Something new

About a year and a half ago I started writing a novel. When I will finish writing a novel is a whole other question. Might be a good time to start a pool. 

I feel quite nervous putting something so deeply personal out here in cyberspace, but if I ever actually want to publish fiction I guess that means I have to let people read it. Thoughts and comments are more than welcome. 

So here is an excerpt from the very first chapter ... here it goes ... and I will muster up the courage to paste the contents of it ... now!

Karachi moved beneath me and moved me along with it. Its warmth grew everyday. It seemed to liquefy every object within its jurisdiction. It stuck to you, and sucked you into its orderly chaos. It was this sticky heat that seemed to have consumed all my thoughts. My thoughts fell out of my ears and once the chaos stopped for a few minutes, all I had was scribbles and giggles.

I confidently started to write “the” on a clean page hoping it would inspire a sentence to follow when my bedroom door swung open.[1]

“Chai[2] time?” 

John stood in the doorway, somehow looking fresh as ever in a white tee and jeans faded the perfect amount to be considered cool. I quickly glanced down at my own appearance: a baggy linen shirt and tights. My dark brown hair defied gravity, as if I was consciously trying to get my waves to reach out to the world when in reality I merely stopped fighting the humidity. Along with my hair straightener, make-up also ceased to be a friend. Most of my lipsticks created a beautiful earth tone at the bottom of my make-up bag once they melted.  I felt too gross to consider that I might actually look cool.[3]

“JOHN! How many times have I told you? Common space is fine to pester me in but knock before entering my private space.  Helloooo I’m a woman, living in a house with boys I never chose to live with is bad enough let alone you-“

He interrupted my rant, “You are setting women back with your ‘I-am a-woman-treat-me-like-a-flower’ talk while you are writing away about elevating the status of women in this society through following a path of sustainable economic development.”

I thought about this for a minute. I hated John for challenging every little thing I said and contorting my words into opinions that went against those beliefs that lived at my very core – otherwise known as my unwritten thesis.

“Let’s just have chai.  You can sort your curiously contradictory ways later.”

I followed John into the kitchen where he made chai. Somehow as an American living in Karachi for three years he learned how to make chai better than me, a self-proclaimed Pakistani that rarely tagged on the Canadian bit unless I needed a visa for some place controversial.

“How’s your work coming along?” John asked as we sat in the only common area in the house. It was a long room with stark white walls and a few colourful paintings done by street artists the four of us living in the house pitched in money to get framed.  John and I each took seats at the unnecessarily ornate dining table.

I put a finger to my lips and shook my head vigorously. John understood this type of day. Just last week he went on a rampage while reviewing the first two chapters of his work. His entire six foot being stomped around the house like a madman tearing up each page in exactly eight pieces.[4]

His green eyes moved about as though he was physically searching for something to talk about when finally they lit up. “Want to watch the test match? Starts in an hour.”

I let out a deep sigh. No matter how many times I tried to explain to John, he never quite digested that just because I was Pakistani didn’t mean I pledged allegiance to the one thing all Pakistanis could actually agree upon – their cricket team. In fact, I didn’t even understand cricket. I watched snippets of matches when I was younger with my father mostly when I thought there was a crush-worthy player on either team. I did not discriminate.

“Samar, you have to immerse yourself in your environment. I am aware you don’t enjoy cricket, but view it as part of your research. Be one with your own!”

His eyes were wide and had sparkle in them as though he was Martin Luther King delivering his “I have a dream” speech.

“I have been the culture since landing. I eat all the same food, I shop at all the same markets. I go to women’s shelters, hospitals, orphanages, government offices, aid agencies and transform clients into human voices. That is my work.” I snorted, “John, you think your lens becomes more genuine because you’re one with the people watching cricket? You don’t see the neo-colonial relationships you create, the way people follow your every step, never missing an opportunity to call you sahib.” I played the race card. It was cruel but needed to be done to shut him up.

“Listen miss-I-think-my-skin-colour-legitimizes-me-” Thankfully I was saved from his impending monologue by a banging on the gate door. John shot me a nervous look.

“Well, go on. I am just a simple, defenseless woman afterall.” I batted my eyelashes to annoy him even further.

