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Countering Dictatorial Absolutism through Satire—A Socio-Political study of Pakistani Television Drama Aangan Tehda.

What could be the most effective language of protest in a dictatorial, absolutist regime? The history of the world is replete with instances of authors forced into exile or simply put away by dictators to snub the voice of social discontent. The absence of social and political discourse in an absolutist regime creates a vacuum that by its nature draws unto itself the voice of social discontent and creates a language of protest. In Pakistan, during General Zia-ul-Haq’s regime, this language of protest took the shape of a subtle, understated and highly camouflaged satire that managed to hoodwink the hawk-eyed administration and reflect the popular public sentiment against the totalitarian regime. Ironically, the medium chosen by these satirists to air their views was none other than the state-owned television station. Television shows like Fifty-Fifty, Kaliyan, Aangan Tehda, Showtime etc., created a new comical satirical language that could reach the general public through this powerful medium without inviting censorship from tyrannical regime. This paper will analyze one such example of this language of protest, a satirical television series entitled Aangan Tehda that was aired by Pakistan Television in 1983.

“Satire” says Ian Jack, “is born out of the instinct to protest; it is protest become art” (qtd.in Pollard 126). The urge to protest is rooted in the tendency to mock at the follies and vices of the times and “the desire to mend the world” (Ogborn and Buckroyd 11). The world that a satirist intends to mend is not an unreal fantastic utopia, but the very real world where he lives. A satirist invariably relies on the real. The satire can target only what is real. If realism implies faithfully copying the world we know, then for a satirist working in a dictatorial regime, mocking at the world he knows is tantamount to mocking at the regime since dictatorship thrives upon absolutism and a dictator perceives everything happening in the real world around him to be in sync with his personality and policies. The absolutist regimes have always tried to channelize the people’s emotions according to their programs and policies. “Hegemonic discourse organizes its political space through the use of its rules and myths and manages to set out what is expectable, legitimate and meaningful” (Mascha 70).   The Communist government in the Soviet Union gave a dictum to the contemporary humorists: “We need healthy, positive, life affirming laughter, clearing the way to a communist future” (Ginsberg ix). The creators of a grim, humorless society demanded humor “but made to their own specifications and serving their own ends.”(Ginsberg ix) Farcical humor can be used to serve such a purpose, but for a satire to be effective, it needs to target the follies of the age and a satirist living in a dictatorial absolutist regime can do so only at his own peril.  Satire involves “a violation of the rule”(Eco qtd. in Mascha 69); the “rule” in an absolutist regime is defined by prohibition and censorship. “The elements that are censored or prohibited by the official discourse and all the space that is occupied by unsayable words or pictures are fruitful for a funny moment to take place” (Mascha 70). A political satirist gives words to that funny moment and we “allow ourselves the vicarious pleasure of a transgression that offends a rule we have secretly wanted to violate but without the risk.” (Eco qtd. in Mascha 70). For a satirical discourse to be meaningful, it needs to “mock the existing rule and degrade the dominant or ascendant hegemonic project.” (Mascha 70). Rapid Islamization and an attempt to link Pakistan’s identity with Arabian culture was the dominant hegemonic project in Pakistan during Zia-ul-Haq’s regime. Zia wanted to disconnect Pakistan from its South Asian reality and connect it with the unreal Islamic utopia represented by the Islamic regimes of the middle-east. But he overlooked the fact the uniformity in religious practices does not necessarily mean a uniformity in cultural practices. A Roman Catholic living in Italy may have similar religious beliefs as a Roman Catholic living in India but they as much culturally apart as Rome and New Delhi. In his zeal to Islamize Pakistan, Zia tried to disband certain practices like kite flying, dancing, music etc. that are part of the South Asian identity of Pakistan. Through the use of subtle satire, Anwar Maqsood, the writer of the television series Aangan Tehda, successfully targeted the regime’s attempts to culturally link Pakistan with the Middle-East.

The tradition of Satire in South Asia can be traced back to classical times. Bharata, the author of the Natyashastra, a classical Sanskrit text on dramaturgy, has mentioned Prahasana as a distinct variety of drama. According to Bharata, “Prahasana is a kind of play that satirizes, in a comical manner, the vices of the gurus, ascetics, Buddhist monks, learned Brahmins etc. The theme and movement in the play are natural and the dialogue is witty and humorous and in everyday language” (Rangacharya, 154). The titles of some of the Prahasana plays like Dhoortasamagam (convention of fools) and Mattvilas (liquor and lust) are indicative of the satirical elements present in them.

 In the medieval times, the proponents of the Bhakti movement, and Sufism held “to every man a faithful glass” [and] copy[ed] out the follies of the age”(Vanburgh qtd. in Ogborn and Buckroyd 11). The Bhakti poets usually challenged the religious practices and societal norms. Hindu priests and the Muslim mullahs, both became the target of their satire. Kabir, for instance, mocks at the practice of Azaan where a mullah, in a high pitched voice calls the faithful to the mosque to say their prayers. He says:

Kankar pathar jod ke masjid liya banaye

Ta chad mullah bang de, kya behra hua khudaye?

