The way it was: Let a thousand flowers bloom---Mian Ijaz Ul Hassan
Absolute truths are a matter of faith and cannot be resolved through debate and
discussion, through give and take, through consensus or compromise. They are by
their very nature mostly established through force
Last week I was in Islamabad at the invitation of Raja Changez Sultan, Director
General of the Pakistan National Council of the Arts for a ‘Dialogue on
Art’. This is a programme organised by Gulzar Afaqi. They put a person in the
dock and ask him to talk about his work and the field of his primary pursuit.
Since painting is my passion it was not easy to find words to describe my
concerns — words are such harlots they refuse to keep your company when you
most need them. But why complain; it is a private affair the less said the
better. None said is best. The best I could do was to show the audience about
thirty bad transparencies spanning a period of four decades. Some of the
questions, which were posed to me later, helped me to discover insights into my
own work. I regard social interaction pivotal to my nature and work.
A former ambassador who works rather hard at golf, more than he should, was
practising at the range when Muneer, a club wit, shouted at him, “Keep
practising! You will definitely improve when you grow up!” The ambassador
looks much younger than seventy. Credit goes to him as he kept his cool and
brushed off the remark and continued driving with his trusted old woods. The
other day when our flight was waiting our turn to tee-off he walked up to me and
pleasantly enquired, “Dear! How are you doing with your painting?”
I couldn’t think of anything better so I pompously ventured to announce,
“Painting is a passion with me. Today is the time of anger. Anger is precious
so I try not to trivialise it.” “Dear! You express yourself so well but why
can’t you pursue better politics?” “In order to address this issue we must
first have politics,” I pleaded. He was not convinced.
I feel considerably involved with the PNCA because I was one of the founding
members of its Governing Body and a member of the Committee, which formulated a
cultural policy in the early seventies. The policy recognised the need to
decentralise culture in order to end the hegemony of anyone culture, language
and literature. While Urdu remained the national language, the languages and
cultures that were denigrated as provincial or regional were acknowledged as
integral components of the national culture. The concept of unity in diversity
replaced the monolithic assertion that viewed the medley of languages and
cultures of various ethnic groups and nationalities residing in Pakistan as a
divisive force. That cultural policy viewed erstwhile ‘divisiveness’ as
diversity, which contrary to weakening lent strength and multiplicity to
Pakistan culture.
The concept was based on the recognition of the unique and distinctive
expressions of our people from rugged and forested mountain ranges to green and
fruity valleys, from the alluvial plains to settlements in the deserts to the
banks of rivers and shores of the Arabian Sea. The cultural policy was based on
a democratic and secular conception, where all citizens were equal and worthy.
Historically it conceived Pakistan as a rich repository of a melange of art and
ideas of many races and civilisations. These traditions mingled with indigenous
traditions to form a culture of great diversity and tolerance.
Sibte Hassan and Aitzaz Ahsan have described the process in a learned and
engaging manner in their works, Pakistan Mein Tehzeeb Ka Irtaqa and The Indus
Saga, respectively. It is so ironic that the forces, which have in the past
tried to impose a static, monolithic concept of culture from above, are today
either terribly divided or isolated. It is amazing that while regarding the
Muslims of the world as one Millat, the various languages spoken in Pakistan
were considered a threat to our nationhood. The attempt to confect a culture on
a bias for one language and its affiliated traditions nurtured by the elite was
treacherous, which as we now all know, had tragic consequences for Pakistan.
In reality the question of the ‘National Language’ was a political one. A
hypocritical attitude was adopted for political and economic gains. If one looks
at the question of language in class perspective there are three striking
aspects and groupings. First there are those who are Urdu speaking but English
medium who would like their children to speak English, study in English schools
and proceed to be educated in universities abroad.
Second are the Urdu Medium citizens who in spite of their best efforts miserably
falter in acquiring English language and manners. And then there is the third
group of illiterates who are deprived of even an elementary education. This vast
majority of the poor, comprising the creative Sindhis, the valiant Baloch, the
resourceful Pakhtuns, the hardy Punjabis, the urbane Urdu Speaking and others of
even greater talent, acquire a tongue and practical knowledge from their
unlettered parents and trials of life. The sad and tragic process of the poor
children growing up to adolescence is faithfully observed and described by
Shaukat Sadiqqui in his famous novel, Khuda Ki Basti. In reality the
contradictions arising from linguistic policies are similar to the provincial
and class contradictions, which have ravaged our beloved country. They all arise
from the nature of economic contradictions.
Absolute truths are a matter of faith and cannot be resolved through debate and
discussion, through give and take, through consensus or compromise. They are by
their very nature mostly established through force. Fortunately for Ziaul Haq,
General Sher Ali Khan had already fabricated the concept of Islamic Ideology
during his stint as General Yahya’s information minister. Sher Khan buttressed
the concept by the notion of ‘Ideological Frontiers’. All dictators and
their disciples have upheld this myth which has empowered the State to call
every citizen’s conscience and faith into question ever since. This was part
of the strategy to suppress any social change. Anyone who spoke of peace and the
rights of the provinces was declared an Indian agent, anyone who demanded
economic and social rights for the people was a Soviet agent and anyone who
spoke for the rights of women was a Zionist agent.
Being an American agent was kosher (halal). Most religious organisations were
hand in glove with Zia in fighting for the United States of Islam against the
infidel Soviet Union. What was being introduced was not Islam, but the violence
of Gali, Goli and Thappar. Islamic ideology is a handy stick for flogging the
people on to ‘sirat ul mustaqeem’, the straight path set by the dictators
and usurpers of the people’s voice and their rights. They were not concerned
with our welfare but wanted to deceive us into accepting them as their saviours
— by hook or by crook, through violent repression or devious referendums.
When Zia held his referendum he declared himself synonymous with Islam. The few
innocent voters who went to cast their votes went under fear of being
apprehended and flogged for being anti Islamic.
It boggles the mind that in a country where Muslims are in a vast majority,
Islam should be under constant threat. If the Palestinians or Kashmiris feel
threatened, it is understandable. But Islam is certainly under no threat here.
If anyone is constantly threatened and needs protection, it is the poor, the
minorities, the women, the children and our environment. Good Muslims should
share the virtues and benefits of their faith instead of threatening others.
Why should Islam hang like the sword of Democles on our head instead of being a
benign umbrella for the needy and the less able? ‘Which of the bounties of
your God will thou deny?’ asks God more than once in Sura e Rehman. Who are
the culprits keeping God’s endless bounties from God’s own men, women and
children?
There is today a new and a most rapacious ideology being advocated, the ideology
that asserts that there should be no ideologies. This is a crass fascist
imposition. It is everyone’s right to hold a view as long as it is not forced
on others. A pluralistic culture is the very essence of democracy where every
individual can uphold a faith according to his belief, express ideas which best
express his mind, freely defend values and actions, which are closest to his
heart, without prejudice to anyone else.
A mind that tries to impose itself on others is of the lowest kind. Let a
thousand flowers bloom, but let minds not be inhibited from freely expressing
themselves. Instead of upholding static and absolute values, we should let
diversity of ideas and free creative expression and economic justice be the
guiding principles for our culture, our ideology and our national unity.
Prof Ijaz-ul-Hassan is a painter, author and a political activist