature of our society. What this monster could evolve into beyond this is scary and unpredictable. Pakistan was once a fairly strong state, so it managed to develop nuclear weapons and advanced delivery systems. If it becomes a failed state, like Somalia or Afghanistan, there is a good chance that petty piracy is not the only fallout the world is going to have to deal with.
The link between religion and violence is complex. My view is that religion is typically not the root cause, and that historical, political, socio-economic and cultural factors are usually the underlying drivers for violence. In particular, it would be wrong (almost blasphemous) to single out Islam as intrinsically the single most violent religion in today’s world, even though it has come to be the only major religion associated with violence. One simple thought experiment is to imagine today’s world without Islam. What constitutes the “Islamic World” today would probably hold the Eastern or Greek Orthodox faith. It’s hard to predict whether this Eastern Orthodox population would be at odds with the “West”, but at least I would put my money behind that hypothesis. This is a real shame, because Islamophobic attitudes in the “West” (expressed e.g. through the cartoons of the Prophet, published in the Danish newspaper, Jylands-Posten), and the backlash they create in the Muslim world (expressed e.g. in a “peaceful” form through Facebook Groups condemning the cartoons; but most often portrayed in the Western media as angry young men in Green turbans shouting anti-American slogans, and burning effigies), are not helping us understand each other. They neither promote a more secular pluralistic society in the Islamic World, nor does the counter reaction help convert the Dutch and Danes in droves to the Islamic faith.
Those who argue for a stronger link between religion and violence, typically cite religion’s ability to hold its followers from thinking critically and independently, and for creating another set of unnecessary differences amongst us (amongst all the other differences e.g. tribe, ethnicity, etc.). It is hard to refute these arguments, except to make the counter-argument that there are many Muslims who hold strong faith, yet they read and critically interpret the scriptures. So the ability to think critically and independently is independent of religion, but I am not entirely convinced, because faith does require, at least to some extent, belief without question or doubt. Also, there is the question of the correlation between piety and violence. Whilst it is true that those who subscribe to violent religious ideology are by definition very pious, there are also some very pious followers of religion, who advocate love, and non-violence. My view is that once one falls into the “piety” funnel (please excuse me for applying consulting techniques here), the lines become blurry and permeable. Many groups form. Some want to attack only one country, and not the others. Some want to attack all countries, including the Pakistani state. And some will have their followers wear scary green turbans, and grow long beards, but will otherwise be completely harmless.
Indeed, I subscribe to the notion, that religious ideology (not religion) is most often simply the banner or final catalyst, and can be channeled for any of these aims, peaceful, spiritual, altruistic or politically violent. It takes just a little bit of faith and just a few sermons from a violent all-out Jihadist to convert a peaceful green turbaned, long-bearded member, for example of the Tableeghi Jamat, a largely peaceful grass roots missionary group, into a hardcore violent jihadist. How does this happen? Richard Dawkins (a controversial character to bring into this post) and Pervez Hoodbhoy, a Pakistani physicist and prominent intellectual might have the answer in “Memes”. Wikipedia defines memes as the following:
“A meme is an idea, behavior or style that spreads from person to person within a culture. While genes transmit biological information, memes are said to transmit ideas and belief information.”
Simply stated memes are the cultural or ideological cousins of genes. We all know that genes are self-propagating, evolve or mutate over time, and actively compete with other genes (often, but not always destructively). The big “so what” here is that we find ourselves in this twisted state, by twist of fate. The meme has taken hold, and is self-propagating, and mutating into more and more dangerous forms. The other big “so what” is that if we want to get out of this rut, we need to create and propagate some memes of our own, those which promote co-operation and non-violence. Indeed, great individuals like Gandhi and Mandela have done exactly this with far reaching consequences. The problem though is that without the zing or zeal of faith, apartheid or colonialism, reaching critical mass or critical speed can be very challenging. It’s not clear whether there is a catalyst to turn non-violent ideas into a movement in Pakistan, especially in our present slow destructive state. What I can do for the rest of this blog though, is to provide a few case examples from the history of the sub-continent, to show how Islamic fundamentalism turned into such a large movement. It did not just happen in the 1980s with the Soviet invasion of Afghanistan as many people believe, but started much before that.
Another caveat: This is not a comprehensive history of Islam in the sub-continent. I have neither studied the history of Islam in the sub-continent, nor have I thoroughly researched the topic. This is indeed a very heavy topic in of itself, and one can devote one’s entire life to scholarship in this area. Most of what I know is through what I have read and what I have heard from others, especially through top speakers in lecture circuits. The rest of this post outlines a concise and simplified set of events, and attempts to show through historical events, how the “Meme” has worked its way into Pakistani society.
