special
report arts Upholder
of a tradition Poor
America
special report The previously
overlooked fury in Balochistan against the mainstream media has gradually
transformed into full-fledged public expression of dissatisfaction with
how the national media covers the troubled province. Disgruntled young
Balochs blame the media, particularly the private news channels, for
allegedly building up the entire crisis in Balochistan by not objectively
and completely reporting the conflict since its inception. They say
neither are they pleased with the amount of coverage the country’s
largest province gets in the news bulletins, talk shows and documentaries
nor are they appreciative of some journalists’ pro-government depiction
of the situation in Balochistan. At the beginning of
February, this disillusionment led the Balochistan National Party and its
student wing the Baloch Students Organisation (BSO-Mohiuddin group) to
boycott the private news channels across Balochistan and Baloch-populated
parts of Karachi. While Balochi, Sindhi and Pashtu channels were exempted
from this boycott, cable subscribers in most Baloch districts did not
receive service of the news channels for several days. “The Pakistani media
discriminates the Baloch,” charged Agha Hassan Baloch, a lawyer and
BNP’s information secretary, “everyday, young Baloch activists are
being killed and dumped by the security forces but there is a total
blackout of news from Balochistan.” Hassan complains that
stations promptly flash “breaking news” tickers out of unimportant
events taking place in principal cities but more urgent reports from
Balochistan entailing human rights, suffering and poverty even do not
manage to get listed on the news rundown. Unanimous protests In October 2010, the
Azad faction of the BSO, which calls for Balochistan’s independence,
asked the people of the province to stop reading newspapers printed from
Lahore, Karachi and Islamabad because, it said, they did not contain
sufficient account of the military operation and disappearances of
nationalist leaders. The BSO eventually ended its boycott after assurances
from journalists’ bodies in Quetta that their concerns would be conveyed
to the publishers of newspapers living outside Balochistan. As the indifferent
policies of the national media toward Balochistan remain unchang-ed,
methods of protest are becoming harsher by the day. For instance, on
February 22, a Lahore-based daily reported the burning of its newspaper
bundle in Quetta by some ‘unidentified people’ who had also
interrupted the distribution of the channel’s programmes in Balochistan.
This reactionary attitude did not come out of blue. Sources in Quetta say
a talk show, run on a news channel owned by the same newspaper’s
publisher, had been used as a platform by a leader of General
Musharraf’s Awami Pakistan Muslim League to incite the killing of a
notable Baloch political leader, besides calling him a “donkey” and
“stupid” in a live talk show. The talk show host, on the contrary,
defended the abusive guest by calling his views “valid” which further
incensed the supporters of the Baloch leader. The three political
groups cited above, which have protested against the media at different
times, represent totally divergent schools of nationalist thought. Yet,
they collectively share the same grievance that there is not ample and
accurate reporting of Balochistan. This feeling has gone down and made
them feel as if the media is responsible for the ignorance of the rest of
the country about Balochistan and lack of corrective political measures on
behalf of the government policymakers. Total blackout The blackout of news
from and about Balochistan is now being viewed as an integral part of the
broader conflict. This phenomenon dates back to the history of print
journalism in the province. Local newspapers never thrived in Balochistan
because of several factors. First, dearth of advertisement revenue because
of the absence of manufacturing industries and private companies dissuaded
newspapers owners from launching papers in the province. Second, the vast
terrain, scattered population and poor road infrastructure further
prevented the timely dissemination of newspapers across the region. Above
all, widespread illiteracy in the province made newspapers a less
appealing medium as compared to radio. Up till now, not a
single major news channel or publication has its headquarters in
Balochistan. With the exception of a few, most media outlets even do not
have bureau offices in a province which is believed to have perhaps the
highest number of untold stories. All sides of a story do not reach the
audience because all media organisations do not have paid reporters in
Balochistan’s remaining 29 districts. Reporting about Balochistan takes
place from Quetta, the provincial capital. While an opportunity to travel
inside Balochistan is rare for the Quetta-based correspondents who are
oftentimes overburdened with work because of small teams, funds for travel
and investigative assignments is another improbability. The Balochs grumble
about the lack of representation in media outlets. Many national and
international media organisations such as the BBC, the Voice of America,
DawnNews, The News International, Geo, Associated Press of Pakistan etc.
