The question of security
It gives people hope and diversion and enhances the country's image. Pakistan will lose a lot if the Rafi Peer festival is not held this year
By Sarwat Ali
Like in the past few years the great debate raging among the management of the Rafi Peer Theatre Workshop (RPTW) is whether to hold the festival this year or not.

Baloch stand completely alienated from Pakistan and tell harrowing stories of excesses and humiliation by state agencies hardly covered in the country's mainstream media. After spending a week in Quetta from Oct 5 to 11, 2009, and holding detailed meetings with people from various sections of the Baloch society, including journalists, intellectuals, academics, political workers, politicians, high government officials and students, one feels the rest of the country is in complete dark about what is going on in the largest federating unit of the country – that Baloch have been left at the mercy of the state's brute force.

The issue in Balochistan is not of financial assistance or economic deprivation anymore. The crisis is much deeper -- Baloch are demanding political freedom and independence.

The true picture of Balochistan emerges after meeting the Baloch youth who are quite brazen in repudiating their loyalty to Pakistan. Here is the gist of what Baloch nationalists say: We are not part of Pakistan. Balochistan is an occupied territory. We want an independent Balochistan as it was before 1948 when it was annexed with Pakistan through use of military force. Islamabad has imposed on us a colonial rule. We do not beg anything from Pakistan. We want full control of our territory and resources. It will be an insult to Baloch if someone advises us not to ask for total freedom and independence. Some of them even want the Pakistani Baloch to be connected with Baloch of Iran and Afghanistan.

The Baloch Students Organisation (Azad) is spearheading the independence campaign and draws its strength from Baloch youth, including female students. The walls along Quetta-Karachi highway and in towns like Mastung and Kalat are painted with anti-Pakistan slogans and salute Baloch leaders killed by security agencies. Even walls of high government officials like DCO Kalat are scribbled with nationalist slogans. Senior Baloch leaders say if referendum is held on Balochistan's future, 90 percent Baloch are likely to vote for an independent country.

Women make up an active and important part of the nationalist movement. A large number of them came in public meetings to express their views, which is remarkable in a society where strict purdah and hence segregation is observed. They are more emotional and aggressive than men in expressing their anger over alleged excesses committed by security and intelligence agencies.

They hold grievance against the missing people; allegedly abducted by state agencies and not officially charged with any offence. They also allege that Baloch activists are tortured in cells well-known to knowledgeable people. The separatists' claims at least 8000 people have been abducted and are languishing in torture cells maintained by federal agencies. Now this is an allegation not supported by any evidence as their full names, their parenthood and addresses are unavailable.

On the other hand, rights organisation have confirmed that credible evidence suggests more than 100 people are victims of enforced disappearances, and hold state agencies responsible for it. Such allegations are not denied by high public officials either.

A campaign maligning the authorities seems to be going on with an apparent aim to provoke more and more Baloch into rebellion and further alienate them from rest of the country. Take the case of the much-publicised case of allegedly abducted teacher, Zarina Marri. No one could provide the address or name of a relative of hers. Also, rumours of intelligence agencies' involvement in target killing and throwing Baloch children from helicopters was in circulation on a mass scale. But again no evidence could support such claims. It seemed state agencies neither have the will nor the capacity to counter the psychological war being waged by the separatists.

Angry Baloch youth does not hide hatred for the non-Baloch, especially Punjabis and the Urdu-speaking Pakistanis. In the past six years, more than 3000 non-Baloch have lost their lives in Quetta and in other parts of the province in incidents of so-called target killings. Even senior non-Baloch teachers and professors who served all their lives in Balochistan have not been spared.

Young BSO activists in Kalat and Quetta justify the killings -- as a revenge for what is being done to Baloch by the Punjabi establishment. They consider Punjabis and Urdu-speaking legitimate targets, regardless of whether they belong to the establishment or they are ordinary workers such as barbers, bakers, doctors and teachers.

The representatives of Hazara community claim that 260 of their members have been killed since 2004. They point fingers at security agencies of colluding with criminal elements.

The government set up tribunals in 2004 and 2008 to investigate two separate incidents of sectarian killings but their findings have yet to be made public. Whether these are killings of Shia Hazaras or non-Baloch settlers, the law enforcing agencies have so far not brought to justice a single perpetrator of violence.