Islam was brought into the sub-continent by the Umayyad Caliphate, through Muhammad Bin Qasim, a Syrian general in the 8th century. A few wars took place, and he made inroads all the way into Multan, some 750 kilometers inland. This sparked trade with the Arab world and significant cultural exchange. Conversions amongst the local population ensued. The early Muslims in the sub-continent were not far from controversy, accused of replacing the existing systems of religious codes and ethics, by force. Later on in the 11th century, Mahmud of Ghazni (a town in modern day Afghanistan), and Muhammad Ghauri (also from a town in modern day Afghanistan), launched a serious of expeditions one after the other, making significant inroads into the heart of the Indian sub-continent. Both of Pakistan’s main ballistic missile systems are provocatively named “Ghaznavi” and “Ghauri” after these gentlemen. This not only angers the Indians, who tend to view these as dark chapters in their history, but also the Afghans, who have of course created personality cults around them, and see them as their own heroes. They are accused of looting and destroying temples, and imposed the “Dhimma” contract on non-Muslim subjects, effectively subjugating them to second class citizenship under Shariah Law.
Upon Ghauri’s death the Delhi Sultanate was formed, followed by the Mughal Empire. The Mughal emperors came from Central Asia in the North West, and ruled almost all of the Indian sub-continent, as it is known in the present day. The peak of the Mughal Empire was a period of renaissance especially for Muslims, where much cultural and economic progress took place. The Mughals created such splendid monuments as the Taj Mahal, and made innovations in cuisine, creating some of the Indian dishes which we continue to enjoy to this day (think Kulfi, Mughlai Chicken, Seekh Kebabs and Shami Kebabs). Akbar the Great, a Mughal Emperor who ruled for half a century, was a hard-core secular liberal, inspired by Sufi mysticism, which was now being practiced all over the sub-continent. He tried to form a new religion called “Din-i-Ilahi”, literally translated to “The Divine Truth”. It did not take off as a religion, due to deeply entrenched religious views, especially in the Muslim and Hindu orthodoxy, but functioned as a very powerful think tank, promoting healthy debate between practitioners of different religions, and helping find common philosophical ground across them.
Sufism was spreading quickly through the sub-continent over this period. It is similar to Buddhist or Hindu mystics and Christian hermits or monks, the esoteric dimension of religion, stressing self-discipline and self-devotion, a backlash against the materialistic and political concerns of the new “Islamic Empire”, which ruled for several hundred years after the Umayyads. The Sufis largely advocate love, peace and tolerance, and ask their followers to seek God within oneself. But, to practice Sufism one must find a “teacher” or “master”, with a full line of succession all the way to the Prophet. Pakistan’s current Prime Minister is one of these “masters” or “Pirs”, from Multan, the Sufi capital of Pakistan. It is no wonder that he keeps getting elected from this constituency, in spite of questionable competence or integrity. The Sufis believe that one can only learn from another person, who must learn from yet another person. This makes education and spiritual healing an exclusive club on the supply side, one which can only be offered by a select few, and which has become a highly lucrative business. Some people argue that the failure of education in Pakistan is rooted in this practice. As one somewhat cynical speaker, whose lecture I attended put it: “It’s not a failure of policy that we are not able to provide education; rather it is the policy.”
Then British Colonialism arrived, and Muslims were sidelined in the new British India, for being associated with or suspected of having ties with the previous Mughal regime, where they were a disproportionately powerful minority. Under threat and in a bit of a crisis, a number of Islamic reformist movements were started in the British Sub-Continent, the most notable of which are the Deobandi and the Barelvi movements, founded in 1866 and 1880 respectively. The Deobandi movement, founded in Deoband, present day India, is part of Sunni Islam, but closer on the spectrum to the Wahabis in Saudi Arabia, with their strict interpretation of Islamic Law. The Barelvis, on the other hand, were founded by an individual called Barelvi, and were closer to the Sufis, defending the status quo. The Deobandis rejected the Sufi tradition of having “teachers” or “masters”. They (the Deobandis) were initially declared apostates by the Sufis or Barelvis, who were more numerous or had a more popular following, and who were trying to defend their lucrative supply of teaching and spiritual services. The Deobandis had a point though. One can learn about religion through educating oneself and independently reading and critically interpreting the scriptures, and does not require “teachers” or “masters”. But this started the meme of accusing just about anyone and everyone in the sub-continent if being a “Kafir”, an apostate, or infidel, a tradition which holds to this day, and which is a major reason for much of the sectarian violence in the country. We have become so interested in other peoples’ business, particularly judging their faith, that we have lost the ability to properly understand our own. Realizing that their very existence was under threat for being declared apostates, the Deobandi’s quickly took a softer line, and the Barelvi’s allowed them to thrive.
Since the Deobandi version of Islam is stronger, it forms much of the foundation of today’s violent Islamic extremists, especially in Pakistan. It’s following continues to grow strongly, fueled in large part by the well-known “madrassas” or religious seminaries, which provide free good quality education, a strong pull, especially for poor and lower middle class urban families. I was watching a documentary on the state of education in Pakistan recently, where the head of a madrassa was boasting about marble flooring and air-conditioning, as the facilities provided in his madrassa, whereas the local government school does not even have desks and chairs (Note: The Barelvis are also starting to get politically charged and violent – The Sunni Tehreek, primarily based in Karachi, is a Barelvi political movement, founded very recently in 1990, and has been associated with violence. Their Graffiti or wall chalking is all over the city of Karachi, and some of the slogans are very scary. The new dangerous memes are taking hold, and replacing the old Sufi ones).
