Why has this Muslim woman, who most of you believe to be ignorant, oppressed and unimportant, been forced to break her natural silence and her cultural reserve. What can she possibly have to say that is different from all that has been said and by the most able of them – They have said it all. The answer is very simple. Because of these very able people you are being convinced to make judgments that are threatening the lives of my children. According to the latest report of Amnesty International, the war on terrorism has set precedence for others like India, to justify its action. So now is the time for all to speak out – so we may find the truth together.
It is true that 9/11 saw the beginning of a new world order, one in which much soul searching was required in order to understand what the world expects from us now. Personally, I had to delve deep in the past so I could comprehend how a young and once promising country, my Pakistan, found itself facing conflict and ultimate disaster.
Pakistan was created to realize a dream. A dream of freedom and justice and peace, to live according to the ideals of Islam. This was to be a society in which education and health would be top priorities.
My own grand mother began a small school for the less privileged children, in her house right after our independence in 1947. My mother recalls that she and her sisters were responsible for making sure each and every student was given a glass of milk and supplementary vitamins. This was the beginning of APWA College for Women.
My grand mother was not unique, she was one of the many .The dream of a pure Muslim land was passed on to my parent’s generation. These people lived clean, honest and simple lives. They too gave their best, struggling to overcome the inevitable problems of a society in transition with Unity, Faith and Discipline, the vision of our founding fathers,
Today, there are many like me who cannot let go of the dream they have inherited, many who continue to hope as a nuclear catastrophe threatens to extinguish all that is of value, many whose voices are ignored as media propaganda turns each and everyone into a fanatic and a terrorist.
I was only 11 years old when I heard that the Soviet Union had invaded Afghanistan. I understood very little of what I heard, but it was enough to make me have regular nightmares based on Holly wood images of the KGB. My mother was being held captive by men in uniform, as I raged and screamed for help, but in vain, and I would wake up sobbing but tell no one.
At the time Pan- Islamism and Jihad were justified by the world as a freedom struggle against oppression. It also served the American purpose - It had found its army. So the Madraasah culture, which is actually the Islamic version of an orphanage, was propagated to create young freedom fighters that later wore the masks of the Taliban. It did not matter to the west what interpretation was given to the religious schooling as long as it convinced them to fight the enemy. As for us, living uneasily on the edge of conflict, I guess, we all were too insecure to really question what was happening. And the war was won but only after a decade of suffering for the millions of afghan people.
There was a general sense of relief when it was all over. But it did not last long. Some one had to clear up the mess and who better than the neighbors next door. So wave upon wave of homeless refugees poured into our country, seeking help that we could ill afford. We could not evade our responsibility as Muslim brothers. Unfortunately there was a price to pay for compassion. Our young economy, our culture, our people, our image all paid this price. Had the world come to our help at the time, the troubles in Afghanistan could have been solved earlier, bringing relief to the 4 million Afghan men, women and children, that we sheltered and fed.
And it was not easy.
The refugees put immense strain on an economy, which was already reeling from huge defense expenditure against the age-old India threat. Education and health were the first casualties. The Afghan demand for Food, shelter and security overrode all other concerns. Slums mushroomed everywhere and suddenly a new minority emerged, as beggars on our roads and, shopkeepers in our markets and hawkers everywhere. Where we had been used to open and fairly clean spaces now, waste and pollution stifled our surroundings.
The ripples from the Afghan war continued to spread into a frightening tidal wave that threatened to engulf our society. When I was young, the only guns I saw were toy guns that were sold in shops. My children have grown up with real ones. The sight of the Klashinkov, memento of the so-called victory still evokes disturbing images of ruthless killers, who effectively disrupted an innocent and young country.
And now a new foe emerged – a foe more deadly than any that had gone before. The opium cultivation that had begun to help fund the war continued to finance the power struggle in Afghanistan. It was a lucrative trade where supply in the east met demand in the west. Pakistan was used as the gateway and now the scum began to rise to the surface. The dream was ending.
The land of the pure became the land of greed and corruption. A new class emerged – upstarts with little education and lots of money. Gone were the outstanding men who willingly sacrificed their lives for a vision. Politics was no longer about serving your country; it became a short cut to earning big bucks. Our institutions began to weaken and the builders of society, people of education and integrity became increasingly frustrated. Thus began the brain drain – our greatest tragedy.
Lets be realistic now. Every society has its share of saints and sinners, and there are still enough good people in Pakistan.
23 years later, the war is still on next doors. Except that the script has altered considerably. The allies are now enemies and enemies, friends. And most ironically, my own daughter is the same age as I was when it all started.