I slipped up the stairs as I saw John lead a man into our academic haven that also happened to be our residence. I placed myself strategically in the hallway to be able to view the visitor without being seen. He was talking to John and dressed in a khaki-coloured shalwar kurta. Perhaps this visitor was one of John’s many local friends that he collected to prove he was truly keeping it real. For a moment, the visitor turned around as though he knew I was standing just up the stairs and I caught sight of his face.

Perfectly symmetrical.

---

[1] Had I not been interrupted, I am certain I would have come up with something or other to follow “the”, but John, as you will get to know him, is a master at impeding progress.

[2] Tea in Urdu. Although chai-tea-lattes are ubiquitous in North America, the way the word is used makes little sense. Chai is tea, so why say tea tea with a shot of espresso in steamed milk?  I am lost in this awful translation.

[3] I didn’t care to look fresh and cool for John in particular, but the way his perfectly groomed appearance was worn so nonchalantly irritated me.  It’s like he was always singing anything you can do I can do better ...

[4] He was strangely systematic even when enraged.

---

Kenney's Canada

Some more thoughts on Kenney's recent decision that have come out of thinking through the issue while writing an article for Schema (I am just about done, I promise):

Beyond all the marginalizing ramifications over the move to ban the niqab at citizenship ceremonies, what interests me most is Jason Kenney's logic. 

Kenney wants to ensure people are committed to Canada, which apparently seeing people mouth the oath itself will prove.  Is he also going to recommend lie detector tests as folks leave the room to see if they really meant it?

A friend recently confessed to me he did not repeat the oath at the ceremony. “I didn’t want to promise to be the Queen’s bitch,” he joked.

 
For Kenney, seeing people perform the oath is vital because it creates two classes of ceremonies and citizens: “If Canada is to be true to our history and to our highest ideals, we cannot tolerate two classes of citizens." 

Canada's history is littered with examples of scales of citizenship.  I am not too interested in preserving the Canadian history of quotas on immigration from particular countries, head taxes and of course, stealing all the land we all live on.   

Many Canadian-born people feel the same way. So maybe Canada shouldn't be defined as a country trying to preserve its history, but one that is able to honour the outcome of it by ensuring its culture is as dynamic as its people. 

Covering Jason Kenney

A few quick tips for journalists covering Kenney's problem with covering:

1) Niqabs and burqas are not the same thing. You can wear a burqa without covering your face. Hijab is a related concept, but stop using hijabi women in photographs when speaking about niqabis.

2) Assuming these women do not have agency is oppressive:

 a) Oppression has many layers. A niqab may represent a form of oppression but let’s not forget it can also represent choice. 

b) Please, please, please speak with women who wear a niqab before forming an opinion. It is only fair. Speaking with "moderates" and academic Muslims creates a nice supporting cast but you are missing the star of the show.

3) Do not become entangled in Islamic debates about the "obligation to veil" and to what degree. People will still wear the niqab as an expression of religiousity whether or not you can prove what the Quran truly means by "modest."

4) Finally, let's address the elephant in the room: How will alienating these women teach them about the equality Kenney is trying to preach?

  

Working on a longer piece with the voices I'd like to hear in it .... stay tuned.

I thought you were my friends!

 "I can't stand him. He's a liar."

"You're tired of him? What about me?  I have to work with him everyday."

The now famous Sarkozy-Obama exchange about their friend Netanyahu is quite amusing for many, me included. 

Who hasn't complained about a friend or colleague before? The sensitivity that we have upon hearing that someone has been talking about is amazing given how much we shit-talk ourselves. Not that I am crying for Netanyahu.

When we hear things about ourselves in that way, it is because we have stumbled into a private conversation we were not meant to hear. Which is exactly what Sarkozy and Obama thought they were having. A few issues I want to note:

1) As public figures can they expect privacy?

They are human and even though they are politicians, they are entitled to privacy. But thinking you can have privacy in a room full of journalists moments before they are supposed to be listening in on your conversation is maybe kind of ... stupid.

2) As a journalist, do you report this or not?

The journalists in the room had class and decided it was an off the record conversation - in part as a way to keep those that organized the event out of trouble. Isn't that sweet? But then someone broke the story anyway.

Dan Israel, an Arret Sur Images writer that broke the story eventually forcing other journalists to confirm what was heard.

3) Obama deals with Netanyahu everyday?

Isn't your economy tanking? Why are you spending so much time thwarting the Palestinian cause again? Just get caller ID Barack - it's life changing.  

4) How hilarious is this?

