In 1999, when the Christian missionary Graham Staines was brutally burned to death while he slept in his car with his two little sons, I wrote against the attacks. And I wrote strongly against the violent attacks against Christians in Kandhamal two years ago.
A great majority of English-speaking Indians have at some stage of their lives been to missionary schools or colleges or a hospital managed by missionaries, and nobody has ever tried to convert these Indians there. I think we have no gratitude for those who have served us selflessly. In fact, when Arun Shourie wrote about conversions, hitting out at Christians, I pointed out to him that he owed his own education to the Christian missionaries. Then when he wrote against Islam and fatwas I cornered him again. I even invited him home to dine with some of my Muslim friends to show him that he’s wrong about what he says about the Muslim community. He’s even written against Ambedkar. But the situation is grave. It is really upsetting. Earlier, the CIA was blamed for all our problems. Once when some students clashed with the police over cinema tickets, Giani Zail Singh said the CIA had a hand in it. Now it is the ISI. And Pakistan, mind you, is using the same strategy. There, they blame RAW for all their problems.
It’s not just a Hindu-Muslim problem. Nor a Hindu-Christian one. We have become intolerant. We have no compassion or understanding for those who are different from us.
I think most Indians don’t realize the magnitude of the communal problem in our country—in spite of the signs being writ large in recent years. The intolerance that people have shown—and the politicians have fanned these flames—is disgraceful. The way Husain’s paintings were burnt, or the shooting of a film stopped, or the way changes were introduced in history books and school texts, the hate propaganda against the Christians and Muslims—false theories that the Christian population is going up because of conversions when in fact the reality is that the Christian population in India has actually gone down. And the Sangh capitalizing on old prejudices about Muslims—that they are multiplying at an alarming rate when the census figures clearly show that the rate of growth of the Hindu population has always been higher . . . Since Independence, in almost every communal riot, the Muslim loss of life and property has been almost ten times that of the Hindus. It’s a sad day for the country if Muslims have to survive like the Hindus and Christian minorities do in Pakistan.
This communal violence, these prejudices, is what worries me the most about this country. I’m not optimistic but one should fight, one should make every single effort to save the country and openly challenge and take on the men who are creating trouble and destroying the country. We have to battle with them at any cost, give it back to them, abuse for abuse. If we love our country we have to save it from these communal forces. Even though the liberal class is shrinking I do hope that the present generation totally rejects communal and fascist polices.
On Politics Today
We seem to be on the right course. The Sonia and Manmohan combination is working out well. The 2009 elections were decisive—it was to be either the right wing or the secular parties. And the greatest relief is that the fundoos have been put down.
One thing that bothers me though is that even though we call ourselves a secular democracy the State involves itself in religious matters. I’m referring to the way hectares of forest land were given to the Amarnath Shrine Board, creating total chaos and anarchy in the state of J&K. It’s okay to look after the security and comfort of pilgrims but to give away public property or money to religious bodies is not done in a secular state. The same can be said about the way the Government of India sends official delegations of Muslims to Haj. Why should the government send delegations and provide subsidies for the pilgrims? Why this government patronage? There is no justification for doing this in a secular democracy.
I am totally disillusioned with the Left. They seem fixated on their anti-American position. Today we are the closest allies of America, but the way the Left react to any kind of talks with the US, it’s not good for our country. It was especially disturbing and upsetting, the manner in which the Communists withdrew support to the Manmohan Singh government last year. They just pulled out and joined hands with certain factions of the communal parties of this country—and this when the Left are sworn enemies of the right wing.
They opposed the nuclear deal which will be of immense benefit to us. They continue to take a pro-Chinese stand even though we have been victims of Chinese aggression for a long time. It’s good that the country gave their verdict against the Left in the last general elections—I hold Prakash Karat chiefly responsible for their defeat.