(You have made a mosque out of rock and stone, but why do you shout O mullah! Is the God deaf?)

In the same vein, Kabir targets the Hindu priests when he says:

Moond mundavat din gaye ajahun na milya Ram

Ram naam kahu kya kare jay mann mein aurey kaam

(It’s been so many days since you shaved your head, still you haven’t found Ram. How can you expect to find Ram, when your heart is full of earthly desires?).

The other Bhakti poets like Tulsidas, Rahim etc., and Sufi poets like Bulle Shah are equally vehement in their denunciation of the popular religious and social practices.   

A distinguishing feature of the South Asian satire has been the generality of its tone. An individual was rarely the subject of satire. The social, economic and religious institutions were satirized upon and personal lampoon was avoided. Unlike the political environment of eighteenth century England which provided fertile grounds for personal satire, the absolutist, monarchy-controlled political environment of South Asia was largely responsible for the emergence of the proper satire characterized by the “generality of reflection” (Johnson qtd. in Pollard 3). Since any semblance of directness would have invited immediate persecution, the South Asian satirists used an indirect expression and subtle tone combined with a poignant, well whetted wit to target the political personalities and institutions. The totalitarian regimes of successive monarchs in the sub-continent hardly allowed for any voice of dissention. This absolutism created a satire that was visible only to the discerning eye and was well camouflaged with wit and humor. In his ghazal Kitna Totey ko Padaya (how I tried to teach the parrot), The poet laureate in Mughal emperor Bahadur Shah Zafar’s court, Muhamad Ibrahim Zauk, satirized the emperor’s vain attempts at writing verses by comparing the emperor to a parrot who can at best only mimic his tutor, and lacks any semblance of originality (Anand 172). But Zauk is careful enough to hide his criticism under the garb of a social commentary which seems to be directed at the rapidly advancing British influence and the decline of Mughal traditions of civility and courtesy. Nazir Akbarabadi, who remained on the fringes of Urdu poetry for a long time owing to the dominance of Mir, Ghalib and Zauk trinity, has effectively used satire to expose the weaknesses of the Mughal administration. In his lyric, Khushamad, Nazir targets the officials who have gained prominence solely on the basis of sycophancy:

Aish Karte hain vahi jinka khushamad hai mizaj

Jo nahi karte ve rehte hain hamesha mohtaj (Akbarabadi qtd in Tanvir 61)

(The sycophants enjoy all the luxuries, whereas those who lack this quality are reduced to being paupers.)

In the post-partition era, Pakistan witnessed an absolutist regime under General Zia-ul-Haq, who assumed power on 5^th of July, 1977 after deposing Prime Minister Zulfikar Ali Bhutto in a bloodless coup. Having military dictators at the helm of country’s affairs wasn’t anything new for the people of Pakistan. Pakistan had its first dictator in the form of General Ayub Khan who remained in office from 1958 to 1969. His successor Yahya Khan became president on 25^th of March 1969 and his rule came to an end in December 1971 following the creation of Bangladesh. The fall of Yahya Khan brought democracy back to Pakistan. Zulfikar Ali Bhutto first became the president of Pakistan in 1971, and then, after the general elections of 1973, became its ninth prime minister.

After the successful coup of July, 1977 and the prompt execution of the “judicial murder” of Bhutto in April, 1979, Zia unleashed an absolutist Islamist regime that was to rule Pakistan for more than a decade. By turning to Islam, Zia “sought to make a hegemonic Islamic society, the pillar of the state” (Talbot 245). In his first televised speech he declared that “Pakistan, which was created in the name of Islam, will continue to survive only if it sticks to Islam. That is why I consider the Islamic system as an essential prerequisite for the country” (Talbot 251).  Zia, thus exposed the people to the Islamic as well as military absolutism. He “(banned) all political parties and (public) meetings. Rigid censorship was also introduced, and editors of defamatory publications could now be punished by ten lashes and twenty five years of rigorous imprisonment” (Talbot 259). These developments prompted the satirists to create a language of protest that could reach the public without offending the powers that be. In his 13-part television series, Aangan Tehda, Anwar Maqsood created such a language by using the standard elements of satire such as irony, wit, humor and allegory, camouflaged under the insignificance of the everyday happenings in a typical Pakistani middle class household. To achieve his purpose, Anwar Maqsood very subtly introduced the elements of the Absurd in the reality of Aangan Tehda. The narrative in Aangan Tehda is realistic, the characters and the storyline are believable since they are commonplace rather than extraordinary. The dialogue uses a language that is “functional rather than poetic, accessible rather than elevated or ornate….and aims to accurately represent the real life it draws upon” (Earnshaw 140). However, the elements of the Absurd can be traced in Aangan Tehda since the cause and effect do not explain everything and although the play seemingly moves in real time and space, it can easily be put in no time and no space. By doing so, Anwar challenges the limits of the realistic drama, effectively exposing its inadequacy as a means of depicting the senselessness inherent in Zia’s Islamist regime.   Aangan Tehda remained on air for only one season and within that season, it managed to ridicule and expose almost everything that Zia’s dictatorial regime stood for. On the face of it, Aangan Tehda, like the popular American sitcom Seinfeld, looks like a show about nothing. In the lives of its protagonists, Mehboob Ahmed and his wife Jahanara, nothing happens. Mehboob is an ex-weatherman who passes his time listening to classical music and Jahanara is a typical middle class Pakistani housewife who spends her time cooking food, sewing petticoats, and fighting with her husband. The other major characters include Akbar, Mehboob Ahmed’s servant, Chaudhary, their neighbor, who is a rich businessman and Chaudhary’s sister Sultana, who is a widow.