The spate of target killings have forced non-Baloch settlers to migrate to other regions of the country, especially to Karachi and Punjab, creating a shortage of human resources in Quetta and other Baloch-dominated areas. According to an estimate, 50,000 non-Baloch families have so far emigrated from Balochistan. Muhammad Nadeem Khan, a representative of the Chamber of Commerce in Quetta, says that nearly 22,000 government employees of Balochistan have applied for transfer outside Balochistan.

After killing of senior non-Baloch teachers at the Balochistan University, 20 university teachers have got themselves transferred outside Balochistan and more than 120 applications for transfers are pending with the authority. "Most Punjabi teachers in Balochistan have transferred their families to Punjab," says Kalimullah Bahriach, President of Federation of Universities of Pakistan. As a result, the Balochistan University has remained closed for nearly three months. Only one boys' college is open in Quetta and the remaining are closed for want of teachers.

The mistrust for non-Baloch runs so deep among Baloch youth that even non-state actors are looked at with suspicion. The visiting civil society organisations are considered part of the Punjabi establishment. Internationalisation of the Balochistan issue seems to be the main focus of the separatist forces. They have no trust in Islamabad and no hope of relief from any organ of the state.

Moderate voices are there but seem to be getting irrelevant. Nationalists such as BNP (Mengal) and BSO (Malik) though insisting on Baloch political rights, stay short of the independence rhetoric. Mir Hasil Bizenjo, Prince Mohyiddin of Kalat's royal family, veteran left-wing politician Abdul Hayee Baloch and some others seem to have a moderate stance based on the demand for maximum provincial autonomy, but in the prevailing emotionally-charged atmosphere these leaders do not seem to be in a position to publicly oppose the hardline stance of BSO (Azad).

This first-hand encounter with Baloch makes one wonder why the mainstream media has only limited itself to talk shows and analyses on the Baloch issue. More in-depth reporting on the ground reality of Pakistan's biggest province is need of the hour.

At any given time, Nandita Das likes to wear two different hats: that of an actress and a social activist. The activism always informs the acting -- her decision to live in sombre Delhi away from the glaring lights of Mumbai is one of these -- and her career, which spans over 30 films and ten different languages, is best known for critically acclaimed portrayals -- in films such as Fire, Earth, Bawandar and Aamaar Bhuvan -- of silent, oppressed women who find a voice in a cruel world. Whether the director is Deepa Mehta, Adoor Gopalakrishnan, Mrinal Sen, Shyam Benegal, or Mani Ratnam, she is known never to shy away from controversial issues and unconventional roles.

Nandita's passion and commitment as an activist comes from her background in Human Rights. She did her Masters in Social Work from the University of Delhi and worked with various NGOs and continues to advocate issues of social justice. She has been a featured speaker at various universities and social forums both in India and abroad.

The year 2008, saw Nandita Das wearing a third hat. Her directorial debut Firaaq--six interconnected stories about the aftermath of the Gujrat violence in 2002-- had its world premiere at the Toronto International Film Festival in 2008 and was well received all over the world, winning awards at the Asian Festival of First Films in Singapore, International Thessaloniki Film Festival and the Kara Film Festival. The same year, Nandita also appeared in the popular Pakistani film Ramchand Pakistani directed by acclaimed television director Mehreen Jabbar.

Nandita Das has also been a member of the main jury at the Cannes Film Festival in 2005 and at the Karlovy Vary International Film Festival in 2007. In 2008 the French Government conferred her with the prestigious Chevalier des Arts et des Lettres. She is currently the Chairperson of the Children's Film Society, India.

She was in Lahore to attend the first regional conference of the South Asian Women in Media (SAWM). The News on Sunday caught her at the sidelines of the conference. Excerpts of the interview follow:

The News on Sunday: You are known to be a very serious actress.

Nandita Das: So they say. (Laughs)

TNS: Have you ever thought of doing something outrageously different? Like a comedy?

ND: I would love to do a comedy and I have said that many times in interviews. And suddenly I was flooded with offers of strange comedy films that would 'change my image'. I'm not going to do a comedy to change my image but because it would be fun. But comedy doesn't necessarily mean something frivolous or slapstick. So far I haven't been offered the kind of a project that I would want to do it. I am not a very ambitious actress. It's not that I want to prove what a range I have. It's good to try different things within the kind of sensibilities that connect with me.

TNS: You are also trained as an Odissi dancer, so why have we been deprived of seeing that side of you?

