Editorial

We in Pakistan have always been enamoured with what they have written about us. Emma Duncan in 1989 literally broke the curfew and provided us a peek into our own politics that had been kept from us for over a decade due to the worst kind of censorship. Consequently, we were looking for bouts of information and Duncan adequately filled us in. We thought no outsider could do a better job of analysis of the General Zia era than us.

The era of democracy opened the floodgates and journalists and academics of all hues felt compelled to specialise in Pakistan. Obviously there were serious writings on Pakistan even before this. But somehow all the objective, dispassionate and academically sound views on history came from outside. We in Pakistan only specialised in obfuscation and distortion. We started rather early — with the father of the nation’s speech soon after the creation of this country. And we never stopped.

Somehow all Pakistani academics of worth had conducted their research in the universities abroad. Hamza Alavi, Dr Feroze Ahmad, Ayesha Jalal, you name it.

Therefore, this August 14 we at TNS thought of exploring the phenomenon in detail. What exactly do the books written by authors from outside mean to us? Do they substitute for the lack of scholarship and research that the Pakistani universities failed to evolve? Sarwat Ali sums it up with the most appropriate example of Jinnah and what we made of him in his piece.

We have focused on the books on the political history alone which we thought cover a fairly large ground. And they certainly do. Whether it’s biographies to political events like Zulfikar Ali Bhutto’s execution to Pakistan post 9/11, Pakistan does not look like a hard country to write home about.

All said and done, we do realise the best book on Pakistan has to be an insider’s job. For the best account, we may settle for fiction provided it gives us an inkling into how exactly did the mangoes explode.

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How they read us
Written & Edited by Foreign Writers What is it that sets the foreign writers writing on Pakistan apart?
By Sarwat Ali

Usually, when a foreigner writes about a society it is only a view from the outside no matter how familiar the writer may be with the inner workings of that society.

The view from the outside has its advantages, though. There are many built-in prejudices and biases taken for granted that are treated for a more objective reading by the foreign scholars. The self-righteousness of approach or sanctity of a point of view is exposed easily by an outsider that may appear as self-evident to the local scholar or does not carry the significance to stand out on its own merit. In a society like Pakistan the general tendency is to view things in black and white and it also creeps into the understanding and study of our individuals as well as society. The trend is hagiographic accounts rather than candid re-sketching of warts and the sores that a ruthless study may expose. If it involves a person, it may be considered irreverent or impolite to point the errors. There is a saying in Persian that to identify the faults of the elders is itself a fault. This premise has seeped into the way we look and assess things particularly if it involves a respected figure. Such a study if done objectively results in polarisation and can be hugely divisive in nature.

It has been very difficult for Pakistanis to write about their leaders mostly Quaid-e-Azam Muhammad Ali Jinnah for an objective account infuriates most with the possibility of a backlash always imminent by many.  No Pakistani therefore has been able to do justice to a proper biography of the Quaid and it has been left to the foreigners to write credible accounts about his life, achievements and failings. All agree that no Pakistani has been able to write a balanced book about the man who founded the nation because any truth that is unsavoury will be not read in the glow of its own light. It is easier for a foreigner to be get away with it because he lives abroad and can only be baulked at from afar.  So the best books on the Quaid have been written by foreigners because they do not carry the baggage of built in prejudices and fixity of stance. Stanley Wolpert’s account was  very candid and favourable but for his book to be imported and marketed some portions had to be edited out. Had he been a Pakistani, much more would have been at stake including his life, family and property.

The other reasons that may be cited for foreigner’s writings good books may be the more rigorous academic training that they receive in their institutions or that their publishers demand of them. The referencing and other such academic necessities are followed by them religiously for the worth of the book is always credited to the sources cited in the book. Since the analysis is based on the material presented that has to be both creditable and properly referenced.

It is easier for them living in an environment where all such sources are easy to access and then the facts marshalled. Since the entire research and academic findings operate on an industrial scale, these are much more organised, systematised and properly institutionalised; it is rare that a writer has to work in an area that is wholly undocumented. The sources to be identified and then tapped do not seem to be as onerous a task as it is here. In countries like Pakistan that thrive on an oral culture, documented referencing is a nightmare. One has to go to the primary sources all the time that though seminal are always subject to doubt.