Anwar Maqsood makes his intentions clear at the very beginning. The play opens with Akbar sitting at a corner shop chatting with Chaudhary’s servant. Akbar tells him that that he wasn’t always a domestic servant. He used to be a classical dancer who became unemployed owing to the closure of the academy. This is an obvious reference to the P.I.A. Arts Academy in Karachi that was forced to close down following the implementation of the Islamic law or Nizam-e-Mustafa in Pakistan. “In his zeal to link Pakistan culturally and politically with the Middle-East,” says Sheema Kermani, “Zia disbanded Arts council and implicitly termed dance un-Islamic and rendered the classical dancers jobless .” Payal, the classical dance programme on Pakistan Television was banned. The decade of the eighties saw a number of performing artists leaving Pakistan for better prospects abroad. Anwar Maqsood once met one such jobless dancer and jokingly offered him a job as a domestic help. However, the predicament of this dancer inspired him to write Aangan Tehda. In a bold move, Anwar Maqsood opens his drama with an out-of work male classical dancer. Jahanara repeatedly makes fun of his girlish gait and forces him to walk properly. The physical representation as an out of sync male conforming to the gay stereotype satisfies the Islamic fundamentalist, who sees in Akbar a justification of the implementation of the Sharia. At the same time, for a moderate, Akbar is the representation of the cultural assault that threatens the South Asian identity of Pakistan and aligns it with the Middle-East. Like satire, the tradition of dancing in south Asia can also be traced back to classical times. The Sama Veda deals extensively with the subject of music and dance. The Natyashastra too provides the details of various dance forms. Even during the medieval times, when South Asia was under Muslim rule for more than eight hundred years, the classical as well as folk dances not only continued to flourish, but new forms of classical dances also evolved. The Mughals, barring the exception of Aurangzeb, encouraged dancing in their courts and Kathak dance owes its origins largely to the Mughal patronage. Thus Zia’s assault on dance and other art forms did not find favor with the people of Pakistan as it negated their South Asian cultural identity.

   In the next scene, we find Mehboob Ahmed rehearsing a political speech as he is seeking election to the city council. Akbar is busy feeding the pigeons that Mehboob keeps as pets. Mehboob’s speech is interrupted by the entry of Jahanara who rebukes Mehboob at his foolish attempts to become a councilor and orders Akbar to go the kitchen. The scene establishes Jahanara’s character as a dominant force in the house. Jahanara’s and Mehboob’s witticisms in this scene set the tone of the play. Within this seemingly innocent war of words between husband and wife, Anwar Maqsood very subtly introduces a powerful symbol of defiance against the Islamist regime—the pigeons.

The most visible impact of Zia’s Islamist regime was the imposition of Sharia law and the confrontation between the “state’s legalistic imposition of Islam and the humanist tradition of Sufism” (Talbot 251). Sufism, since its advent in the medieval times, has always been an integral component of the regional and cultural identity of the people of the sub-continent. Sufi saints are revered by Hindus, Muslims and Sikhs alike and Sufi shrines are thronged by people of all faiths. The first confrontation between Zia’s brand of Islam and Sufism occurred in 1981, when he banned the practice of kite-flying and pigeon-flying terming them un-Islamic as “they violated the sanctity and privacy of women” (Talbot 251). Since “the keeping of pigeons was associated with many great Sufi saints and was the familiar feature of the leading shrines” (Talbot 251), this ban faced a stiff challenge from the custodians of these shrines forcing the authorities to withdraw the ban. Within the first five minutes into the first episode, Anwar Maqsood slips in this symbol of hardliners’ defeat and persists with it throughout the season.  Pigeons not only continue to appear consistently throughout the series but also play a significant role in one of the later episodes.