do not have Baloch correspondents who should be able to speak the local
language and report about the problems faced by people living in rural
areas. Likewise, head offices
provide funding to their senior correspondents when they have to cover an
election or a natural calamity such as floods and earthquakes. Ironically,
the only occasion when a large number of reporters from “big cities”
get an opportunity to see the province is when the Inter-Services Public
Relations (ISPR) or Frontier Corps (FC) embeds them to show some
“positive development” work done by the military. Such tours are
normally a futile exercise as the embedded journalists do not get to see
the full side of the picture. In fact, their
predictably appreciative post-trip write-ups of the military are the only
outcome of such large gathering of reporters. But this is what these
official trips on C-130 planes are intended to achieve. New media Protests against and
boycott of the national media indicates the increasing awareness among the
nationalist groups about the significance of the use of media to promote
their objectives. Despite the intensification of the conflict, Balochistan
has not been an attractive destination in terms of making money for media
tycoons who have refrained from establishing studios or printing presses
in Balochistan. Similarly, correspondents from other provinces even do not
get an assignment or a fellowship from their papers to spend some months,
instead of days and weeks, in Balochistan to develop a better sense of the
local culture and aspirations. Paradoxically, the news
from Balochistan has started reaching out to a larger audience because of
social media and blogs. Nationalists use the internet to spread their
message. Although the government has restricted access to hundreds of
websites and blogs, social networks like Facebook, Twitter and YouTube
have become an effective and popular source of educating the people living
outside Balochistan to make better sense of things. Some popular Baloch
online sources include Crisis Balochistan, the Baluch, Baloch Unity,
Baloch Warna and Baloch Voice. Social media and online
journalism is a good way to instantly share information but it is still
not a right replacement for explanatory, investigative and objective
journalism, which is needed to see all sides of the Baloch picture. People
in rural areas still do not have access to the internet and they largely
depend on news channels and radio shows. In order to better
understand Balochistan and its people, there is an immediate need to
invest in developing the capability and capacity of the local media and
journalists. Entrepreneurs should be willing to experiment initiatives,
such as locating the headquarters of channels to the province, hosting
talk shows from Balochistan and widening Balochistan’s share of air time
in order to give the Baloch a sense of ownership and participation in the
news industry. Government’s neglect of the province’s issues is not as
dangerous as is the negligence of the national media. The
writer is the editor of The Baloch Hal, and resides in Washington DC
To use a crude analogy,
being at one’s own exhibition is like taking bath in public. It is at an
exhibition that the artist allows the viewers to look at, comment on and
judge what is presented to them. The relation between the
audience and the artist is peculiar and keeps shifting. Artists produce
their work — complete and resolved — in the solitude of the studio but
once it is open for public, the interaction with the spectators may guide
the artist to make changes; if not there, then may be at a later stage. So, in a way, the
viewers also participate in finalising the work. If not in the realm of
actuality, it happens in the process of decoding and deciphering the
artwork. A book is not complete, or does not exist, till it is read. Each
new reading infuses new meaning into the text. Likewise, artworks are open
for interpretation and keep changing their content with every new twist in
the context. For instance, a painting may be seen as a record of
environment and social life at the time of its making, but is studied for
its stylistic sophistication later. Or a canvas made to evoke spiritual
emotions is later appreciated due to its formal qualities. Thus the consumer of an
artwork is not a passive participant but an important factor in shaping
the work. The significance of reader or viewer has been a favourite
concept with philosophers and cultural theorists like Barthes, Foucault
and Eco. Apart from thinkers, artists too believe in the role of receivers
because a maker becomes the first receiver/reader of their work. In that sense, creating
a work of art is like forging a mirror in which not only the maker
recognises himself but everyone who looking finds his or her image and
situation reflected in there. However that mirror is tilted and tainted in
such a way that the image a person perceives not only consists of him and
his surroundings but that of the maker’s too. Thus works of art serve as
a merging field, in which two entities intermingle and exist
simultaneously. The world of cinema is an apt example of this interaction.
When a spectator watches a movie, he is so immersed in the story, events
and actors, that he glimpses two realities at one point. On the screen, he
sees the actor performing a role according to the script but he also
identifies with that character or condition. He cries, laughs, shouts,
agitates and sometimes physically moves in tune with the imagined
character — projected larger than life on the screen. Ditto for
literature where the reader associates with the protagonist. This interplay of image
and its recipient, explored by many artists in the past, was explored yet
again by Saira Sheikh in her recently concluded solo exhibition titled
‘Mirror Mirror on the Wall’, at Rohtas 2. The limitation of and
difference between the two entities which is important both for and in an
artwork was experienced physically as well as conceptually. A day prior to
the opening of her exhibition, the artist posed in front of a selected
audience comprising artists of different genders and generations. Sheikh
was standing like a model from nude anatomy class as others drew her on
large scale papers. These drawings or life studies were part of the show,
along with the easels, stands, stools and a few drawing materials and
tools inside the gallery. The most significant inclusion was the mark of
her feet in white chalk on the floor, a usual custom for an anatomy
drawing session, so the model must keep one position after taking a break.
