Issue 57 Vol III, February 15, 2008

F E A T U R E S

KHARKOO

Remember the partition of India and the consequent holocaust that left millions dead or homeless. Yet there are countless stories of compassion; heroism and sacrifice that help us restore faith in humankind in an otherwise macabre world of gore and hatred. Here is one such story of faith and love recounted by Raghbir Singh, a retired respected senior bureaucrat in an inimitable style. It tells of a boy’s love for his pet, the tan desi spaniel, the Kharkoo [the Rebel] as he calls it that is full of compassion and brooks no compromise. Read on.

This is about my childhood friend. He was a dog, a dark and tan desi spaniel. We grew up together. On partition, he traveled with me from his home in Pakistan to India. You may say that dogs do not have a home. Maybe not the way we humans do, full of glittering objects of decoration, for comfort and status. And when we get deprived of these, we moan in anguish like my mother did when we were leaving the family home. She spoke poignantly to the house help Fatima, affectionately called “Fatto”, “I leave this house for good, full of objects collected lovingly over the years. You can take whatever you like.” Fatto started sobbing inconsolably, “bibijee, what have I got to do with these? I can give up ‘Jannat’, if you do not leave.” And Fatto was a Muslim, serving a Hindu family. She was a few years older to me; a domestic help who also filled in as a playmate for me and Kharkoo. She had been with us for as long as I could remember, long before Kharkoo came along.

Kharkoo was given the name “Tommy” as per fashion of the day. But he acquired the name ‘Kharkoo’ in due course on merit. He could not resist barking and creating a ruckus every time he saw a cat entering the large room adjoining the house. The room was used as a store for agricultural implements, wooden planks and other nick-knacks. It was a favorite playing area for mice which attracted the cat. How could the dog be left behind? The hide and seek would start between the dog and the cat. The noise created by the yelping and barking annoyed my father and that is how “Tommy” became “Kharkoo” – the noise maker or a terrorist. In fact, the appearance of the spaniel was as a result of an act of blackmail. I’ll tell you how. I was born and grew up in a small village – Chak Number 36-37 GD in Tehsil Okahra, of district Montgomery [present Sahiwal], now in Pakistan.

I was about 7-8 years old when I got high fever with shivering. The diagnosis was not difficult. It had to be malaria. The remedy, the quinine mixture was also known. I took a sip but it was so excruciatingly bitter. I was advised to take it at one go in a gulp. I resisted the suggestion, where after my parents announced that they had no alternative but to pinch my nose tight, and when I was forced to open my mouth to breathe, the liquid would be poured into my mouth. This was to be done in my own interest, of course. I had known about this humiliating and demeaning procedure. I started howling. I was aware that my options were limited. It was then that I decided to make something out of a losing situation. I had always yearned for a pet dog. I struck the deal and gulped the obnoxious liquid.

My father had to honor the promise and after considerable effort, was able to locate the little native spaniel. I was now the proud possessor of a beautiful puppy. We became inseparable, eating and sleeping together. It would follow me wherever I went. Together, we explored the village and the homes of families known to us. When, occasionally, on the way, we met another dog, I would pick him up and hold him close to my chest. Not that he was afraid of bigger dogs, but because he was only too ready to fight them. We indeed enjoyed ourselves.

But then it was time to move on. The village maulvi ji had been teaching me Urdu and I learnt as much of arithmetic as I could then from Pandit Nand Lal. The benign faces of both these venerable teachers supporting beards are still fresh in my memory. I was, thenceforth to go to Okara to study in the Municipal Board School. Okara was the Tehsil headquarters at the distance of ten miles from my village. I left Kharkoo in the care of Fatto, but would come regularly to meet them at every opportunity.

Staying in the town was a new experience. The war had ended recently. A person read the Urdu newspapers and the political news was discussed in all seriousness. However, the cohesiveness and bonding that I had grown up with in the village was not as much evident in the town. Master Abdul Quadir with his Turkish cap and typical salwar was a respected teacher in the school, whom I still remember.

Amongst my classmates I liked Haneef the most. He was not only a serious student, but also a polite and courteous boy. We became friends. I once went with him to his home and met his mother. She was genuinely happy to meet me and pampered me with sweets and blessed me as mothers do. The only difference that I noticed then was that Haneef addressed his mother as “Ammi” whereas I used to call my mother simply “Maa” or “Bibi”. “Ammi” however appeared to be more sophisticated to me.