Most foreign scholars, though not all, have a more fixed criteria on being judgemental about a society or its institutions. The criteria of right and wrong, black and white, an open or a liberal society that takes into account the human concerns are usually derived from their own understanding based on the developments in their own society. These are then insensitively applied to cultures that are very varied with different histories and stages of development. At times these injunctions appear to be naïve, at times too harsh, at times too inflexible. The entire effort at understanding society is turned into a litany of allegations as all is tarred with the same broom.

More often than not, societies other than a few fall short of the high expectations derived from the mantras these days —  democracy, human rights, civil society gender equality and freedoms of various denominations — and are thus subjected to criticism that is also biased and cannot qualify to be objective. It is difficult to assume that there is just one set of standards that societies need to follow to be called civilised.

Then there is a category of writings by journalists, particularly female journalists, who appear at moments when Pakistanis are being demonised for one thing or the other. A constant refrain in the writings on Pakistan by these white women when reporting back or compiling information for a possible book in sight have been on the lecherousness of the Pakistani men who often happen to be key players in the power politics in the country. And, these so-called leaders can go to any extent to either seek the friendship of the women or to seek sexual favours. They expose their life of luxury to them, then demonstrate their power or the extent of their power and if they find that not working, even admit to giving scraps of vital information. At the back of the mind of the all conquering and triumphant Pakistani man is the inherent assumption of their easy virtue and the right of the man to undo the woman. It is a kind of a service that he is supposed to perform for king and country. Or that the western women is falling for the ruse in the dispensation of her duty and the Pakistani strong man knows about her limitations.

These journalist types only meet a few persons, invariably the same set of people, a few politicians, army generals, king makers, media personalities and are conducted through society by that set of people. In the absence of knowing the local languages, they are just incapacitated in their movement and communication with a larger set of people.

Probably the outsider’s impression of this society is more pronounced for it may not be so dramatically weird for the locals who have grown among the apparent paradoxes and are comfortable about them rather than opting for change, abrupt change of the economic, political and social order. It is always useful to look at society from the point of view of a foreigner but place it against the local’s — theirs against us. Both present a picture that needs to be fully sketched and no matter how revealing or catchy the foreigner’s is, it still needs to be placed against a perspective.

Pride and privilege
Foreign journalists or researchers in town benefit from a hefty pool of resources, the right attitude, besides an easy access to civil
and military bureaucracy
By Aoun Sahi

Emma Duncan after spending only two years as The Economist’s South Asia correspondent in the region came out with the book, Breaking The Curfew: A Political Journey Through Pakistan, in 1989. It is considered a competent book on the ‘map of power’ to Pakistan at that time. Two years later, Christina Lamb, who was visiting Pakistan to report for The Financial Times, published what is easily one of the most popular books on Pakistan, Waiting for Allah: Benazir Bhutto and Pakistan. Another book, written by American journalist Kim Barker and titled The Taliban Shuffle: Strange Days in Afghanistan and Pakistan this year, is being discussed widely both in Pakistan and America because of its comment on Pakistani politics and its leaders. Barker wrote this book after having spent more than five years in the region as Chicago Tribune correspondent. All these books are not only considered a good reference on Pakistan for outsiders but also for the people of Pakistan.

So what is it that makes it so easy for certain outsiders (read foreigners) to have access to all the juicy material on Pakistani politics and society? As far as style goes, a lot of them are very dry, filled with factoids and bad grammar and sleep-inducing sentence structure.

“As for whether these books are better researched or detailed than books from Pakistan, it depends on the author and the book. Some of the books coming out from Pakistan are frankly much better than any from outside the country, while some are just a mishmash of recycled conspiracy theories,” Kim Barker tells TNS via email from New York.

Barker is of the view that a few Pakistani journalists have an easier access getting inside the agencies than foreign journalists, so their take on the inner workings might be better and more thorough. “But as always, it depends on the journalist!”

For her, resources also make some difference in extracting useful information and developing a good working relationship with the Pakistani elite. “Time is probably more important. Let’s face it, we use money mainly to pay local journalists for help — that’s the bulk of expenses. And local reporters don’t do that. Sure, it helps to be able to travel on stories (which costs money), but having the luxury of time on certain stories is also important.”