My disillusionment with the Left began years ago, when Stalin made his pact with Hitler. It had shocked me because in my student days I was a strong supporter of the Left and canvassed for the candidates. (In the Punjab there were separate electorates.) I’d not just voted for the Communists but had even housed Daniel Latifi and two of his Communist friends who were on the run in my home in Lahore. One was Sripad Dange and the other Ajoy Ghosh.
It is impossible to predict the future in this country. A single event can transform things, usually for the worse—an assassination, a war, a bad election. But as things are today, and if nothing catastrophic happens, India seems to be in good hands. The country is safe with this trio [Manmohan Singh, Sonia Gandhi and Rahul Gandhi].
On Pakistan
I’m often criticized for being pro-Pakistan. But wanting good relations with Pakistan is being pro-India.
Pakistan is the country of my roots, the land of my birth. I will always have deep affection for that country. Each time I visited my village Hadali, where I was born and spent my formative years, and where our ancestral home still lies, I was overcome with emotion. After I left the village as a child and had shifted to Delhi with my grandmother, I’d visited Hadali three times—twice before Partition and once many years after. And each time I stood feeling overwhelmed, choked. Each time I was flooded with memories of my grandmother—how she’d take me with her when she visited various families in the neighbourhood; to the dharamsala, to the granthi, how she cooked, cleaned the place . . . her voice.
I was always warmly received by the villagers. Three Muslim families who’d shifted from Rohtak were living in our ancestral house and they were so happy to meet me. A few years ago Minoo Bhandara got photographs of our home in the village. They have a board outside the main entrance the house inscribed: ‘In this haveli was born Khushwant Singh, eminent novelist, historian and promoter of Indo- Pakistan friendship’.
I’ve had the opportunity of meeting both Bhutto and his successor Zia. I first met Bhutto in Manzur Qadir’s house in Lahore. Manzur was then Ayub Khan’s foreign minister. He was receiving visitors while I was alone in his study when a handsome, dapperly dressed young man walked in. Manzur came in and said, ‘I see you have introduced yourselves.’ When I said we had not, Manzur told me that Zulfikar was the youngest minister in the cabinet. I left the room and let them talk in private. Manzur was later dropped from the cabinet because Bhutto denounced him as a free thinker and not a good Muslim. He resumed legal practice and retired as chief justice of the Punjab High Court.
Bhutto invited me to Pakistan when he was in power. Our first meeting was in Karachi. Even though he pandered to the Muslim clergy and their archaic laws because he wanted their support—and had even banned the consumption of liquor—we had drinks on his lawn. Two days later, I spent another evening with him in Islamabad and had a second round of drinks. He asked me to convey a message to Indira Gandhi: he was anxious to be on friendly terms with India. When I returned to Delhi I sought an appointment with Mrs Gandhi and conveyed Bhutto’s message of goodwill to her. She gave her opinion in one sentence: ‘He is a damned liar.’
I was in Islamabad for an interview with General Zia-ul-Haq when Bhutto was hanged, staying in a posh hotel largely occupied by foreign journalists. My appointment with the President was a ruse to mislead the foreign media—after all, he would never grant an interview to an I
ndian after hanging Bhutto, would he! The next morning, when I looked out of my window and saw the hotel surrounded by tanks and armoured cars I rang up our ambassador Shankar Bajpai and told him. ‘I’ll get back to you in a few minutes,’ he said. He rang back to say, ‘They have done the deed.’ My appointment with Zia was postponed by a week. A week later, when I was back in Islamabad, General Zia received me with great courtesy. My first question was, ‘General sahib, was it necessary to hang Bhutto? Could you not have pardoned him?’ He replied: ‘He was convicted of murder, for which the punishment is death. Forgiveness is not in man’s hands, it can only be given by Allah.’