The Media still continues to fashion the global opinion against us, causing great despair to our youth. I had a chance to observe the journalists closely when they invaded our cities post 9/11. What I saw convinced me that they saw nothing beyond the sensational stereotypes to sustain interest in their particular viewpoint. Thanks to such images most people imagine that the average Pakistani man has a beard, a Klashnikov on the side and by profession is a soldier or a spy. And the women are invisible. Yet, one British woman challenged the popular versions by her eyewitness accounts and understanding of the Afghan’s through long association. I speak of Maureen lines, a writer cum photographer. In the Immortal words of Harper lee in “ To kill a Mocking Bird,” You never really know a man until you stand in his shoes and walk around in them”
So to understand us you have to understand our problems. Now history repeated itself but irony of ironies, we were cast for the former role of the Afghans. Pakistan emerged as the frontline state in the present war to the resentment of our neighbors. 9/11 gave them the perfect excuse to cast the freedom fighters of Kashmir in the role of terrorists. For me the issue of Kashmir is not about land and power. It is about real nightmares, the loss of all hope. I would like you to hear the words of a Kashmiri woman who had fled to safety of the Ambore Refugee Camp, across the border into Pakistan,” Our village is surrounded by the Indian army in a big number. They are much more than us. My husband left to join the resistance movement and is fighting for our freedom. When these men saw me working alone in the fields for a couple of days, they came to my house and demanded to know where my husband had gone. I could not tell them, so they started to beat me. Then they set fire to my house and said that if I did not tell them, they would burn my children. I had determined not to say anything even if they raped me but when they talked of burning my children, I weakened. My two young sons were standing next to me but my three year old daughter was in the midst of the soldiers. I could not have attracted her attention without alerting them. I had no choice. If I stayed, they would have killed us all. I fled with my sons till I reached safety.” Can we ever begin to understand the horror this woman lives with?
Nobody cares to hear these voices as the powerful seek to prove their might. We watched in stunned disbelief as ambassadors of Peace come to our region and began to sign arms deals. A new kind of war games began. The people of Pakistan jaded and cynical after decades of betrayal and disillusionment shrugged their shoulders and said this had to be. Like a bad dream once seen and never forgotten, the images of war came to haunt us. The embassies were shut down, but strangely immigration of highly skilled professionals was open. What did this imply? The spoils of war?
My husband learnt that his European colleagues were being evacuated and he was given a choice. In my weaker moments, I had sometimes toyed with the idea of applying for immigration always for the sake of my children. Now that the moment had come, I realized that I had no option. I could not run away to live and leave others, who were helpless to stay and die. Ironically, the same thoughts come echoing from across the border. As Arundhatti Roy, an Indian writer, expresses the dilemma: “If I go away, and everything and everyone – every friend, every tree, every home, every dog, squirrel and bird that I know and loved – is incinerated, how shall I live on? Who shall I love? And who shall love me back?” It makes one wonder who really wants to fight this war, for the civilians on both sides, are definitely not the victors.
I had made my choice but after all it was my children who had to live with my choice. As I set to work making relief packages for the family, I decided it was time to talk to the children. My children listened with anxiety. It made me realize they knew much more than I had thought. Thanks to CNN my five year old had seen images unfit for his tender eyes. This war on terrorism, had invaded our family rooms. I didn’t know what to say to them? What was the best and what was the worst that could happen? The nuclear death or the suffering and pain that followed if one survived. In my heart, I fervently prayed that if death was to come to us then let it be instant. Was this to be my ambition for my children?
For their sake I had to try? I could not let us all suffer in Silence. Some of us got together and called an emergency meeting. Many more turned up as the world spread like fire. And as a starting point, we staged a Peace Stand outside the U.N headquarters in Islamabad.
I don’t understand this war any more. Why are Muslims being targeted all over the world and what have the Central Asian Gas Reserves got to do with it. The only thing I understand is that as the sole super power, America has immense responsibility to set the right precedence. And since its decisions are based to serve the interests of its people, you all have to take responsibility for its actions.
Nobody can justify such planned killings as those last September and no religion can sanctify such an action. But neither should the world justify the cold-blooded terrorism that killed 23,000 innocent people at the Sabra and Shatila refugee camps or the Genocide in Bosnia and Kosovo, and the very recent Gujarat Carnage in India. Did we do enough to avenge them? The truth is that fanaticism and terrorism are not restricted to a particular religion or region. It is not a Muslim problem. It is also the Christian problem and the Jewish problem and the Hindu problem. It is a problem of the human nature. Problems that are resolved by the basis of all faiths: Peace, Tolerance, Humility, Moderation, Justice, and Liberty. These also determine the fundamentals of Islam. And ironically, this struggle against evil is what Jihad is all about. As I understand it is also what the American constitution is all about.
The truth is that “We hate that which we do not know”. The message, since the beginning has been the same by the same Allah, no matter what we choose to call him. The tragedy has been that man has been unable to understand the miracle of his own creation and hence its purpose.
A Zimbabwean once said that it is the variety in life that makes it so alluring, so sit back and enjoy - a different version of the same universal experience. Do not condemn if you do not understand for this is our way of expression and makes us happy.
Remember the American dream is not confined to this continent alone, it is the dream of individuals across the globe. We all need to dream and we all need to cling to hope and when you target or worse bombard a people you take away that right and when they cannot dream and when they cannot hope they lash out in anger and ignorance.
So what is the solution?
The answer now lies in forming a global pressure group of tolerant people from all walks of life and all countries who will convince their leaders to adhere to policies of Peace and Justice. It lies in searching for the roots of terrorism, borne out of desperation and frustration that have been fed by injustices – of dealing with the causes rather than forcibly oppressing the symptoms.
In the words of Zayed Yasin, the young Harvard graduate, I hope and pray that for the sake of our children, our grand children, and those who will take our seats in years to come, that we will be the change we seek in this world. If you remain unconcerned then this war of civilizations will never cease. This war between the have and the have knots, which will wipe us out one by one.
The world is starved of role models as they seek one who can give them hope. This priority has to redefine United Nations role in these changed times. It is up to you to decide whether you are going to pass on this fragmented world to your children where dreams turn into nightmares or will you illuminate the darkness of hatred due to ignorance with the beacon of hope and knowledge. - The choice is yours.