Very. And on so many levels (please do comment and expand on why and how it's funny for for you).

I currently have an article to write, so  I must be torn away from this subject that could provide me with endless hours of entertainment.

I am suffering Eid withdrawal

Today is my first Eid-ul-Adha in Vancouver. It is my fourth year missing Muslim holidays with my family. When I realized this earlier today, I was quite saddened as I also realized that I am really not quite sure when my next Eid with them will be. So, I thought I would take some time to reflect and remember the experience of Eid that my family consciously created for me.

Growing up, I always thought of Eid-ul-Adha as the "second" Eid, both chronologically and in importance. It is in fact the more religiously significant Eid, but I figured since I didn't get any Eidee (cash/money/bling) it couldn't possibly be that important.

In retrospect, and with a deep ache in my heart today, I realize beyond the cash value of the day, the ritual of family togetherness is what made it beautiful.

Eid can be equated to a pretty sweet open house. My paternal grandmother lived with us for many years and as a result our house was the epicentre of Eid for my father's family. The house needed to be scrubbed clean by me and my sister (she told me she missed my "slavery" earlier today), mom would magically create sweet and savoury delights, while dad would simply put on his new sherwani and topi (a fez if he was getting really fancy) and stay out of our way.

My family on what must be Eid since
me and my sister have matching outfits

After Eid prayers in the morning, family would slowly start filling the house. First the Markham peeps, then a sprinkle of Scarborough, followed by some from Stouffville, and finally after crossing the sea of Toronto traffic the Mississauga crew would arrive. You never really knew who would show up when and there were always pleasant surprises of family friends and neighbours that would drop by.

Everyone would gush about each other's outfits ("the embroidery is truly amazing on that suit") and of course something about the inevitable fashion faux pas or two ("did she not realize only wide-leg shalwars are in this season?"). I never really understood what was in fashion or not in Karachi since I could barely keep up with the Toronto fashion scene. This frustrated my mother deeply as I always told her "it's fine, I'll wear whatever" until I saw my sister's carefully selected sparkling outfit. I would then proceed to have a mini-fit over my kameez not fitting properly or not having the perfect matching jewelry. Luckily, with the help of my mother and sister, it all came together in the end.

The conversation between extended family members was always too polite or too personal depending on who you were talking to. Some aunties inquired about my weight, which I never really knew how to feel about. I was always tempted to shoot the question back but thought my mother would kill me, since that would reflect badly on her rather than me (the associative nature of South Asian insults is tiring - can't I just be associated with myself if I am being rude rather than tarnishing my family's reputation?). Others discussed school with me, some with a razor-sharp memory of what I was studying and others simply lamenting it was a waste since I was clearly intelligent and should have done something useful like medical school (I wonder what they say about me now that I am in journalism school!).

Me and my dad, Eid-ul-Adha 2007

The food we ate was filled with love as my mother would try to make out favourite dishes, while also pleasing the crowd with things she was known for. The chai served was always taken appreciatively. No matter how basic (or offensive) the conversation with family, it was rooted in an attempt to connect. By the end of the afternoon, we were all exhausted. Folks would leave and we would have some down time before heading out to the party being hosted by another family member that evening.

The first Eid after my grandmother died was tough. There was a distinct void felt, but everyone still came over that year attempting to fill it for one another. That was the first time I began to realize the value of this particular day and the subtle ways family ensured this was a special day.

As a 1.5 generation Pakistani-Canadian, my family created a distinct experience for Eid. It couldn't have been easy. There are no "eid lights" or greeting cards sold. Sure, schools and workplaces accommodated for us to have the day off but life didn't stop for anyone else. There were always a few people missing writing an exam or meeting with a client. I would love to be in a Muslim country for Eid to truly experience what the holiday felt like for my parents growing up.

I have all my mostly sweet, sometimes sour Eid memories but I feel like I never tried to capture them because I never imagined a day I would be without the excitement of Eid.

My two-year old niece will get to experience all the excitement of Eid as she attaches her own meaning to it, renewing what it means to all of us. I hope I can be there next year to eat well, laugh along and take some photos to remember it all.

Eid Mubarak!

Why are terrorists so stupid?

Terrorism is defined as political violence. Wreckless and shameless, it's all rooted in some all-important political message that supposedly justifies the means.