According to Barker, books by foreign journalists are a valuable source of looking at how others view Pakistan — they certainly add to your knowledge of what is happening inside the country. In most cases, the journalist isn’t coming with a particular political perspective, whereas the journalists from Pakistan often have a particular political or national axe to grind.

“I also think books by foreign journalists can help simplify complicated politics inside the country for an outside reader and for other countries, even though they might not be as thorough as those by Pakistani journalists. And, finally, I think foreign journalists can be less susceptible to rumour and conspiracy theory than Pakistani journalists; even though on occasion, those conspiracies can be true, they often are not,” she says.

According to Pamela Constable, senior South Asia correspondent of The Washington Post and the author of Playing with Fire, “I was asked to write [the abovementioned book] by an American publisher based on my years of visiting Pakistan as a journalist. It is a portrait of the Pakistani society today, with some historical material included. As the introduction says, it tries to describe and explain Pakistan to western readers in a very broad sense, including how people in Pakistan feel about the West, how they feel about their religion and government, and a variety of other issues. I felt it was important to try and create a better understanding of Pakistan at this time, when so much attention is focused only on terrorism and militant groups, and to give a broader and deeper perspective on the entire society.”

Having worked as a foreign correspondent in many countries since the 1980s, “I have tried my best to immerse myself in their cultures and societies, from Haiti to Argentina to India to Iraq. While it is often difficult for foreigners to understand new cultures, it helps a lot if you return repeatedly to the same places over a period of years, as I have done with Pakistan. It also helps to work with reliable translators, which I have done in many places.”

She is also of the view that foreigners sometimes “have a more balanced perspective on things when people who are deeply involved in a movement, a cause or an issue may have difficulty seeing the other side.”

Renowned Pakistani writer and journalist Muhammad Hanif says it is true that “gora journalists” have a great deal of access to our political elite, intelligence agencies, bureaucrats as well as businessmen. “This is part of our political culture to give them more access than a local journalist, but one can’t say that all books written by them are a great reference on Pakistan’s intricate politics or best sellers. Some of them are really good while others are not so good. Yes, resources and training make a difference but it boils down to what kind of a reporter you are.”

Hanif says that during the last one decade or so, many western journalists have written on Pakistan. This is an age-old tradition for foreign correspondents of western countries to write books on countries where they have spent a few years. They go back and write books about their experiences in other countries. “As far as Pakistan is concerned, before 9/11, hardly a book was written on the subject by a foreigner journalist or researcher in two or three years. But over the last ten years or so, several books are being written on Pakistan every year because a lot more western journalists have been coming in post-9/11.

“As for Indian journalists and researchers, however, they are not welcome in Pakistan,” adds Hanif. In fact, there is a kind of a quota system whereby not more than two Indian journalists can stay in Pakistan on permanent basis and vice versa. But there are exceptions, such as M J Akbar, who have written good books on Pakistan.

Language isn’t necessarily an issue. Constable points out a few barriers to speaking with ordinary people in most places. “It can be more difficult to speak with officials,” she says, “but my book dealt more with public opinion and public events. Playing with Fire is a journalistic and descriptive book. I am not an academic.”

Kristin Solberg, a Norwegian journalist, who wrote Gjennom de renes land (in English: Through the land of the pure), which is a travelogue cum series of vignettes set along the Grand Trunk Road this year, seconds Hanif’s point of view. “I do not at all think that books written by foreign journalists are necessarily better researched. As with all writing, it is difficult to make sweeping statements. There have been good books — and some not so good — published in the last few years which have been written by both foreigners and Pakistanis. Having said that, what distinguishes foreign journalists is their ability to look at events in Pakistan with an outsider’s perspective — which can be both an advantage and a disadvantage.”

Solberg, who has been working as Aftenposten correspondent in South Asia region since 2009, admits that it is easy for her to contact people in Pakistan, as Pakistanis are generally very forthcoming towards foreigners. “At the same time, as a foreigner, I also naturally lack some of the contacts and access that people who are born and bred in the country do.”

q&a
“Pakistan is unfairly scapegoated”

Ethan Casey’s inshallahs are quite endearing, and so is his unwittingly kind view of Pakistan in what must be the two rare books by any foreigner in recent times — Alive and Well in Pakistan (2004) and Overtaken By Events: A Pakistan Road Trip (2010). Seattle-based journalist, blogger and public speaker, Casey puts it down to his “stubbornly independent” nature. “I’m not really a political journalist,” he explains, “…[I am] a listener.” No wonder his books famously dwell on “conversations” with the general masses of Pakistan rather than with the military and political leaders of the country, during his almost 15 years of stay here, from 1994 to 2004 and, later, from 2008 to March 2011, earning him great reviews from such world-known writers as Bapsi Sidhwa, Edwidge Danticat, Ahmed Rashid and Mohsin Hamid. In 2003, he was also invited to become the founding faculty member of the School of Media and Communication at BNU, Lahore.