On the day of the exhibition, the absence of the model was like a
prominent presence. Saira Sheikh plays a
conceptual trick through her intention and act of switching identities
because, in the exhibition, when a person looks at the work made either by
Farida Batool or Huma Mulji a day before, he is perplexed about the
authorship of that drawing — is it by the individual who physically
executed it or the person who perceived and planned it? This conflict was
initially encountered by those who were invited to make drawings. They
were looking at the model, who was not a model, but the artist. The first
question that comes to their mind is: so is the artist the art object or
the subject. The perpetual shift in the relationship and balance between
the maker and the viewer was extended during the show since the viewers
were seeing works by Saira Sheikh, except that those were ‘made’ by
her contemporary artists. Invoking these questions
about the authenticity of an art work, its authorship, and the
relationship of a viewer to the object of art was like gazing at the
mirror. These led to the basic existential query, about what we are,
whether we have a uniqueness about ourselves or is it just a different
composition of outside influences and components. Because when a person
faces the mirror, he is looking at himself but that resemblance is just an
illusion — a two-dimensional or one-sided representation of what he is
in totality. And that totality consists of various other elements. In that sense, one can
not detach one’s self from the others. Although in her exhibition Sheikh
did put a structure, which was a mirror from outside and transparent glass
from inside, the drawings of her figure were testimonies of how the self
was presented as the Other. She portrayed her full figure like one draws a
body in an anatomy class. The act of drawing one’s full figure on a life
scale must have been challenging but the real issue was how to perceive
one’s own body as seen by an outsider. Sheikh dealt with this
in more than one way. Her depiction of her own self, from odd angles, and
in detailed rendering, could not have been classified as great pieces of
(naturalistic) drawings, except one in which multiple views were infused
into a single form. But the act of detachment first at her studio and the
later split of the self orchestrated at the gallery was more significant
and crucial in order to comprehend the main concerns of her art and of our
times and place. Actually, her whole work
was designed and destined to end up in the form of ideas; because it is
the idea that is more permanent and public than the physical object.
Naseem Akhtar who died
last week was quite popular in Southern Punjab and Upper Sindh. She also
suffered from the limitation of artistes from cities other than Lahore,
Karachi and Islamabad. These artistes are not that well-known and languish
on the margins of recognition and popularity. Though some of them are very
popular, their popularity is restricted to the area where they are born
and hence practice the forms identified with that particular region. This has always been the
problem with people hailing from the so-called mofussil areas. It is a
familiar journey from the village to the big city of the region and then
eventually to Lahore. In undivided India, it used to be village to the
nearby capital of the princely state or in the later period to Lahore and
then to Calcutta or Bombay. Now in a global world artistes from regions
around the world want to be recognised in cities like London, Paris and
New York. An exodus takes place to the artistic capitals of the world
where these artistes wait for their big opportunity and lady luck to
smile. When Naseem Akhtar was
recommended by some to be invited to perform at the All Pakistan Music
Conference in Lahore many years ago, some among the management and even
serous listeners asked, “Naseem Akhtar who?” She came and she sang,
and in the following years continued to perform despite news and rumours
of ill health. The musicians in
particular have to face great hardships. In the face of poverty and poor
living conditions, most fall victim to various diseases that are related
to poverty and unhygienic living conditions. Naseem Akhtar, too, did not
live a live of ordinary comfort and had to struggle to make two ends meet. Things have changed now
to some extent. It was Aslam Ranjha, the grand connoisseur of music who
travelled far and wide to quench his thirst for music,who discovered
Pathaney Khan singing kaafis in his inimitable style on some shrine and
brought him to Lahore. And an official of Radio Pakistan discovered Reshma,
a young gipsy girl singing on the shrine of Shahbaaz Qalandar, from where
she was brought over to the radio and the rest, as they say, is history! Things have changed in
the sense that many more radio and television stations are in operation
that tap local talent as compared to the more urban centered networks .The
comparatively easy access to recording facilities, too, has improved
matters but still these artistes in small towns/hamlets take a very long
time to cross over from the inaccessibility of their region to the bigger
platforms of the three major cities of the country. Multan, due to its
feudal structure, was able to retain the traditional system of patronage
and many an artiste initially travelled to Multan seeking a more stable
patronage than the new urban culture structure provided for. Naseem Akhtar
sang the kaafi and lok geets in the lahenda dialect very well. She was a
vocalist who had been properly trained and she specialised in the ang of
singing the kaafi, which had been immortalised by the likes of Zahida
Parveen. She like her spiritual mentor also sang in the upper register
displaying the full range of her voice. Her adaigi of poetry was
correct and proper and it was difficult to tell that she was not from a
saraiki speaking background. Like many others, her family had settled in
Multan and its vicinity after the mass migration of 1947. Many
musicians/vocalists had initially settled in Multan after the partition.
Iqbal Bano had settled in Multan and though from the erstwhile East Punjab
she acquired the art of singing the kaafi and sang with exceptional skill.