(Insert apologetic statement about being Muslim here, followed by a sombre pronouncement that this is not a sarcastic post.)

Reading about the twin suicide attacks on the British embassy in Kabul today (early Friday in Kabul) made me scratch my head.

I. Just. Don't. Get. It.

What I don't understand is the message. What exactly are these terrorists trying to communicate?

The attack comes on Afghanistan's independence day - independent from Britain since 1919. Is the rationale that since the Brits are in Afghanistan again, they need to be reminded independence has already been won? To me, it just further defines the power relationship; x terrorist group views "their people" as perpetual victims.

I am just so sick of this narrative of saving the people from the colonizers. This so-called political violence only enables further control. Is there no realization that the actions of a few make calls for collective punishment seem "rational"?

Instead, why not draw strength from the concept of independence to work towards rebuilding once more? Why not draw strength from the spirit of Ramadan? Or why not simply take a minute - think about it?

After studying the subject, pouring over academic papers, listening to political commentators, and generally losing my mind over it, I have come to one conclusion:

Your grievance doesn't count as soon as you become a reason someone else is grieving. It's that simple.

Too bad no terrorists read my blog.

Cost of Living

Having recently moved to Vancouver (ahem, yesterday), while looking for a place I can call home, the ridiculous cost of living of this city hit me while I was being naively optimistic about what I could afford.

Which got me thinking about the exclusivity of postal codes (ok, so it doesn't work as well as zip code, but you know what I am getting at). A glimpse of water, a mountain view will all cost you. Which seems fair - more desirable means more valuable. But is it?

How do we monetarily value views that should be available to everyone? The hardwood, the high ceilings, the fancy gym - that you can slap a value on. But isn't it a bit sad that you can buy a view or accessibility or fresh air? (Ok, so I am being dramatic about the fresh air)

Isn't it a bit absurd? Shouldn't we all have these things?

Creating a new New Delhi

Tomorrow is New Delhi’s SlutWalk. There are many opinions about the idea of a SlutWalk, about the cultural “appropriateness” of the idea in Delhi, the issue of class and those privileged enough to participate and get their drivers to pick them up afterwards. To this I will simply lay out that, for me, the importance piece of this is women reclaiming public space. Especially in a city like New Delhi where if you are out in public as a woman, day or night, you can expect to be catcalled, harassed, or groped. It is this sad state of the status quo that this walk aims to change.

I read an interesting article in The Star a few weeks ago about the New Dehli SlutWalk. Two thoughts ran through me: admiration for the women who will carry this out and fear for them.

Featured in the article was an interview with New Delhi police inspector Pavan Kumar who likely epitomizes the attitude towards women in the city. He led the police unit that investigated rape allegations for fifteen years. His explanation for the high rate of rape as compared to other Indian cities was that really, half the cases were only filed as a result of family pressure to cover up their daughter’s consensual sexual involvement with a man.

“A woman would go back home to her family and they would want to know who she was with and where she was. She’d say she was taken without consent to relieve the pressure on her.”

Seriously?

The fact that this man held a position of power in a unit that investigated rape allegation absolutely disgusts me. Was he appointed because of his attitudes, or was he one of the more progressive chaps in New Dehli’s police force?

For a woman to be brave enough to report a rape and for a family in such a climate to be supportive of her be simply cast off in this light is abhorrent.

Rape is ultimately an act of violence. No amount of flesh shown by a woman can justify it. Men are not simply driven to it because of women. It is insulting to all the respectful men I know to pre-suppose such a thing.

But that's not all Kumar had to say. The police inspector went on to explain why New Delhi’s rape statistics are higher than Mumbai’s: “Maybe it’s the climatic conditions,” he said. “Mumbai is humid but they have the winds blowing off the water so much. Here there is none of that relief. The temperature is so high and you see people angry here. We have so many incidences of road rage.”

Kumar assumes it must be something innate in the environment that drives men to rape. As if such a brutal act is simply a response to the weather. I cannot wrap my head around how he could find this to be a rational explanation that is appropriate to share for print.

For a woman to be in public on a hot day in Delhi is not a good enough reason for her to be harassed, groped or raped. A woman may have the right to be out in public, but that does not mean she will be safe in public. Every society owes it to half their population to ensure this basic right.