He can be reached at www.facebook.com/ethancaseyfans and www.ethancasey.com

By Usman Ghafoor

The News on Sunday: It was with what assumptions that you came to Pakistan for the first time?

Ethan Casey: I like to say that I just wandered across the border at Wagah. Really, I had become interested in the Kashmir situation and had already spent many weeks on the ground in Indian-held Kashmir before I first visited Pakistan in early 1995. This was well before 9/11, but already I felt Muslims were being unfairly scapegoated. And, in fact, while I happened to be in Lahore in April 1995, an American right-wing extremist named Timothy McVeigh blew up the federal building in Oklahoma City, and I remember vividly how many in America assumed that the perpetrators must have been Muslim extremists.

Growing up, my parents and especially my grandmother instilled in me a strong sense of fairness, and I felt and still feel that Pakistan is unfairly scapegoated because it’s a Muslim-majority country and because it chose to separate from India. This is not to excuse unjust or wrong things in Pakistani society, of course, only to say that it’s an imperfect, human society like any other. I’m glad that I first visited Pakistan before the ugly stereotypes kicked in fully, and while I was still relatively young and innocent and could see Pakistan for what it is, and for myself.

TNS: Your writings — both your newspaper columns and books — present Pakistan in a not-so-negative light. Precisely what prompts such a kind view? Does it have to do with your background/training as a journalist which would inevitably be different from that of, say, an academic/ research fellow?

EC: I do think that many American academics see Pakistan not as a country in its own right but as a policy problem for Americans to solve, to America’s geopolitical advantage or benefit. But I think that’s true of a lot of journalists also. This is not to take away from the skill or integrity or intelligence of individual practising journalists, but most American journalists are constrained by what their readers and editors want to hear. Perhaps, the difference is that I’m stubbornly independent, both by circumstance (I’ve never been paid a salary by a media outlet, except for about ten months during 1993-94 at The Bangkok Post) and by temperament. A great American novelist, Upton Sinclair, once said: “It’s difficult to get a man to understand something, when his salary depends on his not understanding it.”

TNS: Is Pakistan a difficult territory for a journalist from the West, especially one who’s coming from the US?

EC: Not if the journalist has the right attitude. I’ve always experienced extremely generous and gracious hospitality in Pakistan, in 1995 and as recently as this year. And, Pakistanis love to talk about politics. This is often to their own detriment — Pakistani society is chronically at odds with itself — but it certainly is helpful to a visiting journalist!

There are as many opinions about Pakistan as there are Pakistanis. Emma Duncan, author of the fine book Breaking the Curfew: A Political Journey through Pakistan (1989), wrote that “for a political journalist, a politicised country is thrilling”. She understood the appeal that Pakistan has for someone like her, or like me. But I’m not really a political journalist — what I really am is a listener. I’m a sucker for the many fascinating stories of personal and family history and how those have been affected, in Pakistan especially, by public events. I think sensibility of mine comes through in my books. Certainly, though, there are still many things about Pakistan that are opaque or unavailable to me.

TNS: Did you face any challenges while travelling inland from Karachi?

EC: The biggest challenge, specifically travelling inland from Karachi, was hoping we would run over reckless pedestrians or die in a head-on crash on the terrifying highway into interior Sindh! You can read about that particular day trip near the end of my book Overtaken By Events: A Pakistan Road Trip. Karachi and provincial Sindh are two areas of Pakistan that I still don’t know very well. I look forward to getting to know them better, inshallah, on future visits.

TNS: You’ve been to India as well. If you were to draw a comparison between the two rival neighbours, what would you say?

EC: Pakistan is a lot less crowded! That was my first impression of the difference. In 1995 it was very strong, immediately after crossing, coming from Amritsar to Lahore. In India, a Western visitor is either tolerated or disdained as a tourist — though I’ve been treated well in India and have friends there. In Pakistan, a Western visitor — in my experience at least — is treated as a highly appreciated guest. And all I’ve ever had to do to deserve such treatment is show up.

