By JAWED NAQVI
A FORMER Indian diplomat, the rare service where you can still find a few liberal souls, once served in Indonesia. What the diplomat told me left me aghast. It seems that a clutch of soldiers from Subhash Chandra Boseís defeated Indian National Army had retreated to safer territories in Indonesia after the British won the decisive Southeast Asian war against Japan.
When India and Pakistan gained independence in August 1947, the soldiers who had waged a valiant anti-colonial battle went to the new Indian embassy to process their passage back home. They were asked their religion. Muslims were asked to apply to the Pakistan embassy. Things havenít changed much, have they?
Babu Khan Ďmistrií ran a garage for old crocs in Lucknow where my fatherís Ford Prefect was cared for like a pet. Babu wore a fur cap in all seasons somewhat like Firaq Gorakhpuri and loved to pepper his conversation with Urdu couplets. He had returned from Karachi in the 1950s where he failed to find a promised job. He was in this way an economic migrant as migrants often are. Babu soon returned home as people do. He was missing Lucknow and he believed he could still find a life in his old hometown.
The Indian law had no room for his mushy expressions of homes-sickness and the police arrived to repatriate Babu to Pakistan. My lawyer father was a staunch supporter of Nehru. He carried a bullet wound in his arm from his student days. As a young freedom fighter he climbed the roof of Lucknowís Christian College where a senior British official was due to visit. His job was to tear down the Union Jack and put up the Indian flag in its place. The deed done, the young man was rusticated but not before being shot through the arm during the melee. Father got Babu a stay order from the courts and he lived a happy life in Lucknow till his death.
Being connected helps. Being a non-Muslim is all the advantage one needs as an Indian visa-seeker from Pakistan.
One of my fatherís routine pro bono works was to get stay orders, which may be no more possible, for Pakistanis returning to Lucknow. I think Shyam Benegalís film Mammo captured a similar quandary about a simple Muslim woman who kept dodging the police because she had to stay on in her old Bombay home with her sister and nephew.
An uncle, the late professor S.M. Naseer, was beaten and jailed in Kanpur during the freedom struggle. He was a communist. For reasons that took many liberal Muslims to Pakistan, Naseer migrated and became a much-loved economics professor in Karachi. He was baffled that he could never get a visa to India. Then national security adviser J.N. Dixit dug out the files and found intriguing facts in Naseerís dossier. Dixit solved the mystery. The Indian CID knowingly blacklisted Naseer because the British predecessors had marked him as a communist threat. Naseer got his visa finally and broke down at the ancestral graveyard in Mustafabad near Rae Bareli where many of his cousins and elders lie interred. Thatís all that he came to do.
There are so many Pakistanis who would get Indian visas because they were one way or the other linked with progressive activism. Faiz was a leading example. But Sajjad Zaheer returned home from Pakistan and he didnít have to take a stay order to get his Indian citizenship back. Itís all a bit of a lottery. Being connected helps. Being a non-Muslim is all the advantage one needs as an Indian visa-seeker from Pakistan. The prejudice didnít spare soldiers of the INA. It is with this perspective that I saw Indian Home Minister Rajnath Singhís mocking address to Pakistanis the other day. The speech reminded me of an unambiguous couplet.
ďLagey moonh bhi chidhaney dete dete galiyan saahab/Zubaan bigdi to bigdi thi, khabar leeje dahan bigda.Ē (Hissing curses was not enough that youíve started making faces at me. Your tongue was truly dreadful but now, pay heed, your visage looks poised to lose its shape.)
Everyone knows that Pakistanis are harassed and terrified by religious extremism they directly or indirectly helped create. Twisting the knife instead of offering helpful advice, Mr Singh asked Pakistanis to hold a referendum if they would like to migrate to India.
Or perhaps he said the referendum should be about joining India. A similar public survey or plebiscite would continue to be denied to the Kashmiris, he clarified, because Kashmir was in any case an integral part of India.
So what was Singhís point? The question flows from a less mocking quest ó in fact, a heartfelt petition ó pursued previously by Indian leaders of stature. People like Ram Manohar Lohia, a leftist, who had many pitched battles in parliament on behalf of secularism, died dreaming of a confederation between India and Pakistan. Nehru, one or two years before his death, said he too favoured a confederation but did not raise the idea because it frightened Pakistan. You could find this treasure hidden away in the footnotes of Gunnar Myrdalís Asian Drama.
So letís not make a mockery of an idea that was embraced and may have never been discarded by very well-meaning men and women on both sides of the border. As referendums go, here is a real poser without rancour or malice. Mr Singh should free the borders. Be lavish with visas. And then only both sides could jointly ask: do both people want to live in peace with each other? Do they want to jointly fight terrorism of all forms? Should they be allowed to visit each other freely? Should their countries divert their humungous defence budgets to building schools and hospitals?
These are some of the ideals Bose and his soldiers fought for. The answers are all too well known. Mr Singh would be scared of them.
The writer is Dawnís correspondent in Delhi.
jawednaqvi@gmail.com
Published in Dawn February 7th, 2017