---

On a related note, an interesting academic exploration of gendered use of public space in Mumbai I have come across is the book Why Loiter? Women and Risk on Mumbai Streets by Shilpa Phadke, Sameera Khan and Shilpa Ranade. I haven't read the book yet but have read other pieces by Shilpa Phadke on the subject that have been excellent.

New Age Anthropologie

Most women I know let out a sigh of yearning at the mention of Anthropologie. Gorgeous, albeit pricey, clothes, accessories, and décor. I was recently at my friend Michelle’s place when I notice their monthly catalogue on her kitchen table. Excited to lust after items I could not afford, I started to thumb my way through the catalogue. Upon closer examination, my excitement faded, quicly displaced by discomfort.

The location of the shoot appears to be India. A beautiful backdrop no doubt, but not very original and quite frankly, a little colonial in style.

A quick sample of the catalogue to your right - the lovely model is wearing the "contrasting halves dress". How clever, to have a contrasting dress on a glowing model in front of a small army of brown boys. Are we seriously still using "locals" as props to ensure the product is prominently shown? Is this actually seen as appropriate?

See more of the catalogue here.

I was thinking about why this particular company would bother to go on a trek to India to produce an offensive catalogue. Then it struck me: Anthropologie. The connotation of the brand name itself, Anthropologie, combined with this absurd neo-colonial imagery leads me to ask the question: Are people that unaware of history, or do they feel they have the power to simply ignore it?

Anthropologists have generally made me uncomfortable. The need to examine other cultures is not what makes me uncomfortable, it is the classic attitudes that I have encountered in reading, talks and the like that have incited an unsettling feeling to stir deep within my belly. The history of this particular field is not pretty. The study of people in "other" cultures emerged from the study of natural history. Cultures that had been colonized by European powers were studied in a "scientific" manner, studied as one would study the environment. Once anthropology was seen as distinct from natural history, the concept of race and the placement of value on races was a hot topic. Cultural dominance often comes with the assumption of cultural superiority - and wasn't that the essence of colonialism?

Although the field has changed rapidly and anthropologists of today would not share the views of their nineteenth and even twentieth century peers, it's unfortunate that this retailer has chosen to be "clever" with their May catalogue and use beautiful clothes to dredge up reminders of an ugly past.

"Anthropologie offers a one-of-a-kind and compelling shopping experience that makes women feel beautiful, hopeful and connected ... Complex as you are, you remain our inspiration and because of this, we endeavor to bring you an unimagined experience."

I am a bit more complex than you imagined.

Identity and Survival

Upon discovering the colloquial use of Paki in Spain (or in Barcelona at the very least), Andreea and and I decided to dig a little deeper.

First stop? Google. After watching a documentary called Pakcelona, we learned about Huma Jamshed, a businesswoman who owns a travel agency and started a Pakistani women's association in Barcelona - ACESOP. We tracked her down in Raval, one of the city's better known immigrant-populated neighbourhoods. Since it was siesta time, we headed from her office to the women's centre.

After moving to Spain to complete a PhD in Madrid, Huma started a business in Barcelona and established ACESOP. Huma has developed an interesting perspective on the subject of Pakis. Check out the video below for her thoughts.

From this conversation, it became clear that for Huma survival issues were the primary priority and identity issues would only become important after the community becomes more established in Spain.

It is impossible to undermine the importance of her point; economic and social security are not only vital to quality of life but survival itself. When helping someone escape an abusive home and trying to ensure their immigration status will be valid without their sponsor, it becomes obvious that identity politics will not be front of mind.

This, however, does not mean that survival and identity are mutually exclusive issues. In immigrationspeak, settlement and integration are processes vital to considering immigration successful for both the immigrant and host country. (Yes, people have all sorts of issues with these terms and their meanings, but bear with me for now.)

Settlement typically refers to the immediate issues - housing, employment, schooling and the like.

Integration is a longer-term process, the ultimate aim being for immigrants to feel they are able to participate in their adopted society socially, economically, culturally and politically. For me, this vision represents the opposite of ghetto-ization.

When people have a name for a group of "ethnic" people that the community itself does not use, when they are geographically clustered in particular neighbourhoods that are considered dangerous until the yuppies move in and gentrify it, when an employer cannot with "good conscience" hire an individual because of their ethnic background as it is perceived to be a huge risk, when girls are being asked by their parents to not continue school after high school so as not to be corrupted by the "adopted" country's culture - this vision of integration is a distant reverie.