Because Pakistan and India have wasted so much of our energies on the next conflict, we are both the architects of each other’s economic ruin. During Musharraf’s regime, which coincided with Vajpayee’s time, I’d made no secret of the fact that our relations with Pakistan couldn’t have been better. There was an increase in Indo-Pak cross-border traffic. That was good for relations between the two neighbours. We still occasionally hear of politicians, singers, poets, and film personalities who come and go, but rarely do we hear of artists exhibiting their works outside their countries. M.F. Husain and the late F.N. Souza received wide acclaim in Pakistan. We need more of our painters and artists visiting Pakistan and it is high time that Indians got to see what Pakistani artists are up to. There should be more exhibitions of each other’s works.
Today I haven’t the foggiest idea what’s happening in Pakistan. Even the Pakistanis don’t know. And now they have chosen a man who is notoriously corrupt. Zardari had a suspended jail term in Switzerland for indulging in shady deals. He is known as ‘Mister Ten Per Cent’ for brokering deals with the government when his wife Benazir was in power. In spite of two terms of office as head of state, Benazir had failed to introduce any legislation to improve the living conditions of the people of Pakistan. Instead she had acquired vast real estate in England, France, the US and Switzerland.
The signs aren’t very hopeful, even though in the last elections Muslim fundoos were routed in the areas they controlled and the liberals won. But where I feel uneasy is that they picked a nondescript politician as prime minister who poses no threat to Zardari and the kingmaker is Zardari who inspires no confidence in anyone.
I worry at times when I think about what’s going on in the subcontinent, in our neighbouring countries. There is so much violence, senseless killings and assassinations. And what’s troubling is the air of aggression and suspicion which has existed for years. We blame ISI for all our problems and Pakistan blames RAW for theirs. What will this achieve? Where will this take us? And just as we have our set of Hindu fundamentalists here, they have theirs—Muslim fundoos—responsible for the senseless massacres and blasts.
I continue to receive many visitors from Pakistan. They come to meet me when they’re in Delhi. It used to be a tradition of sorts—the newly appointed High Commissioner of Pakistan to India would first call on me. And though I see no one without a prior appointment, with those who come from Pakistan I make an exception.
Today, all my Pakistani friends from my Lahore days are gone, and though I still get invitations to travel to Pakistan I can’t take the journey.
Terror and 26/11
My son who lives Colaba rang up at 9.30 p.m. on November 26 to tell us about the bomb blasts and assure us that he was safe. I switched on my TV. I saw flames billowing out of windows of the Taj hotel and its dome enveloped in smoke. I had lived close by for many years and was a daily visitor to its health club. I saw the Oberoi, where I had stayed a few times, surrounded by Indian commandos and guests looking out of windows. I saw the devastation caused to the Jewish enclave, Victoria Terminus, Cama Hospital and the airport. I was numb with disbelief. I had spent many happy years in the city. My first reaction was of impotent rage: ‘Hang the bloody bastards on Marine Drive and let the world see how we deal with murderers of innocent people!’
I cooled down and watched scenes repeated over and over again. They had no leads on the perpetrators. All I could gather was that they knew their way about Mumbai very well, had been fully trained and equipped with the most lethal weapons. They must have also known there was little chance of their ever getting back to their homes. By the time I switched off the TV, the death toll was over 90, including two police officers investigating the Malegaon blast case. They also reported that one of the culprits had been shot dead. I hoped and prayed that he didn’t turn out to be a Muslim.
Alas. He was. So was the rest of the gang. All Pakistanis. From the meticulous way the operation was carried out, it was evident that they had been rehearsing it in minute detail for many weeks, if not months, on Pakistani soil. Pakistan’s rulers had a great deal to explain to the whole world. Many of the victims include foreign nationals.
The Mumbai attacks dealt a heavy blow to those who have been trying to build bridges between the people of India and Pakistan. The process must continue. At the same time we must do our very best to put down those who are likely to exploit the murderous assault in Mumbai to spread Islamophobia. Many Indian Muslims were killed; all of them condemn it, as do other Indians—Hindus, Christians, Sikhs, Buddhists and Parsis alike. If we do not stand united in our reactions to what had happened in Mumbai, the murderers will have achieved what they wanted to achieve. We must not allow this to happen. We are one nation. We must give them one answer: to hell with you! You will never succeed in dividing us.