ND: I would love to do a dancing role because I love dancing, though I hardly get any opportunities to release that kind of energy. But people do get labeled -- all of us label each other very quickly so that we don't have to think about each other that much. Once you are stamped then it becomes really difficult to break out of the mould. I don't think I have helped the situation because I instinctively get attracted certain roles. I'm not interested in hardcore mainstream cinema-- it's not a cinema that I relate to.

TNS: So not a full-on Yash Chopra movie?

ND: I don't want to give any names. Let's say not a mainstream regular film. There is nothing wrong with it. All kinds of cinema should exist to give a good variety to different audiences. They can choose or they can see both. Personally, I haven't grown up on mainstream Indian films, and somehow I really haven't developed a taste for it.

TNS: Does being a theatre actress and a social activist does that make you any more conscious about the roles you select? In terms of the 'message' for the audience?

ND: I have a background in human rights. Much before coming into films I was already associated with issues of women, children and violence. So obviously, those experiences impacted my choices in films as an actor or even as a director; it is something that instinctively happens. I am not a full-time actress I am not obliged to do 20 films so that at least I'm visible or marketable; those pressures are not there.

TNS: Which has been your most challenging screen role to date?

ND: There are different roles that have interested me a lot. For instance, Bawandar, which is based on the real-life story of a woman who was gang-raped and how she struggles for justice. When you are portraying a real life character there is a lot of responsibility on your shoulders. Hence, different films become challenging for different reasons.

TNS: How did you land in Ramchand Pakistani?

ND: I have known Mehreen (Jabbar) for quite a few years, actually. I had come with Bawandar for the KaraFilm Festival, where we met, and we became really good friends. I was in New York once and she asked me if I would act in a short film; I said why not. Later, she was doing Ramchand she asked me again. Initially I thought there wasn't enough meat in the character and I had done something of the sort earlier. But the story was important for both our countries. So I jumped in.

TNS: How was the experience of working on this side of the border?

ND: In many ways, it was an independent film. The level of passion was amazing because there is so little cinema Pakistan. From the person who is giving you tea to the director -- everybody was doing it for the love of movies. The enthusiasm was infectious. In India, we do so many films that the crew and the cast become a little complacent and so the energy on the set is different.

TNS: How hard was it directing your first movie, Firaaq?

ND: It has been the most challenging thing that I have done in my life. When you are directing there are so many different things you get to do. A director makes all the decisions, and choices, good or bad. I had never attended a film school, never assisted any director but I wrote my own script and that's why I was very sure about what I wanted to make. I'm happy that Firaaq has reached so many people inside and outside India. In Pakistan, it was shown at Kara. People have connected with it because I think human emotions are universal.

TNS: Were you scared of directing the veterans like Naseeruddin Shah?

ND: As a person I've never been overwhelmed. I have great respect for a lot of people but if you get overwhelmed you can't do your work. I have worked with first-time directors and also with many eminent directors and I think it's a different equation in an actor-director relationship when you both bring something to it. It's a director's call because the larger vision of the film is the director's. So whether it is Naseeruddin Shah, Paresh Rawal or Deepti Naval, they were all doing one story and were there for five days each. In fact, Naseeruddin Shah, when he went back from the shoot, messaged me saying, "mighty impressed by your clear and precise instructions and loved working with you."

TNS: How much time does it take you to get out of the skin of a character?

ND: It's not that difficult. There is a scene in Earth, where Amir (Khan), Rahul Khana, little kid and myself are looking out from the terrace. We were supposed to give our reactions to a man's legs are being torn by two jeeps and a house is burning. Deepa Mehta was just giving a running commentary, there was nothing happening in front of us, there was just a flag that was moving and all our eyes had to move with the flag -- we were just hearing and reacting without seeing anything. You cannot be into the skin of a character when there is nothing there. So in between action and cut, I try to focus and be the person I am meant to play.

Sometimes, scenes, such as the gang-rape in Bawandar, are fairly traumatic. I was just acting and I knew they were all actors around me. but there were people laughing, there was some sniggering going on. While acting I was feeling angry, a sense of humiliation And I thought what that woman would have gone through and how courageous was she to fight back. Every character leaves behind something in you.

TNS: What future do you see for film exchange between India and Pakistan?