The way an identity is constructed by both the adopted society and the ethnic community will forever shape the relationship between the two.

When a Paki means a corner store to locals, it corners Pakis into a particular socio-economic box. Identity shapes how one will survive - barely living is barely survival.

Slang Power

I'm pissed, yo.

This phrase is a normalized part of the English language for me. Not to say I am pissed all the time - but when I am, I rarely will express it as: Well, I am angry.

Slang is associated with many things - the evolution of language, the re-appropriation of terms and the misappropriation of terms.

Slang can be so whacked out in your own language, so why does it always seem even stranger in other languages? The connection from the slang term to the actual term seems so much more distant in other languages because of our own ignorance of the language and it's many intricacies.

So, while visiting my dear friend Andreea in Spain, she mentioned to me that the word for variety store here is Paki. And for dollar store, Chino.

Huh?

Those who grew up in Spain have assured me these are not racist terms. They simply refer to the short-form term for ethnicities that tend to own these kind of stores. They are perceived as innocuous terms with no latent negative meaning.

I am most interested in the use of Paki, given it's long ugly history. The power to create this slang and make it a mainstream phrase is not with Pakistanis, but most seem to think Pakistanis likely don't mind.

So how do the Pakis feel about this?

Andreea and I have decided to explore the subject further. Stay tuned.

International Women's Day and the F-word

International Women’s Day always brings gender issues into the mainstream media, providing a rare reason for a broad audience to talk about how to eliminate violence against women, ensure greater political representation, or guarantee reproductive rights.

As happy as I am to see those issues be discussed by a wider audience than the usual “progressive” crowd, I can’t help but think: Will I ever live in a world where we don’t need a day to speak about these issues? Where the population at large simply cares to ensure particular privileges exist for women and men alike?

This gets me thinking about the “women’s movement”. I am not sure it is a singular movement anymore since every issue has a gender angle to it - poverty, climate change, economic development. Many people that cringe at the use of the “f-word” often wonder why, in a society where women have equal rights, do women have to be so annoying and talk about gender – it’s a non-issue right?

I always keep a few responses in my back pocket:

1. It is about gender – men and women are NOT the same, therefore have different needs.You cannot have a conversation about gender without talking about men.

2. Fixation on the pay issue is always a favourite for many people in North America. “Women work, they make the same money, have the same opportunities” is something I hear all the time. Women are now attaining higher levels of education, but still make less – across almost every field. It’s still an issue as economic means remain a determinant of other opportunities available to an individual.

3. Women “here” are connected to women “there” – those faraway places that we don’t like to think about because unpleasant things such as genital mutilation and forced marriage happen.

4. Women “here” experience many of the same things – do we truly believe there are no forced sex workers, women experiencing violence, or systemic poverty in our society?

5. This isn’t about making women victims. Every society I can think of in today’s world (I am sure I have knowledge gaps – this is a blog not a thesis, get over it) patriarchy reigns. We need to work towards a world where victimizing a woman isn’t normal and advocating tooth and nail for a fair shot at life is no longer the case. The power for a woman to choose her own destiny is all we ask for.

Work life, family life, sex life – whatever, is all affected by gender relations. For many, the status quo provides benefits- making individuals blind to its effect on others, or the status quo is so completely normalized it becomes difficult to imagine any other type of society.

We pesky women (and men) have imaginations. We can imagine worlds that do not exist but can exist. One where your genitalia does not determine your destiny.

Moreover, us pesky feminists believe it will exist.

To women all over – mothers, sisters, friends and lovers, have a lovely International Women’s Day.

To fund or not to fund - that is not simply not the question.

Bev Oda, the minister responsible for Candian International Development Agency, altered a recommendation made by staff within the agency. By hand-writing "NOT" in a document produced by a civil servant, Oda altered the recommendation from reading a contribution to the organization Kairos be approved, to reading the contribution not be approved. See the document here.

Oda has now come under fire by opposition parties for previously denying any knowledge about who had altered the memo.

PM Harper has defended Oda by saying that it is the minister's decision whether or not to fund an organization and not the bureaucracy's.

Once again, Harper relies on the lack of knowledge in the general public around the role of bureaucratic arm in relation to the political arm. The civil service is certainly not composed of decision-makers, rather, it is composed of those who have the academic, technical, and institutional knowledge to advise politicians on making decisions.