As the Deobandis grew, both the Barelvis and Deobandis ganged up on the Ahmedis, a group declared apostates in Pakistan, and that too officially by the state. It’s a large movement, and Pakistan is said to house over 4 million of its followers. The Ahmedis are followers of Mirza Ghulam Ahmad, who claims to be the Messiah promised to the Muslims, a claim which the other sects staunchly reject. In order to get a passport in Pakistan today, one has to sign a declaration rejecting Mirza Ghulam Ahmed as an apostate. It is a shocking thing to do, which I have personally had to do on three occasions, because without doing it, I wouldn’t be able to obtain a passport. One of my friends is an Ahmedi by birth (but a secular agnostic now), and one of the smartest, and most inspirational people I know. The common perception in Pakistan is that the Ahmedis had it worst under General Zia-ul-Haq, Pakistan’s military dictator in the 1980s, who was a staunch Deobandi, and a great friend and ally of the United States. He is the one who helped the United States seed the mujahideen to fight as proxies against the Soviets in Afghanistan. A lesser known fact, however, is that the first acts of violence against the Ahmedis were the Lahore riots of 1953, just 6 years after the formation of Pakistan, where the military had to be called in to restore order. It was in fact Zulfiqar Ali Bhutto’s democratic government which officially declared the Ahmedis as apostates and non-Muslims through an act of parliament in 1974. It has of course been downhill since. The persecution against Ahmedis is so bad now, that Pakistan’s star nuclear physicist, Dr. Abdus Salam, who was awarded the Nobel Prize in Physics, the only Pakistani to this day to have been awarded the noble prize, had the word “Muslim” erased from his gravestone for being an Ahmedi. It is so bad, that some of my own relatives will discuss Ahmedis in our living rooms as if they were infidels, destined to spend eternity in hell.
My Ahmedi or rather secular agnostic friend argues that contrary to popular perception, religious extremism in Pakistan is fait accompli, and not something that was entirely engineered under the military dictatorship of General Zia-ul-Haq in the 1980s. I agree with him, but also subscribe to the notion that Zia-ul-Haq really helped accelerate the downfall. What happened since is well known. The Soviets came and left. India got a piece of the action, and more recently Pakistan itself is under siege. Also, another school of thought is that the partition from India made us loose our sense of pluralism, and thus created this monstrous “meme”. The idea is simple. As long as we were exposed to other religious practices, especially those which are fundamentally different to our own, as would be the case today in a United India, with just 30% Muslims (versus 98% in Pakistan), we would have continued to think and question. This is indeed what made home grown philosophers and poets like Bulleh Shah, Mirza Ghalib and Allama Iqbal, from the 17th, 18th & 19th centuries respectively, who had such great exposure to other faiths in British India, such great intellectuals, with religion and spirituality forming a key part of their work. The moment the fundamentals came “out of question” simply through lack of counter exposure (98% Muslims in Pakistan), serious fundamentalism took hold. This might be partly true. But who knows what would have gone down if we were part of a United India to this day. One scenario is that we might have continued to live in intolerant religious silos, sparking significant religious conflict within a United India, which might have been worse than the existing conflict across India and Pakistan.
Finally, and as my last argument for the “meme” hypothesis, I need to refute the pure socio-economic root cause argument, which is often misunderstood as the main solution to the problem. Tom Friedman, the New York time columnist, was searching for answers after 9/11, especially after all the terror incidents in Europe carried out by “home grown” terrorists. He concluded that the root cause was not a “poverty of wealth” but rather a “poverty of dignity”. Indeed, most of the home grown belligerents in the war on terror in the West have been middle-class individuals. This is also true in Pakistan, where rock stars and top cricketers have become members of the Tableeghi Jamat, the grass roots missionary off-shoot of the Deobandi movement. They claim to be staunchly peaceful, but as I wrote earlier, the lines are blurry and permeable. One of these individuals, Junaid Jamshed, wrote such classic songs as “Dil Dil Pakistan” (a highly popular and catchy patriotic song), and “Ye sham” (a highly romantic song which I will be singing to all the lucky ladies I will be marrying – I believe in polygamy, not divorce). Another individual is a top Pakistani cricket batsman, who went straight from Christianity to the Deobandi school, changing his name from Yousaf Youahana to Mohammad Yusuf. Exhibit A, below is a before and after snapshot of both individuals. I will go one step further than Tom Friedman in my hypothesis. These individuals were neither lacking wealth, nor dignity. Junaid Jamshed has at least ten No. 1 hit singles, and Yusuf Youhana has raked up thousands and thousands of runs in all forms of cricket. They were simply human beings seeking meaning, and the Deobandi “meme” came and took root, providing them with what they were yearning for. What can we do now besides respecting their decision, and continuing to admire their work?
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