According to Arthur Pollard: “the essence of the successful satire (is) to get your victims hopping mad and your audience laughing their heads off” (12). But the writers living in an absolutist regime cannot afford to have their victims “hopping mad” since jokes, satires and witticisms can exact severe penalties. Dictatorial regimes all over the world, be it the Nazi Germany, the iron curtain Soviet regime, Franco’s Spain, Saddam’s Iraq or Zia’s Pakistan have used press censorship, extra-judicial trials, secret police, etc. to snub the voice of social discontent in all its forms, satire being no exception. So, the writers can either criticize the regime at their own peril or they may do so while living in exile in some safe country.  So while Stephen Colbert can launch an satiric attack on George W. Bush in the latter’s presence and with “tongue firmly in cheek praise the president for trusting his gut over the facts found in the books”(Gray 18), the Pakistani writers like Ustad Daman would be handcuffed and put behind bars for reciting his poem ‘Pakistan vich maujan hi maujan, jithe vekho faujan hi faujan’ (Pakistan is full of joy, wherever you see there’s an army convoy). The memory of Ustad Daman’s arrest was still fresh in the public memory when Aangan Tehda was telecast. Anwar Maqsood, in Aangan Tehda managed to create a language of satire that reached his audience without getting his victims “hopping mad”. He was not arrested, nor was he forced into an exile. His drama was aired by the state owned television. The audience laughed at the absurdities inherent in the plot; they laughed at pointed witticism; they also experienced a cathartic laughter at the severe criticism of Zia’s absolutist regime. Through subtle allegorical representations and refraining completely from caricature, Anwar managed to make regime look “small, inferior, despicable and comic” (Shehata 75). Aangan Tehda provided a semblance of emotional equilibrium to the Pakistani audience who were consistently at the receiving end of the cultural assault unleashed by Zia and Mullahs. Freud has explained this phenomenon in as: “When ‘external circumstances’ do not permit political criticism, jokes become especially favored in order to make aggressiveness or criticism possible against persons in exalted positions who claim to exercise authority. The joke then represents a rebellion against authority, a liberation from its pressure” (Freud qtd. in Shehata 75).

Towards the middle of the first episode, Mehboob Ahmed decides to rent out a room in his house to supplement his income. This development allows the writer to introduce a variety of characters and he uses them to comment upon the state of affairs under the dictatorial regime. Mehboob Ahmed’s first tenant is a journalist. The conversation between Mehboob and the journalist portrays the state of journalism in Pakistan during Zia’s regime where the collective voice of the secular intelligentsia was reduced to a whisper. Mehboob Ahmed enters the tenant’s room and finds him sitting on the floor.

Mehboob: Sir, why are you sitting on the floor?

Journalist: I am, where journalism is.

Mehboob: Which newspaper do you work for?

Journalist: I work for the daily Zameer (conscience).

Mehboob: Zameer is Akhlaq’s (Courtesy) paper.

Journalist: It used to be. Akhlaq died and his sons sold the paper.

The dialogue is immediately followed by a farcical situation where every member of the house starts requesting the journalist to publish his interview. This is a repeated pattern in the series; after making his comment on the contemporary political situation, Anwar immediately creates a comical situation so that only the discerning eye is able to catch the inherent satire.

Zia-ul-Haq and his absolutist regime are not the only targets of satire in Aangan Tehda. Anwar Maqsood is equally critical of the contemporary politicians. In the decade of the seventies “Pakistani politics acquired an overwhelmingly negative character, the goal being to outdo your rival by whatever means, irrespective of the impact on nation. Self aggrandizement and not public service was the result of such a system” (Ziring 170). The second, third and fourth episodes of Aangan Tehda deal primarily with Mehboob Ahmed’s election campaign and the corrupt practices that dominate the election. Mehboob finds himself stifled from all sides. Chaudhary tries to help him out of this predicament but it is with the intervention of a comedian, Lehri, that Mehboob is able come out of the maze. Once again Anwar Maqsood has shifted the attention to an issue which would find ready acceptance with the Pakistani administration. The fact that elections are nothing but a farce agrees with Zia’s rejection of political party arrangements and competitive politics. And while Zia sympathizers are enjoying the spectacle of politicians making fools of themselves, Anwar Maqsood shifts the focus to the referendum to be held in 1984. Zia tried to fool the public by proclaiming “62.15 percent voter turnout with 97.71 percent voting ‘Yes’”(Talbot 261), to Zia’s referendum proposition, thus reaffirming their faith in his leadership, although “the deserted polling stations indicated a considerably low turnout” (Talbot 261). In Aangan Tehda, the elections conclude with the observation of the comedian Lehri when he proclaims in a public meeting that: “No one’s the bigger fool than the crowd and since you too are a crowd, you are all fools.”