The star performer in the tragedy was Mohammad Ajmal Amir aptly surnamed Kasab, the butcher. He and nine of his co-murderers killed over 171 Indian men and women, Hindus, Sikhs, Muslims, Christians, as well as half a dozen foreigners within a few hours. They destroyed property worth thousands of crores and virtually brought tourist traffic down to a standstill, depriving many more thousands of their daily livelihood.
Kasab admitted to his crime in open court and pleaded with the judge that he punish him for what he did. He named several Pakistanis and an Indian, Abu Jundal, as co-conspirators. There can be no doubt that his confession was voluntary and no kind of pressure was put on him to do so. He must know that the only punishment for a crime of this magnitude is to be hanged by the neck till you are dead. The judge very wisely delayed pronouncing the sentence to give Kasab a chance to retract his confession.
It was obvious right from the start that there had to be more than one Indian involved in the elaborate and meticulously carried out carnage. It was up to the governments of Pakistan and India to prove that when they said they would co-operate in stamping out terrorism they meant business.
It is clear now that we should not expect an honest response from Pakistan’s leaders. The north-western half of Pakistan is firmly in the grip of backward-looking mullah-mentors of jihadi gangsters. Pakistan’s army, prodded by the Americans, wages a half-hearted war on them because they are fellow-Pakistanis and fellow-Muslims. They would rather engage in battles against Americans and Indians, neither of whom are Muslims. Nobody is quite sure of the role being played by its intelligence services which is often accused of patronizing jihadis. We are even less sure of who is in control of Pakistan’s nuclear arsenal and who has the power to press the fatal button. The scene is so utterly confusing that it is impossible to think clearly besides concluding that if there is another incident like the Mumbai blasts, both our countries have had it.
On 3 May, Ajmal Amir Kasab, charged with the deaths of 166 Indians and foreigners, was pronounced guilty of all eighty-six charges, by a special court in Mumbai. While delivering the judgement, he was found guilty for murder and waging war against the nation. The two Indians who were named as co-accused in the case were acquitted because the evidence against them was weak. Three days later a trial court gave him the death sentence on four counts and life on five.
Kasab initially put the noose around his own neck and no tears shall be shed for him. And even though I’m against the death penalty—it’s inhuman; it should be abolished—when it comes to ghastly crimes like this
, I feel the culprits ought to hang. Just as Indira’s and Gandhi’s killers did. Our system is such that those jailed, the undertrials, they really suffer. There’s a huge backlog of pending cases and most of the people in jail can’t afford bail. The whole system has just got worse and all we do is talk. Each time there’s a new chief justice there are grand statements about reforms but nothing happens.
On Religion
Religion is playing an increasingly important role in the world today. People are turning to religion because of their insecurities. Minorities feel threatened and look towards religion for protection.
I’m an agnostic. I’ve never been religious. When I was in my late twenties I used to have long arguments with Manzur Qadir about religion. I’d ask him how a man of reason could believe in angels and rebirth and the influence of Saturn . . . and he didn’t have any answers for me.
I’ve spent all my life reading sacred texts of different religions and found that most of the scriptures have passages of great literary merit. I started reading and studying different scriptures and books on religion in the ’60s when I had to teach comparative religion at Princeton University and later at Swarthmore College and the University of Hawaii. That’s how I know by heart some of the passages from the Quran, the Gita, the Bible, the Granth Sahib—I have less difficulty with the compilations of Sikh scriptures as they are closer to the Punjabi spoken today. Since I can’t read Arabic and Sanskrit I read English translations. Translations rarely catch the music of words and I sense I miss a great deal that those who know the languages of the original enjoy in full measure.
Absolute Khushwant Page 7