By changing the recommendation, Oda was not taking responsibility for her decision and rather was trying to shift that responsibility to the poor bureaucrat who wrote the memo (in all likelihood in good faith).

Part of being a politician is the privledge of making these types of decisions. That being said, the politician also bears the responsibility for that decision- especially in cases when decisions are contrary to what has been recommended by the bureacracy. Given that every recommendation that comes up to the political level must be buttressed with an appropriate amount of evidence to clearly demonstrate why the recommendation is in fact in the best interest of the public, that same burden must fall on a politician when he or she decides to take another course of action.

So either our PM is trying to pull a fast one on the public with his justification of Oda's actions, or he simply misunderstands the intended model of a relationship between a cabinet and the bureacracy. Either way - it's NOT looking good.

Hope grows.

As the tentacles power grew in Egypt and strangled citizens, they found their strength to struggle against this force, at first nibbling, then gnawing - rapidly becoming more assertive. I have watched this scene unfold and remain transfixed on whether or not they will be able to truly oust the beast.

The police have been dealt their karmic cards - stations burned, authority stripped.

The military remains the wildcard. Whether or not the military will support the people or the government will help shape the outcome.

The president is deposing the government as he plans to be the lone horse riding into town at dawn after this long, long night. Brave or stupid? Either way, his karmic card will be dealt.

Part Four - Politics, People and Prayer: Behind the Blasphemy Law in Pakistan

Implications for the Nation

Sherry Rehman has recognized that support for the blasphemy law is a symptom of the increasing extremism in Pakistan that has led to increasing disregard for human rights: “Even with full repeal, the abuse of minorities won’t stop. Most cases are perpetrated by mobs.”

She goes on to say, “They, too, must know the law will take cognizance of their behaviour as criminal and liable for punishment.” However, authorities have turned a blind eye to the mobs, perhaps out of fear, ideology or lack of capacity. The weakness of the judiciary is exposed as the public enforces the blasphemy law rather than the courts.

The implications of this are far-reaching. Democracy in Pakistan is weak to say the least – Pakistanis may be able to vote, but stale political choices and lack of protection for minority rights reveal the regressive nature of the political system.

The deep political divide, however, is not as clear as it may first appear. Those who oppose the blasphemy law face a muzzle on their freedom of speech – the price of removing the muzzle proved too high for Mr. Taseer.

The true failure of the nation lies in the irony of a country created to protect a population from becoming a sidelined minority to later rearing its ugly head as a mob majority.

Part Three - Politics, People and Prayer: Behind the Blasphemy Law in Pakistan

Real Politik

Pakistan has not been afforded the luxury of a stable political system. Between the military dictatorships of ul Haq in 1988 and Musharraf in 1999, the pendulum of power has swung between governments led by Benazir Bhutto as leader of the Pakistani’s People Party (PPP) and Nawaz Sharif, leader of the Pakistani Muslim League – Nawaz Group (PML-N). Battling constant allegations of corruption, satisfying the electorate and appeasing the religious elements of society has left little time for action on the blasphemy law.

During Bhutto’s second term in office, she was unable to make procedural changes to the law, let alone abolish it. Musharraf was similarly unsuccessful in 2005. After the fall of Musharraf in 2008, and the introduction of another PPP government under Syed Yousuf Raza Gilani and Asif Ali Zardari, Bhutto's widower, the law remains intact.

In November 2010, PPP Member of National Assembly (MNA) and former Information Minister Sherry Rehman brought a private member’s bill to the National Assembly to amend the blasphemy law. The most important amendment Rehman proposed was to replace the death penalty in section 295-C with a 10-year sentence. The government has maintained that the PPP is not associated with the bill and it should be viewed as a private member’s bill.

On January 1^st, a strike in Pakistan’s largest urban centre, the port city of Karachi, was organized in condemnation of the proposed amendments. The city was virtually shut down as businesses and transport operators stopped service to protest the amendments.

In addition to this opposition is the added complication of the support of lawyers, religious leaders, and political parties of the actions of Mumtaz Qadri, Salman Taseer’s killer. Public rallies held in support of Qadri’s cause have put the government further on edge.

The PPP government is already in a minority position, and needs the support of coalition parties in order to effectively lead the country. With the withdrawal of key support from the Muttahida Quami Movement (MQM) earlier this month, the government cannot afford an unpopular move. Amending the blasphemy law may prove to be political suicide, even if the act itself is in line with the ideology of the party. This paints a bleak picture for those that hope the blasphemy law will be repealed and dark implications for the possibilities of a true democracy in Pakistan.