During Zia’s regime, the state owned television station known as Pakistan Television or PTV was the only television station in Pakistan. There were no satellite or cable T.V. channels available to the general public. The administration used this powerful medium to advance Zia’s Islamist agenda and to enhance his image as Pakistan’s savior. Television broadcasts were regularly interrupted to make way for the Azaan. The television announcers were advised to use the word Allah instead of Khuda since the former is an Arabic word for God and latter is Persian.  Tariq Aziz, the host of a popular quiz show Neelaam Ghar popularized the use of Allah Hafiz or Allah Nigehbaan as a parting greeting instead of the commonly used Khuda Hafiz. The depth of satirical language created by Anwar Maqsood can be gauged from the fact that even in this kind of an oppressive atmosphere, he not only managed to ridicule the social and political institutions, but also managed to show Zia-ul-Haq “of what species he is an ass” (Vanburgh qtd. in Ogborn and Buckroyd 11). In Aangan Tehda, the personality of Zia is represented allegorically through the character of Jahanara’s mother, Saleha Begum. Saleha Begum is an uninvited, unwelcome guest in Mehboob Ahmed’s household. As she bangs at Mehboob Ahmed’s door, announcing her arrival, Mehboob comes out, still half-asleep, and without looking at her takes her to be the cleaning woman and rebukes her for coming so early on a holiday. The scene continues in the living room where Mehboob realizes his mistake and faces a barrage of complaints from the mother-daughter duo. In the confusion that follows Saleha Begum’s arrival, Mehboob’s remark about the holiday is easily overlooked. In retrospect one is forced to think that in a household, where no one goes out to work, where everyday is a holiday, why would Mehboob create a fuss about the cleaning woman (who by the way never finds any mention prior to or after this incident) coming early in the morning on a holiday. By referring to the holiday, Anwar has subtly hinted at Saleha Begum being the allegorical representation of Zia and also at the latter’s proximity with the U.S.A. Zia assumed power on 5^th of July 1977 and owing to the eleven hour time difference it was still 4^th of July, a national holiday in the U.S.A., when Zia banged at the doors of Pakistani parliamentary democracy and announced his arrival. The allegory is made even more apparent when Saleha Begum tells Chaudhary that she can help him become the member of Majlis-i-Shura, an alternative to elected parliament, installed by Zia, who reserved the exclusive right to nominate whomsoever he deemed fit to serve the public. “The Majlis-i-Shura was an appointed, not an elected body, and its powers were defined by the presidential order that created it” (Ziring 183).Once Saleha Begum’s character as a dominant voice in Mehboob’s Aangan has been established, Anwar continues with his raillery against Zia and his regime. In a scene, Jahanara finds Akbar playing around with pigeons and asks him what he is doing. Akbar replies that he is releasing pigeons, the messengers of peace since a combative woman has arrived in the house. The episode featuring Saleha Begum includes a few scenes of eavesdropping where men-folk trying to conspire against her are caught red-handed, sometimes by the Begum herself and sometimes by her second in command, Jahanara.

 Saleha Begum’s stay in the household is marked by her repeated threats to go back to her house. Whenever she utters this threat, she has to face a barrage of witticisms by Mehboob and Akbar, who challenge her to carry out her threat. After assuming power as the chief Martial Law Administrator following the coup of 1977, Zia promised to hold elections within 90 days. “Immediately, after launching Operation Fairplay, Zia declared: ‘My sole aim is to organize free and fair elections which would be held in October this year. Soon after the polls, power will be transferred to the elected representatives of the people. I give a solemn assurance that I will not deviate from this schedule’” (Talbot 256). Zia didn’t keep his promise. “The martial law era was to be punctuated by such promises of national elections which never materialized (Talbot 256)”. In Aangan Tehda, Saleha begum comes for three months or 90 days and repeatedly promises to go back by the next train. These promises become a butt of jokes in the household, and finally when she does decide to go Akbar wants everybody to go to the station, in case she decides to change her mind. The reference to 90 days or 3 months continues in the penultimate episode, when Anwar comes to Mehboob’s house as himself. All the characters, who have been anticipating that Aangan Tehda would be extended for another season, perceive Anwar’s entry as a positive sign. But Anwar disappoints them by saying that the series was meant to run for one season, that is three months or thirteen weeks or 90 days, and time has come to take it to its conclusion to which Akbar remarks that for the first time, the three months have ended so soon. Thus once again, very subtly, Anwar hints at the unfulfilled promise of General Zia that he would hold elections within 90 days of assuming power.

Although Anwar Maqsood uses Jahanara’s mother as an allegorical representation of Zia-Ul-Haq, he doesn’t confine his ridicule to her character only. The title Aangan Tehda has been taken from a popular Hindi proverb, Naach na jane Aangan Tehda meaning that those who can’t dance, blame it on the crookedness of the dance floor. By opening the play with an out of work classical dancer, he is ridiculing the Islamists who don’t appreciate the importance of art and culture in the society. Aangan Tehda, in the penultimate episode, becomes a metaphor for Pakistan, when Mehboob questions the writer: “Why don’t you extend the drama for another season, since the Aangan is still crooked?” In the first episode, Mehboob Ahmed enters with a lota (brass tumbler) in his hand which incidentally, is also his election symbol. Lota, in South Asian literature is symbolic of someone who is unable to keep his word; someone who is not expected to be faithful to his commitment; someone like Zia, who would promise to hold elections time and again but those promises would never be fulfilled.

This is Anwar Maqsood’s language of protest. He presents the insignificant, routine mundane affairs of average citizens and slips in his puns, wit, irony and allegory. Aangan Tehda makes us laugh “because we see in it the significance of the insignificant”(Garcia 148). In Aangan Tehda, as in Absurdist drama, “The comic becomes serious, even near tragic, while the serious becomes laughable (Greenwald, Shultz and Roberto.D.Pomo 1201).” The audience that sees the real laugh comfortably and the one that sees the dark humor and the allegorical references to the absolutist regime also laugh, albeit uncomfortably. To Anwar’s credit, the line dividing the two is so blurred that he managed to slip it past the censors and put it on air. During Zia’s regime, the people of Pakistan experienced both political as well as religious absolutism. His vision of Pakistan as an Islamic state exhorted people to believe “that nothing else is right and, therefore, everyone should believe in it” (Wellwarth 301). “Everything absolute belongs to Pathology” (qtd. in Wellwarth 301),  says Nietzsche, and during Zia’s regime it were the individualists like  Anwar Maqsood, Qaiser Farooq, Farooq Kaiser, Salim Nasir and Arshad Memood  who stood up and tried to rid the Pakistanis from the pathological effects of dictatorial absolutism.   