ND: I think more and more collaborative work, when it happens normally, would be great. Slowly, if we could create a South-Asian identity, this whole perception of the enemy that the governments of both the countries have been playing with, will fade away. I think it's time we looked beyond our differences for it's harming both countries. We have enough problems in terms of education, health etc. and so much of our money, time and expertise is going into fighting that enemy. We are fooling ourselves. This people-to-people interaction will hopefully create a voice that will push the governments to change their policy towards each other.

The question of security

Like in the past few years the great debate raging among the management of the Rafi Peer Theatre Workshop (RPTW) is whether to hold the festival this year or not.

Previously, the biggest constraint used to be financial because there were hardly any sponsors and the government was forever reluctant to be seen as bending over backwards to promote the arts but now it is clear that the question of security has assumed the greatest importance. The issue of security does not only consist of physical security to the people in the artistic and management areas but it impinges on the overall security environment of the country which in turn affects the economy. The increasingly difficult security situation has made many big companies to scale down their activities and inflows of resources are seemingly drying up. The Rafi Peer have mostly relied on sponsorships to fund their huge enterprise and it seems that the largess is coming to an end as, with just a trickle left, it is becoming very difficult for companies to loosen their purse strings.

The RPTW has been running a programme on television for the past few weeks which is edited version of the festivals that they have done. It makes it clear to those who did not attend their festivals of the enormity of the task and the overwhelming response of the theatre, music and puppet groups which came to Pakistan and showed to the people what they had never seen before.

It all started in 1992 with the first international puppet festival, and though initially it was planned that a festival would be held every two years, the response of the audience charged the already-motivated Peerzadas to increase both the frequency and volume of the festivals. In the past many years, actually two international festivals were being held every year, a pace very difficult to sustain by ordinary standards, a full array of top class artistes performing in Pakistan to a ticket that despite the many increases remained fairly low-priced.

It was awesome to be exposed to the forms of puppetry because many defied the conventional definitions by including human puppets in their shows. The theatre groups too showed a very vast variety of forms, ranging from the very conventional to the avant-garde, from scripts written in more formal languages to many in regional dialects. The theatre of the groups from Asian and African countries displayed the immense diversity of form and content and of course music which gradually became a more important segment of the festivals. All kinds of musical forms, from the classical to the folk in Pakistan and from the more staid to the really experimental in the pop genre, adorned the shows in the festival.

And then there was always an emphasis of bringing the performing arts groups together on some common platform of expression. Similarly dance too took place in this dance-starved society where the only dance seen is in films and on music videos.

Last year, the bomb blasts on the premises drove away many. Foreign participants did not take part in the festival earlier this year for the uncertain environment; the economic downturn and the declining sponsorship all affected cultural activity in the country. Despite that they went ahead with the festival, sans the foreign artists, a brave decision which more than anything else reflected the resolve of the organisers to bring normalcy back to life.

It was a pity that the foreign artistes did not take part in the festival because in the past we have also seen artistes from Muslim countries participating with their own forms of music and dance. It was quite fascinating to see and hear the artists bound together by a common thread of faith, yet with own nuances and shades that reflected the different areas and backgrounds the groups came from. This exposure to the cultural expression of Muslim societies had been absent from the screens of our relational radars. It may be a more fruitful exercise to expose the cultural expression of the Muslim societies in entirety to the people here rather than limiting it to certain rituals. But the cultural expression as it exists per se has never been introduced to the people of Pakistan except in the previous Rafi Peer Theatre Festivals. The general impression, that Muslim societies do not have any culture to present, is very narrowly constructed or is belying the truth.

The threats had been there in the past as well because it has never been a threat-free festival. The usual point of attack is to castigate the arts as immoral, cheap, vulgar, and obscene and action is required to be taken against them for depraving society. Culture is always the first port of arrival for those who want to built a puritan society and preach straight and narrow. The other point of attack is to call it wasteful expenditure and a case is made out of gaining more from other conventional sectors than investing in the so-called entertainment. It is often asserted that electricity, water, sugar and bread are more important than singing and dancing for a backward society like ours.

Pakistan will lose a lot if the festival is not held this year. It has been a balancing act that rubbed away the sharp edges of violent activity rampant in the country. It gave the frightened people of the country some hope and diversion from the security conditions, and it also enhanced the image of the country that was able to withstand violence. The management is still hopeful that they can pull something out of the hat and so are those who know the value of culture and of cultural exchanges between people.