As time passed, the social atmosphere in general started deteriorating. The tension was palpable. There were processions with people carrying flags and shouting slogans. One day my father came and took me back to the village. I was told that I would come back to the school when the current tensions subsided. Once again I resumed my life in the village in the company of Kharkoo. The reports of rioting and killings started reaching the village. The worry and fear was evident on the faces of my elders. There was an attack on the adjoining village in which people known to us were killed.

Some days later suddenly an army truck with armed soldiers came late in the evening. We were to board it. There was utter confusion. I was told to take some valuable object and get into the truck. I thought of Kharkoo, picked him up, and holding him close to me, got into the truck. When the head count was being made before the truck was to move, I was discovered with the dog. I was ordered to throw the dog out, whereupon I started weeping. I would not loosen my hold on the dog. The matter caused a commotion but just then, one of soldiers ordered the truck to move and saved the situation for me at least temporarily. Now, when I look back, it is not difficult for me to know the meaning of the term “favourite whipping boy” as I was one at that time. The family looked at me with contempt, and all my cousins poked me in the ribs. Throughout the long journey in the cramped space, I did not relax my hold on Karkoo, except once. But that was because on the way there was a sound of a gun having been fired on the convoy and the soldiers jumped out and took up positions on the ground. It was however discovered, that the gun had accidentally gone off in another truck.

In this commotion, somehow the spaniel jumped out and stood there on the ground whining and looking back at me. A kind soldier picked it up and handed it to me. Thereafter, I found that the behavior of the people around me visibly changed as if Kharkoo had received valid travel documents. Nobody bothered me after that till we reached Amritsar. The family stayed there and the elders went looking for resettlement options. We were allotted land at a place called Tohana then in district Hisar where we were taken by train. Neither Kharkoo nor I liked the place. It was hot and with sand dunes. No greenery was to be seen for miles around. The water was brackish and had to be drawn from the community well with the help of a long rope. We had to stand in the queue for hours. But what was more galling was the attitude of the local people. They made us realize that we were not welcome. People jeered at our dress and language. We were called “refugees” which in due course derisively became “froogies” or “Pakistanis”.

Kharkoo lost his freedom to roam around. He was not allowed to move out of the house freely. It was a difficult time. We had seen better days and being big land owners had enjoyed comfort and status. The land allotted to us had no means of irrigation. It was dependent on unpredictable rain. We were not used to physical labour to cultivate the land. Therefore we needed help, which we found in a young man named Atam Prakash, nick named “Aatoo”. His family had come from Multan. He was well built and strong but we did not have to pay him much. Unfortunately he was thick in the head. Every time for anything to be got done he had to be patiently explained. On his own he could not take even a simple decision. He would go to the fields every morning with a pitcher of drinking water, and we would go with him to work. Kharkoo also would come with us. Once on a very hot summer day, Aatoo had to go alone and regretfully, we did not stop Kharkoo accompanying him. In the evening Aatoo came back carrying Kharkoo in the crook his arm saying that something had happened to the dog.

Kharkoo was dead. We learnt that Aatoo did not remember to give him water. Although Kharkoo did try diffidently to approach the water pitcher, he was repulsed by Aatoo.

I am seventy years of age now and even after all these years I often find myself thinking of Kharkoo. He had no role in the events leading to the partition of India. He was not a Hindu, nor was he a Muslim. His religion was total loyalty to his human family. He was only a dog – a dark and tan desi spaniel. And yet he too had to lose his home, and to travel to an alien arid land and to die of thirst in the desert heat.

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Theories on Pakistan's origins
Ishtiaq Ahmed

THE official position on the origin of Pakistan is something like this: Muslims are expected to lead their lives in accordance with comprehensive Islamic injunctions. For doing that, an Islamic polity is imperative. Hence Indian Muslims were bound to demand a separate state for themselves whenever an opportunity arose. The end of British colonialism provided such an opportunity and the Muslims whole-heartedly responded to the call for a separate Muslim state on the Indian subcontinent. Some versions of such theorising locate the origins of Pakistan in the arrival of the Arabs in the subcontinent in 711. Islam and Hinduism, it is argued, represent two diametrically opposite worldviews. Therefore partition was inevitable.