Part Two - Politics, People and Prayer: Behind the Blasphemy Law in Pakistan

Consequences of the law

Interestingly enough, protective measures for minorities exist within Part XV of the PPC. For instance, sections 295 and 295-A of the PPC speak against offences made against “religions of any class”, unlike later sections that refer specifically to Islamic symbols. Unfortunately, time has proven that sections such as 295B and 295C, which refer to the defilement of the Quran and defamation of the Prophet, have received far more attention by the public and judicial system.

The National Commission for Justice and Peace (NCJP) is a human rights advocacy organization founded in 1985 by the Pakistan Catholic Bishops’ Conference. It has been in strong opposition to the blasphemy law and has advocated on behalf of those wrongfully accused under it since 1990.
According to the NCJP 2009-2010 Human Rights Monitor, there were an increasing number of blasphemy cases in 2008 and 2009, and further research indicated that a number of cases exploited the law for personal reasons. In 2009, the government compensated victims for loss of property and loss of life at the hands of extremists in relation to blasphemy cases, but the government has not identified a long-term strategy to stop the abuse of the legislation.

The NCJP has also reported that 479 Muslims, 340 Qadianis, 119 Christians, 14 Hindus and 10 people who identify with other religions were charged under the blasphemy law from 1986 to 2009. Although Muslims have not been excluded from prosecution under the law, the minorities who have been charged, even if they have escaped conviction, have paid a high price.

In 1993, Rehamat Masih, Manzooh Masih and Salamat Masih (just 11 years old at the time) were accused under the laws for allegedly writing offensive phrases on a wall of a mosque in the province of Punjab. In 1994, Manzoor was shot after one of his court hearings. Salamat Masih and Rehamat Masih were sentenced to death in February of 1995. Later that same month, both were acquitted of charges by the Lahore High Court. Justice Arif Iqbal Hussain Bhatti, who was one of the judges involved in the case, was killed two years later. His killer was later caught and cited the acquittal of Salamat and Rehamat as the motivation behind his brutal act.
Following international attention brought to the blasphemy law in 1995, the government proposed amendments to the law to avoid further abuse. The first proposed amendment was the implementation of a 10-year jail sentence for false blasphemy accusations. The government also proposed a requirement that sufficient evidence must be presented to the satisfaction of a magistrate before a case could be formally registered.

In May 2005, there was a nationwide strike supported by conservative political parties against the changes. This resulted in the government dropping the proposed amendments and the Interior Minister announcing that the mandatory death penalty under section 295-C would remain intact.
Despite the growing division over the law, hundreds of individuals continued to be charged. And although none of these individuals were given the death penalty by the state, the sentence was often carried out extrajudicially.

Samuel Masih, a Christian, was charged with blasphemy in 2003 for allegedly spitting on the wall of a mosque. Masih was accused of defiling a mosque. While in prison, Masih became sick with tuberculosis and was transported to a hospital. A police officer who was designated as Masih's guard, Faryad Ali, killed Masih by striking him with a brick cutter. Ali claimed that it was his duty as a Muslim to kill Masih. Masih was 27 years old at the time of his death.

Others accused of blasphemy, such as Anwat Masih who was charged in 2003 but later acquitted, have been forced to go into hiding to avoid the fate faced by Manzoor Masih and Samuel Masih. Dr. Younas Sheikh was also charged in 2000 and was later acquitted. Sheikh was re-tried in 2003 and was acquitted once more, finally leaving Pakistan for Europe the same year.

The abuse of the law against minorities by those seeking to settle scores, as is suspected in the case of Aasia Bibi, is also of increasing concern. In 2006, two elderly Christian men were tried and then acquitted for allegedly burning pages of the Quran, charges that were conveniently raised during a land ownership dispute.
These are just a few examples of the deep impact this law has had on individuals. The United Nations, Amnesty International, and Human Rights Watch are just a few organizations that have identified Pakistan’s blasphemy law as hugely problematic for human rights. Given the long history of abuse of the law, its impact on minorities and international outcry, it is unusual that no government after 1990 has taken the opportunity to remedy the issues the blasphemy law has created in Pakistani society.