TNS: In your 2004 book Alive and Well in Pakistan…, you famously write about the common Pakistani as not necessarily hating America. Does that reality still hold true, in the wake of the drone attacks, the bin Laden episode etc?

EC: During my most recent visit to Pakistan, in March of this year, things did feel different. That was during the very unfortunate and ugly Raymond Davis episode, of course. It didn’t colour my personal experience or the way I was treated by people who hosted me or whom I met, but the mutual suspicion at the state level between Pakistan and the US did permeate the air of the country, so to speak. It was sad, but it didn’t damage my love or friendship for Pakistan; far from it.

In Alive and Well in Pakistan, there’s a long scene where I recount my conversations in the general enclosure at Gaddafi Stadium during a one-day Pepsi Cup match in September 2003 between Pakistan and South Africa. To me, that scene sums up how I’ve been welcomed in Pakistan as a friend and a guest.

TNS: Whereas you seem to believe that mistrust at the state level [between Pakistan and the US] continues to deepen?

EC: Certainly, it does. That’s why it’s more important than ever for individual, non-official Pakistanis and Americans to cultivate and maintain our friendships on the personal level. States come and go, and states are, as Noam Chomsky aptly put it, violent institutions. Our first loyalty should never be to a state but to humanity.

TNS: What do you have to say about Pakistan’s rather new-found civil society groups? How effective are they, in your opinion?

EC: I’m sure they’re not effective enough, but it’s very important that they exist and make their presence and priorities known. Civil society is the best thing about contemporary Pakistan, and its best hope. They’re not perfect, but then again — to put it mildly — neither are any of Pakistan’s official institutions.

TNS: Do you agree that a lot of research and analysis on Pakistan by American think-tank today looks at the country in a way so that the US can secure its own interest in South Asia using Pakistan as an ally?

EC: Yes, I absolutely agree with this. To me this tendency is not only damaging, but tedious. The real Pakistan is so much more interesting than the Pakistan that American think tanks analyse. I’m pleased to have this opportunity to tell you that I’ve contributed a chapter to a book to be published soon, edited by a serving U.S. Army colonel, Laurel Hummel, and Rick Wolfel, and titled Understanding Pakistan Through Human and Environmental Systems. Col. Hummel welcomed the chapter that I contributed, titled ‘The Pakistan That I Know’, particularly because it emphasises Pakistan as a real society that I have experienced at firsthand, rather than as a U.S. policy challenge.

TNS: Are there any issues that most foreign writers [writing on Pakistan] are ‘obliged’ to gloss/look over?

EC: Well, see my response to the second question above! I don’t know whether I have a good answer to this question, but I think that it’s a shame that more foreign writers can’t get to know Pakistan personally, as I feel I’ve been privileged to do. I’ll draw a bit of a distinction here between journalists and ‘literary’ writers, and I’ll take the opportunity to scold a writer who is actually one of my favourites, Paul Theroux. Theroux’s body of work demonstrates that it’s possible for a writer to be at once unapologetically American and genuinely cosmopolitan, and to me he’s been a very important role model in that way. But a few years ago, when he retraced the route of his classic travel book The Great Railway Bazaar to write Ghost Train to the Eastern Star, he actually skipped Pakistan entirely, even though it had been on his itinerary for the earlier book, and mumbled some lame excuses in passing about bombs and terrorists. Shame on him for that. If Pakistan is safe enough for me to visit, it’s safe enough for Paul Theroux.

TNS: What future do you see of Pakistan?

EC: Pakistan zindabad! Seriously, Pakistan and Pakistanis have an amazing talent for survival. Pakistanis are among the most resourceful people I’ve ever met, because you’ve had to be throughout the perpetually challenging history of your country. That in itself is a great resource. I love Pakistan, and I look forward to returning inshallah many times, over many years to come, come what may.