Another set of theories can be called 'cultural-geographical theories'. We are told that six thousand years a distinct civilisation evolved around the Indus River and its various tributaries (roughly corresponding to the present territories of Pakistan) and remained separate for most of those six thousand years from the one centred on the Indo-Gangetic plains of Northern India. The sharp contrast between them being that the Indus Valley Civilisation evolved a liberal and egalitarian ethos deriving from the influence of various unorthodox creeds and movements which during the Muslim period were blended into the mystical forms of Sufi Islam, while the rest of India was organized into an hierarchical and rigid social system which found its ultimate perfection in the Hindu caste system. Hence, when the British withdrew from South Asia the Muslims of the Indus Valley Civilisation chose to separate from the rest of India. Such a theory it may be noted has no room for East Pakistan being part of Pakistan.

Another cluster of theories deriving from Marxism, look upon the movement for Pakistan as a democratic mass movement of the oppressed Muslim community against the dominant Hindu majority. Here, emphasis is given to the head start that Hindus and Sikhs enjoyed in taking to modern education in the schools established by the British. The Muslims lagged behind and consequently the non-Muslims captured the main sectors of the emerging capitalist economy. In particular the overwhelmingly Muslim agrarian classes including various categories of peasants were deeply indebted to the Hindu and Sikh money-lenders. An ideology of popular, egalitarian Islam attracted Muslims from all segments of society and therefore the establishment of Pakistan was the culmination of a protracted struggle to liberate Muslims from the yoke of Hindu-Sikh domination.

The most famous of these Marxist theories is the one put forth by the late Hamza Alavi. He asserted that the most ardent supporters of the idea of Pakistan were not the ulema but the Muslim salariat. The salariat comprised the sizable body of modern-educated Muslims who perceived that the creation of Pakistan would drastically improve their chances of finding employment with the state than if they were not to remain a part of a united India dominated by the more economically and educationally advanced Hindu majority. Thus, it is argued, Pakistan was not established out of confessional zeal but secular concerns of the salariat.

Alavi, however, never at any stage studied the actual dynamics of the Pakistan movement after the Lahore resolution of 1940. Therefore he was completely oblivious of the fact that the Muslim League made its breakthrough in the Punjab and NWFP only when it won over the Barelvi ulema and pirs. There is solid evidence to prove that Jinnah assured the ulema that the Shariah will apply to Muslims in Pakistan.

Theories based on high politics deriving from the role of individuals in the making of history, identify the role of Mohamed Ali Jinnah as pivotal and decisive to the creation of Pakistan. Without his towering leadership, it is asserted, the movement of Pakistan would not have succeeded. No only his lieutenants and followers are portrayed as political pygmies but even his adversaries with the exception of Gandhi, perhaps, are considered light-weights. Some theories suggest that Jinnah never actually wanted the division of India and sought at most a fair share of power for Muslims in a united India and it was the Congress leaders who spurned his overtures for an accommodation within a loose federation and instead precipitated the partition because they wanted to rule India through a powerful centre. Ayesha Jalal is the main proponent of this variant of the role of individuals in history.

Other theories identify the fear of the Muslim upper classes of domination by Hindus. It is asserted that upper class Muslim leaders were not willing to accept a junior role for themselves in united India. Muslims had ruled India for more than 600 years and they could not understand why under a democratic system they should be deprived of power and influence. The veteran Khalid bin Sayeed champions such a theory.

Some theories identify a British hand in the creation of Pakistan. It has been suggested that the British were keen to use Pakistan as a base for their geopolitical and geo-economic designs in South Asia. In this regard, in a meeting held on May 12 1947 in London the chiefs of staff of various branches of the British armed forces and in the presence of Field Marshal Montgomery and Lord Ismay, it was observed:

'From the strategic point of view there were overwhelming arguments in favour of Western Pakistan remaining within the Commonwealth, namely, that we should obtain important strategic facilities, the port of Karachi, air bases and the support of the Moslem manpower in the future… A refusal of an application to this end would amount to ejecting loyal people from the British Commonwealth, and would probably lose us all chances of ever getting strategic facilities anywhere in India…. From a military point of view, such a result would be catastrophic' (Mansergh, N and Moon, P (eds), The Transfer of Power 1942-47, vol. 10. pp. 791-2).

Whatever the explanation for the origins of Pakistan, it is imperative that it becomes a state in which the rule of law and social justice prevail. For the Pakistani nation, the challenge is to look forward and not backwards.

[The writer is a professor of political science and a visiting senior research fellow at the Institute of South Asian Studies (ISAS), National University of Singapore. Email: isasia@nus.edu.sg Courtesy News Pakistan]

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