Ustads Salamat Ali Khan/Nazakat Ali Khan from Shamchaurasi during their
stay in Multan in the early years of Pakistan shifted from kheyal and
thumri to singing the kaafi by expanding on the raag. They created a niche
for themselves, following in the footsteps of maestros like Ustads Ashiq
Ali Khan and Tawakkal Hussain Khan. Naseem Akhtar received
her musical education from a number of ustads who were all very gunni
(skilful) but probably not good performers. She imbibed all the musical
influences and had the sense
to choose what was good and weaved these influences and created her own
ang, which resonated the musical ang of Zahida Parveen. This ang of rendering
the kaafi is under threat with computerised instrumentation and
unfamiliarity of the vocalist with the language and the intrinsic spirit
of culture. Recognition came to her late and she was eventually honoured
with various awards. Ill health dogged her throughout, especially in the
later years of her life, which limited her ability to perform. Though not
fully appreciated for her prowess as a vocalist she was nevertheless a
representative of a tradition and it is hoped that she was not the last
upholder in that tradition.
Dear All, Does the title ‘Poor
America’ puzzle you? Do you perhaps think I am referring to the richest,
most powerful country in the world in this pitying tone simply because it
is so unpopular and so maligned and disliked all over the globe? No. Alas, the adjective
‘poor’ in this case does not refer to scorn or pity; it is used in the
factual sense of the word — referring to poverty. ‘Poor America’ is
the name of BBC reporter Hilary Andersson’s brilliant and disturbing
Panorama film which was shown in Britain earlier this month. Andersson looks at
“what it is like to be poor in America” and she talks to middle class
Americans who have fallen on hard times: no jobs, no health insurance, no
homes, no food for their children. She speaks to an out of work tiler and
his partner who now live under a storm drain in Las Vegas. She speaks to
schoolchildren whose parents are often unable to feed them and who dilute
ketchup sachets from their school canteen to make a meal of ‘ketchup
soup’ for themselves. She speaks to people who have lost their jobs and
their homes and now live in a ‘tent city’ near the motorway. She
speaks to officials, doctors, academics, and Republicans and a truly
dreadful picture emerges. The tent villages and
the drain homes are America’s ‘katchi abadis’. Fine, so every
country has them — but should these really exist in the richest nation
on earth? Andersson reminds us
that more than 1.5 million children in America are without homes, and that
one fifth of the country’s income is earned by just one percent of the
population. She shows us the harsh reality of existing in a society with
no social net, no access to free heathcare. In one part of the film,
hundreds of people queue overnight to be able to get in to see volunteer
dentists and doctors at a mobile camp (the man who runs these mobile
clinics is British and initially he ran this service in the Amazon, but
then realised the need was greater in the United States...). Here a doctor
warns a man called Robert that is
his hernia is protruding on to his intestine, this can be
life-threatening, and that he is at risk of developing gangrene. The
doctors plead with him to go to a hospital and have it seen to. Robert
says he cannot afford to pay the 20 thousand dollars necessary for the
operation. He is a construction worker, aged over 50 and he just carries
on with his work, hoping that no medical emergency befalls him. Elsewhere, a group of
schoolchildren talk to Andersson about being hungry. One six-year-old girl
says that her mother ate a rat because they had no other food. Children
whose father has lost his job and who have lost their comfortable house
and who now live in one room at a cheap motel talk about coping with their
changed circumstances. Arrogant Republican officials insist that poverty
is not a problem and that so-called poor people have TVs and computers and
are only poor because they don’t want to work. Newt Gingrich suggests a
scheme for poor children to earn money through being employed to clean
bathroom floors... This thought-provoking
film raises many questions. For me the main question is: what good is
wealth and the ‘successful’ capitalist model if it gives you a society
that is so unjust and so uncaring? Mere creation of wealth does not equal
progress; surely progress is the betterment of society and the advancement
of scientific and intellectual endeavour. The other thing that
struck me after seeing the film was that it seemed (weirdly) that many of
the poor in Pakistan are better off than the poor in America. This may
sound like an odd thing to say but the truth of the matter is that a form
of free government healthcare is still available to all in Pakistan. Also,
there is still a sense of family and community responsibility and even
other poor people will, where possible, help each other. There is also a
largely paternalistic structure in society so somebody higher up in the
social hierarchy will feel responsible for those needy people lower down
to whom they are in some way linked. Charitable organisations abound and a
sense of charitable duty still prevails — albeit in the ‘alms for the
poor’ sort of manner. I am not saying that the
poor in Pakistan are relatively privileged — poverty is a demeaning and
dehumanising state — but what I do think is that this film shows us how
important it is to strive to ensure some basic level of free health and
education to all. There is no point in being the richest nation on earth
if your children are going to bed hungry, or having to eat rats. Their is
no point in going on about capitalism and free enterprise if hardworking
citizens cannot afford to see a doctor and have life-threatening
conditions dealt with. Poor America, indeed.
Best wishes Umber Khairi |
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