 Works Cited:

Anand, Kaleem. Zauk Ki Shayari. Delhi: Manoj Publications, 2004.

Earnshaw, Steven. Beginning Realism. Manchester: Manchester University Press, 2010.

Garcia, Jorge J.E. “The Secret of Seinfeld’s Humor: The Significance of the Insignificant” Seinfeld and Philosophy Ed. William Irwin. Illinois: Open court Publishing, 2003.

Ginsburg, Mirra ed. The Fatal Eggs and Other Soviet Satire. New York: Grove Press, 1987.

Gray, Jonathan. “Satire TV : Politics and Comedy in the Post-Network Era.” New York: NYU Press, 2009.

Greenwald, Shultz and Roberto.D.Pomo eds. The Longman Anthology of Drama and Theater: A Global Perspective. New York: Pearson Longman, 2009.

Maqsood, Anwar. Telephone Interview. 15 December 2010.

Mascha, Efharis. “Political Satire and Hegemony: A Case of Passive Revolution during Mussolini’s ascendance to power 1919-1925.” International Journal of Humor Research 21 (2008) 69-98.

Pollard, Arthur. Satire. London: Metheun and Co. Ltd, 1970.

Ogborn, Jane and Buckroyd, Peter. Satire. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2001

Rangacharya, Adya trans. The Natyashastra, English Translation with Critical Notes. New Delhi: Munshiram Manoharlal Publishers Pvt Ltd, 1999.

Shehata, Samer S. “The Politics of laughter: Nasser, Sadat, and Mubarek in Egyptian Political Jokes.” Folklore 103,1 (1992) 75-91.

Talbot, Ian. Pakistan a modern history. New York: Palgrave Macmillan, 2005.

Tanvir, Habib. Agra Bazaar. New Delhi: Vani Prakashan, 2004.

Wellwarth, George. The Theatre of Protest and Paradox: Developments in the Avant Garde Drama. New York: New York University Press, 1971.

Ziring, Lawrence. Pakistan at the Crosscurrent of History. Oxford: Oneworld Publications, 2003.

Existence

Hues of life black, white 
With shades of grey 
And a silky path where barren woods abound 
With nothing audible 
But an eerie silence 
The silence... 
Waiting for us to decide and produce 
A sound to break its deafening monotony 
The blind turn, the slippery road 
And the spikes worn out 
Going down the dungeon of abyssymal depth 
Trying to get a foothold 
Latching on to the wild overgrowth 
But nothing on the hands 
Except drops of soiled dew 
The abyss never ends 
The darknes never goes 
Something inside grows 
A hope, A fear 
The struggle goes on... 

Release of the Komagata Maru Commemorative Stamp

On 23rd of May 1914, A Japanese Ship by the name of Komagata Maru came to the shores of Vancouver carrying 376 immigrants from India. The passengers had all the legal rights to enter Canada since Canada was a British colony and all the passengers were British Subjects. The immigration authorities however, refused to let them enter and tried everything to force the ship out of Canadian waters. A lengthy legal battle ensued for two months during which the British Columbia government denied basic amenities like food and water to the passengers. The court ruled in favour of the government and the ship was forced to go back to India.

When the ship reached India on September 29th, 1914, the British troops, fearing that the ship was carrying revolutionaries and seditious material, opened fire on the passengers killing 20 of them. There was horrible violence in Vancouver following the Komagata maru incident, The Indians living in Vancouver extracted revenge by killing immigration officer William Hopkinson and his stooge Bela Singh. Bela Singh had earlier opened fire in the Vancouver Sikh Temple killing two Sikhs and injuring eight others. The violence ended when Mewa Singh, the killer of Hopkinson was hanged on January 15, 1915. 

One Hundred years after the incident, the Canadian Government has recognized the rights those passengers by releasing a stamp in their honour. Throughout the year there were a number of events held to commemorate the tragedy.

The last major event in this series is the performance of my play "That Land Beyond the Waves" on November 1 and 2 at the City Hall auditorium in Abbotsford. This is the first full length play written on the subject and probably the first ever performance of an English play in the lower mainland.

For more on the subject of Komagata maru please click on the following links:

http://www.lib.sfu.ca/help/subject-guides/anthropology/komagata-maru-website-guide    

http://blogs.ufv.ca/indocanadianstudies/2014/01/29/centennial-year-of-komagata-maru-launched-at-sikh-heritage-museum/

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=On_EDTjSW0Q

Wal-Mart is coming to India—so what are you gonna do about it?

Almost two weeks ago, on 16^th of September, 2012, the government of India led by economist Prime Minister Manmohan Singh took the decision to allow foreign direct investment (FDI) in multi-brand retail. This decision follows weeks of speculation where the Prime Minister repeatedly made the statement that some tough decisions will have to be taken in order to rejuvenate the sluggish economy. For two years in a row the UPA government has fallen short of its projected growth target of 8% and the growth figures have hovered around the 5% mark. The government that is not only responsible for this decrease in growth rate but also for high inflation and a series of multi-billion dollars corruption scandals, is now trying to project FDI in retail as a sweet pill that will cure our ailing economy and improve the lot of the common man, who has been reeling under soaring prices of everyday commodities for more than three years now. Since Wal-Mart is arguably the biggest player in multi-brand retail, this decision is generally being perceived as one that would facilitate the entry of this retail giant in India.

