Pakistan: Islam’s Fault

UPDATE: oops! forgot the link.

I just read a pretty interesting article in the National Geographic that takes a look at Islam in Pakistan and its relationship to both fundamentalist Islam and violent Islamists, entitled “Struggle for the Soul of Pakistan”. I have always, since my insect-observing science-obsessed nerdy childhood had a certain affection for NG and continue to consider it one of the best magazines, full stop. I suppose in nature you dont need to worry about the author’s slant so much.

Which is why I got so excited about their covering Islam in Pakistan just when the world (or the policy shapers, at least) is finally taking notice of the fuck-up that is Pakistan. (It is becoming increasingly difficult to ignore.) And I feel like I wasnt disappointed. Some excerpts:

This is also where two conflicting forms of Islam meet: the relatively relaxed and tolerant Islam of India, versus the rigid fundamentalism of the Afghan frontier. Beneath the surface of Pakistan, these opposing forces grind against each other like two vast geologic plates, rattling teacups from Lahore to London, Karachi to New York. The clash between moderates and extremists in Pakistan today reflects this rift, and can be seen as a microcosm for a larger struggle among Muslims everywhere. So when the earth trembles in Pakistan, the world pays attention.

It’s a little flowery. And the moderates/extremists polarity rings alarm bells in my head. But looking beyond the recent usurpation of the words, for someone who knows so little about south asia, the contrast of the schools of Islam is quite interesting and goes towards explaining a lot.

Founding

From the start, the founders of Pakistan intended their nation to be a refuge for Muslims, not an Islamic state. Pakistan was created when India, a British colony for nearly a hundred years, gained its independence and was partitioned into two countries along a hastily drawn border. Pakistan’s first leader, Mohammed Ali Jinnah, and his brain trust of secular intellectuals created a fledgling democracy that gave Islam a cultural, rather than political, role in national life. Their Pakistan was to be a model of how Islam, merged with democratic ideals, could embrace the modern world. “Muslims would cease to be Muslims, not in the religious sense,” Jinnah said in his inaugural address, but “as citizens of the state.”

Sixty years later, having been educated in schools that teach mainly the Koran, the young women in the library are stunned when I mention Jinnah’s secular vision for Pakistan. “That is a lie,” Ayman says, her voice shaking with fury.

Islamization

More than anyone, it was General Muhammad Zia-ul-Haq who created Pakistan’s current generation of Islamic radicals, and the climate in which they thrive. A Punjabi general with a pencil-thin mustache and raccoon circles under his eyes, Zia seized power in a coup in 1977, had the democratically elected prime minister tried and hanged, and promptly pressed for the Islamization of Pakistan, calling for more religion in the classroom and the use of punishments such as flogging and amputations for crimes against Islam. To Zia, Pakistan’s secular founders, with their emphasis on Muslim culture, had it exactly backward. “We were created on the basis of Islam,” Zia said, and he set out to remake democratic Pakistan as a strict Islamic state—despite the fact that a large majority of Pakistanis were, and remain, moderates.

Whether by temperament or tradition, most Pakistani Muslims are more comfortable with the mystical and ecstatic rituals of Barelvi Islam, a colorful blend of Indian Islamic practice and Sufism. For a Punjabi farmer whose crop has just come in, it has always been more satisfying to hang out at a Sufi shrine listening to qawwali music and watching dervishes whirl than reciting the Koran in a fundamentalist mosque. Most Pakistanis, though powerless to resist, were lukewarm to Zia’s Islamization program, as was much of the outside world.

Naturally, what comes next is the Soviet invasion of Afghanistan and consequent aligning of CIA’s interests with those of Zia. And then, as we all know, by the 80s the madrassas were swelling with the “Zia Generation”. Coupled with the autonomy of tribal mountain regions, the rest is history.

But what of now?

In modern Pakistan, that’s ["I'm a Muslim," says Edhi, "but my true religion is human rights."] an increasingly lonely position. There are many thousands of dedicated doctors, lawyers, teachers, social workers, and humanitarians—including some in government—who, like Edhi, are working to move their country forward, but the space in which they operate is shrinking. Recently, at Musharraf’s bidding, parliament passed a bill to restrict the activities of NGOs and human rights groups. Even as he promotes “enlightened moderation,” Musharraf accuses such groups of humiliating Pakistan by publicizing abuses, and declares them a threat to the national interest.

Such rhetoric only emboldens the Islamists, whose influence is growing across Pakistan.

Sounds familiar. And so does:

He explains what emboldens these young women to risk their lives for Islam: “This government has lost all credibility,” he says. “People look at Musharraf and they see a U.S. puppet who’s willing to declare war on fellow Muslims to satisfy America. They also see his generals getting rich, while they’re getting poorer every day. People are losing hope. Pakistan and its government are becoming two different things. This will have to change, and soon.”

So familiar, in fact, that all you have to do is change a few letters and it sounds like home.