The interview was
conducted via email

Since 9/11
The existence of jihadists as a tool of foreign policy is what drives foreign writers to pick their pens, post the Sep 11 incident
By Muhammad Ismail Khan

Ten years to the global war against terrorism and there remains confusion among allies over the very issue of terrorism that was supposed to bind them together. It was on September 11, 2001, that a new chapter in international sphere started, after the terrorists diverted the hijacked planes into the United States. Since then, both the US and Pakistan, a neighbour of Afghanistan, joined hands against the menace of terrorism. Yet as things stand today, the US blames Pakistan for being half-hearted in its actions against the militants in its fold; in response, Pakistan counter-blames the US for putting its interests at the altar.

Recent events on terrorism further expose the disconnect between the two countries. Even though events like the capture of bin Laden and America’s de-linking of Taliban from al-Qaeda could be celebrated, both the countries are at odds over the modus operandi for such achievements. “Why was Pakistan not consulted before taking on al-Qaeda?” Pakistan publicly asked. For sure, those who chronicled the trail of these militants have to rest in Pakistan. Peter Bergen’s book Holy War, Inc., The Osama bin Laden I Know or Steve Coll’s Ghost Wars: The Secret History of the CIA, Afghanistan, and Bin Laden, from the Soviet Invasion to September 10, 2001, closely follows the jihadists right from the 1980s. Even if it was solely about the war in the 1980s, as in George Crile’s Charlie Wilson’s War, Pakistan is sure to be there. Back then, Pakistan remained a transit point for international jihadists with key leaders making their presence in Pakistan.

What certainly followed was that a country which was hitherto known or unknown as any other third-world country in the common parlance soon shot to global prominence. Pakistan’s responsibilities or the fear emanating from their non-fulfillment, were strictly scrutinised in international realm.

As it stands today, no comprehensive book on international security — no matter what area — can be a detailed reference to Pakistan. Here are the key issues that undercut Pakistan: multi-ethnic groups which slipped into ethnic tensions, multi-sects which saw its brutal manifestation in sectarian conflict, nuclear capability which drew international ire for being dispersed around the world, civil-military relations in an era where democracy is the pressing norm, so on and so forth.

Take the case of political Islam. The current gaze on Pakistan comes from the militant manifestation of political Islam. Many commentators would go to lengths on how religious forces within Pakistan worked on a discourse that resonated with extremist ideology. Whether it is a book on Deobandi sub sect or the political ideas of Maulana Maududi, Pakistan gets mentioned.

Moreover, since sectarianism in Pakistan is not only bottoms-up but also aligns with the top-down rivalry between Saudi Arabia and Iran, the country makes a reference one way or another.

It is to Pakistan’s myriad complexities that the country’s future trajectory draws a special interest for academia and policy makers alike. In his book The Idea of Pakistan (2005), Stephen Cohen scratches Pakistan’s problems to predict its future. His analysis of Pakistan is comprehensive and covers all the internal factors including military, Islamists, ethnicities etc.; his projection is equally based on the interplay of domestic dynamics.

With time, however, the projection is more narrowly weighed from Pakistan’s relations with non-state actors. Bruce Riedel, for one, fears diplomatic isolation, should Pakistan not be able to exterminate the militancy that hit beyond a region. In his 2011 book, Deadly Embrace: Pakistan, America and the Future of Global Jihad, Riedel spots the light on Pakistan by arguing how nearly every militant group of South Asia finds its trace inside Pakistan. The existence of jihadism as a tool of foreign policy is what warns these writers to pick their pens.

Recently, Hudson research fellow on South Asia, Aparna Pande connected the domestic to the international by arguing that Pakistan’s confusion stems from certain deep-rooted problems which haunt the state ever since its inception. Her blogs cover the gist of what many a policy makers would think about Pakistan’s foreign policy: India-centrism. In her recently published book, Explaining Pakistan’s Foreign Policy: Escaping India (2011), she goes a step ahead by arguing that the country has shifted to a “virtual relocation” discarding its shared cultural, linguistic, ethnic and historic ties with India.

The policy picture that finds flaws in Pakistan’s polity is often tested by journalists and professionals stepping in the field. For all, there remains a curiosity of digging deep into Pakistan to cover the best. While some of these books portray their adventure as bold endeavours, others set aside any notions of threat in Pakistan. For one, Ethan Casey, in his book Alive and Well in Pakistan: A Human Journey in a Dangerous Time (2004), takes a people-centric approach to Pakistan. Instead of talking about its politics, the book writes a first-person account and let the people speak — politics itself flows out of it.

The writer is a Masters in International Relations from Boston University