The UPA government tried to bring this issue in the parliament last year as well but owing to strong opposition from its allies as well as from the opposition, it deferred it till a consensus could be evolved. However, it didn’t do anything to make the public and its representatives aware of the benefits of FDI in multi-brand retail in India so that a consensus could be evolved. Rather, the government, with an attitude that smacks of arrogance, imposed this decision on the Indian population without feeling the need to justify or clarify or elaborate upon the pros and cons of it. And quite unexpectedly this decision has brought all the opposition parties together and they have taken to the streets to protest against this decision and at the same time to educate the masses of the grave repercussions of this decision. The government claims that this decision will benefit the farmers and that it won’t have any adverse effect on the small time corner shop retailer. The opposition on the other hand is busy in the streets warning the public that the entry of retail giants like Wal-Mart will facilitate the exploitation of farmers and will force the small time retailers out of business. The Indian media, for the last fortnight has discussed nothing but the impact of FDI on common man. I have been following these debates consistently and unfortunately, although not surprisingly, barring a couple of anchors, Ravish Kumar on NDTV being one of them, the debates have generally focussed on the political rhetoric and very few statistical realities or research based studies have been put forth to educate the public. I am going to discuss some of the major issues raised in these debates and try to provide some ground level realities that political rhetoric tries to ignore as per its convenience.

Will this decision benefit the Farmers?

The agro-based economy of India has a unique distinction of being a leader in farmer suicides. According to National Crime Record Bureau Data (2009), 216000 farmers committed suicides between 1997 and 2009. With the size of land holdings shrinking with every generation and the input cost of agricultural increasing with every passing year, it is becoming increasingly difficult for the farmers to make ends meet. So how is the FDI going to help solve this solution? Will it do something to lower the input cost? For instance, provide cheaper seeds to the farmers or help them with some superior quality fertilizer at subsidized prices; or maybe miraculously increase the size of their land holdings? “No,” says the government,” but it will provide a fair price of their produce, build infrastructure like cold storage etc. to minimize wastage so that the farmer can get the maximum return for his investment. In the current scenario, the farmer generally sells his produce in the mandis through a middlemen or the arhatiyas who take his stock on as is where is basis. Will Wal-Mart do the same? No. It will grade the produce and will pick up only the high grade produce leaving the farmer to take care of the rest at his own expense. So, while there is no decrease in the input cost, the farmer will be left over with the low grade produce and he will now have to find means to dispose it off. The government says the farmer will still have the option to go to the mandis, but does it really want us to believe that the corporate giant will let the mandis retain their current status where they are run through individual entrepreneurship? With its millions of dollars, how difficult it will be for Wal-Mart to take control over the mandis and thereby bring in its corporate culture in them.

So, is corporatization of mandis a bad thing? Instead of the filth-ridden stinking places that they are nowadays we’ll have clean, air-conditioned, glass-walled places where the farmer will bring his produce. Is there something wrong with this image—the Farmer bringing his produce in a multi brand high tech wholesale market? But who is buyer here? It will be a monopolized setup where the Farmer will not have any choice but to sell his produce at whatever price he is offered. How will it benefit the farmer, I fail to understand.

But the fact remains that the farmers are committing suicides and something needs to be done. But Wal-Mart is not the answer. Lowering the input cost is the answer. Providing them the benefits of the agricultural research so as to increase their inputs is the answer. Making infrastructure like better roads and cold storages is the answer. Shall the government of India, look up to companies like Wal-Mart to build cold-storages? Will such companies build cold-storages for the benefit of the farmers? Has our economist Prime Minister forgotten that profit is the only driving force behind any corporate decision and social welfare is nowhere on their agenda? What the Indian farmers need is pro-active support from the government and not the escapist approach that this government is adopting.

Does Wal-Mart sell only farm produce?

The government is trying to project Wal-Mart as a company that primarily sells farm produce, whereas the fact is that farm produce is a small segment of Wal-Mart’s operations. It sells everything from match-boxes to watches and from clothes to cosmetics. Who will supply this stuff to Wal-Mart’s stores in India? The agreement says that Wal-Mart or such companies will have to use 30% of their investment to buy retail brands from Indian companies. Sounds good. This means that our manufacturers will benefit from this since it will provide them with a ready market. But there’s a catch and that be explained by simple Arithmetic (I have been listening to Bill Clinton lately) :

Suppose Wal-Mart spends Rs. 100 annually

As per agreement it should spend Rs 30 on Indian brands

Where will it spend the remaining Rs. 70? On Chinese or some other cheaper brands.

Since Indian brands are costlier (thanks to high interest rates and high rates of power) than Chinese or say Philipino brands the amount of products that Wal-Mart will buy with Rs. 30 in India will be less than the products that it will buy with the same amount (Rs. 30) from other countries.

So Rs. 30 = say 10 Indian products on Wal-Mart’s shelves.

     Rs 30 = 20 Chinese products on Wal-Mart’s shelves + Rs 40 = another 25 products.

This means for every ten Indian brands on Wal-Mart’s shelves there will be at least 45 brands from China. And is there a brand protection or commodity protection guaranteed? No. Indian soaps will be competing against Chinese soaps which will be cheaper. So how can the Indian brands survive?

1.     By lowering the wages of already underpaid workers.

2.     By resorting to power theft or some other corrupt means to lower the production cost.

3.     Outsource their operations to China.

This simple calculation exposes the myth of the so called protection given to Indian manufacturers.

Will Wal-Mart put the neighbourhood shopkeeper out of business?

A lot of space in the opposition’s rhetoric has been occupied by the fear that the entry of Wal-Mart will force the neighbourhood shopkeeper to close his shop. By a rough estimate approximately 60 to 80 million people are directly or indirectly involved in small time grocery business. What will happen to them once these corporate giants occupy the retail market? They cite the examples of certain cities in the Western world where such mom and pop stores have gone out of business due to the entry to companies like Wal-Mart. Sadly this argument is as much devoid of facts and logical thinking as the pro-FDI arguments provided by the government. First of all, don’t you get a sense of déjà vu here? Didn’t we hear this rhetoric about a decade ago when the government allowed Indian corporates to open retail outlets? Weren’t there dharnas and protests against stores like Reliance Fresh? The small shopkeepers felt threatened then also or were at least made to feel threatened by the politicians. How many of them closed shop? No one as far as my personal experience is concerned and despite my best efforts I haven’t come across any study taken by anyone to analyze the impact of corporate retail on small time shopkeepers in the last decade.

People who are creating such fear psychosis are knowingly or unknowingly ignoring certain aspects of Indian retail business.

1.     Barring a small percentage of metropolitan families, Indians do not buy their groceries in bulk, the way people do in the West. Grocery shopping in Indian homes is based on immediate demand and not on the weekly or fortnightly calculations. So if my mom needs a kilo of sugar or a bag of rice, will she go to Wal-Mart? No. She’ll send her maid to the corner shop to fetch the stuff.  Let us suppose my mother changes her lifelong grocery shopping habits and decides that she’ll go to Wal-Mart every week to buy her supplies. Let’s us do simple maths and see if it makes economic sense.

Distance of Wal-Mart store from my house=7 Kms (conservative estimate)

To and fro Cab charges = Rs. 280

Average Weekly Grocery bill for a family of 4 people=Rs.1200

If the person goes by his own car then cost of petrol=Rs. 100 plus Rs.30 parking=Rs 110

Time spent in shopping = 2 hours

So Wal-Mart will have to provide a minimum of 10% (if mom learns to drive) or about 25 % (If she takes a cab) discount on every item to make it worth her effort and that too if decides to change her grocery buying habits drastically. With an average of 11 cars per thousand persons in India, I don’t see any reason for the local shopkeeper to fear.

2.     As far as the comparison with Western cities is concerned, the opposition is again conveniently ignoring the fact that the base of Indian middle class is swelling with every passing day. This continuous upward economic movement of population fills the gap created by the upward movement of its predecessors. So if Wal-Mart attracts some customers, there will be new customers to take their place and local shopkeeper’s business will not close down. Here’s an example—in the last two decades, thousands of families from the old, walled city of Amritsar have moved to the suburbs. So, does that mean that the old city has become a ghost town? No. It is as abuzz with activity as it has always been. The people who earlier used to live on the margins have bought those houses and their houses in turn have been bought by people who were further marginalized. This continuous upward economic growth of middle class is absent in the West and there is no one to take the place of space that becomes vacant due to the movement of people. So such a comparison is outright dumb and stupid.   

Manmohan Singh’s government has decided to impose to the FDI in retail and with its characteristic arrogance seems to asking the Indian populace, “So what are you gonna do about it?” I say Mr. Singh we don’t need to do anything since through this step you have merely admitted your inability to govern this country and ironically your utter lack of sound economic vision and judgment. To the opposition, I’d like to say that if they want to gain some political mileage, then they should present the fact based realities to the public instead of hollow political rhetoric. And to my neighbourhood shopkeepers Sharma ji and Gupta ji, my advice is stop wasting your time and money in dharnas and protests and not to buy into the emotionally charged, fact-starved rhetoric of the politicians. No Wal-Mart can provide me the comfort zone and recognition that I find in your shops.

Sunny Spots in the Wilderness

This Chritmas Eve

This Christams EveA longing to belong

In this earning and spending world

With a host of insecurities

Hovering around, eerie, asphyxiatingA

nd lo! I am bestowed

With the bounty of elements

Air,Water,Sun and EarthP

rotecting, showering the blessings

Tiny droplets kiss my face

With my eyes closed

I transcend the boundaries

Of conscious and unconscious

With the protective umbrella hiding me

The child in me re-emerges

Innocence is reborn

Happy,pure, honest thoughts

Nothing to earn, everything to spend

Overwhelmed by my oneness with the elements

I find my identity, I belong.
Rajnish Dhawan