attacks
Militants and the military
The country is now confronted with an insurgency that appears unlikely to be controlled by military means alone
By Rahimullah Yusufzai
There has been no let-up in the violence that first engulfed some of the tribal areas of NWFP in early 2004 and has now spread to the settled districts. The security situation has deteriorated to such an extent that personnel of the armed forces and law-enforcement agencies now live in fear of suicide bombings and ambushes everywhere in the province.

review
Past and present
The inaugural exhibitions in fourteen galleries scrupulously sidestep direct social or political commentary for a focus on fantasy, nostalgia and escape. A review of the first three...
By Aasim Akhtar
It has been over a decade since the infamous 1996 National Exhibition was held at Islamabad, which attracted bilious criticism for its strident and supposedly single-minded obsession with arbitration. In summing up a tendency toward social engagement and identity politics, much in evidence in the art of the 1990s, it also, paradoxically, marked a sea change in the ever-shifting relationship of art and politics, sending an art world weary of social causes skittering off towards beauty.

Mechanical manuscripts
In a recent show of miniature paintings in Lahore, each artist brings out solution to the questions haunting the practitioners of miniature art
By Quddus Mirza
The most quoted line that nobody learns from history can be applied to the art of miniature. One learns from traditional miniature that no one learns anything from it. This statement may sound strange because there are hundreds of individuals who have studied this genre in different art institutions. Today some of the most respected names of local art are associated with this form of expression.

Age of maestros
An unpretentious account of the state of music and the ustaads in an early 20th century India
By Sarwat Ali
The Lost World of Hindustani Music
By Kumar Prasad Mukherji
Published by Oxford University Press, 2007
Price: Rs350
Pages: 354
The Lost World of Hindustani Music is the recapturing of the colourful musical atmosphere of a dying feudal age when budding musicians still in their teens looked up to the great ustads who being scarcely mortal walked the earth.The patrons were the zamindars, nawabs, rajas and maharajas.

Self help!
Dear all,
I read with some interest about a book written by a woman with a good life who felt that it should somehow be better, so she decided to consult some self help manuals. At the end of her experiment her conclusion is that no, they did not help her, but instead created some other imbalances -- both in her outlook and her approach.

 

 

There has been no let-up in the violence that first engulfed some of the tribal areas of NWFP in early 2004 and has now spread to the settled districts. The security situation has deteriorated to such an extent that personnel of the armed forces and law-enforcement agencies now live in fear of suicide bombings and ambushes everywhere in the province.

In recent weeks, acts of terrorism and attacks targetting men in uniform have increased in frequency, intensity and sophistication. Two happenings during the past few months primarily caused an increase in violent attacks by militants in and outside the tribal areas bordering Afghanistan. One was the collapse of the 10-month old North Waziristan peace accord on July 15 after it was unilaterally scrapped by tribal militants on the plea that the military violated its terms after redeploying troops at several roadside checkpoints. The second happening was the military operation against the Lal Masjid and Jamia Hafsa complex in which armed men led by Maulana Abdur Rashid Ghazi lost their lives along with scores of unarmed male and female religious students. It seems the militants are out to avenge those deaths and all those who took part in the storming of the mosque and madrasa in Islamabad are now the target of revenge attacks.

The apparent suicide bombing at the mess of the Special Services Group (SSG) on September 13 at Tarbela was also directed at members of the army commando force that had attacked the barricaded Lal Masjid and Jamia Force. The elite SSG had lost 10 soldiers including a colonel during the fighting at the mosque and madrassa complex in Islamabad and the blast at the base of its Special Operations Task Force at Tarbela killed over 20 troops and caused injuries to another 42. This would probably be the biggest single loss suffered by the SSG during both peace and war times since the creation of Pakistan. The effect on the morale of the military commandoes, who take pride on their association with the SSG, after suffering such losses isn't hard to imagine. And this happened at a time when a commando General, Pervez Musharraf, is commanding the Pakistan Army and also ruling the country as President.

The SSG has suffered severe losses in Waziristan as well. Recently, 15 of them went missing after being airdropped in the forested Shawal valley in North Waziristan to carry out an operation against the militants. Their bodies, (some reportedly mutilated) were retrieved through the efforts of Qari Roman, the prayer-leader of the main mosque in North Waziristan's headquarters, Miramshah, who urged the militants to hand him over the remains along two injured commandoes.

The authorities have yet to concede these deaths and initially military spokesman, Maj General Waheed Arshad, claimed that 15 to 18 militants had been killed in the Shawal operation. As it transpired later, army commandoes rather than many militants were killed in this operation. This reminds one of the deaths of an almost equal number of SSG personnel in an operation in Azam Warsak area in South Waziristan during the initial days of the military action in the area in early 2004. On both occasions, reports suggested that the battle-hardened militants were waiting in ambush to attack the troops upon being airdropped.

The Tarbela suicide bombing is another evidence of the accurate intelligence that the network of militants possess with regard to the presence and movement of different sections of the military apparatus. Not many people would have known that the SSG maintains this base at Tarbela and Ghazi, located close to the Tarbela Dam, and uses it to launch military operations in Waziristan. It is also intriguing to know that the Karar Company of the SSG Brigade Headquarters at Tarbela was involved in the attack on Lal Masjid and Jamia Hafsa. The suicide bomber knew all this and was able to easily breach the lax security at the base to enter the mess when around 250 commandoes were having their dinner.

Sepoy Ismail, the soldier guard who witnessed the bomber coming on a bicycle and lodged the First Information Report (FIR) with the Ghazi police station, described him as a young bearded man, wearing white shalwar-kameez and white cap. That has been the description of most suicide bombers by those who claim to have seen them before the act. The military authorities would certainly address the security lapses that enabled the suicide bomber to strike at the SSG mess in Tarbela but somehow in Pakistan such measures are taken after loss of life and property and even then there are many more easy targets waiting to be hit.

In case of Tarbela, the residents of the Wapda colonies nearby had open access to the mess, laundry and shops at the SSG base and the suicide bomber and his sponsors knew this.

While still on the subject of the apparently better intelligence that the militants possess compared to the vastly resourceful spy outfits run by the government, the attack on the defense bus carrying Inter-Services Intelligence (ISI) staff in Rawalpindi is a case in point. This too was meticulously planned and then there was the secondary, or possibly diversionary, suicide attack around the same time on another military target not far from the General Headquarters (GHQ) in Rawalpindi. Suicide bombings at the Punjab Regiment's training grounds at Dargai, the mosque in Kohat garrison, Kharian Cantonment, the police recruiting centre in Dera Ismail Khan and the Police Training College in Hangu all point to the fact that targets are carefully selected by the militants and much homework is done to cause maximum damage while finalising the execution stage of the attack.

The militants have also learnt to bargain for the release of their captured colleagues during negotiations with the government through jirgas comprising tribal elders and clerics. The government has freed many militants or their supporters following peace accords or in the course of prisoners' swaps. Right now, a jirga is negotiating with Baitullah Mahsud, arguably the most feared and powerful commander of the Taliban militants, for securing release of the up to 280 soldiers belonging to the Pakistan Army and Frontier Corps (FC) in South Waziristan. The prolonged negotiations often get stalled because the government finds it difficult to accept the militants' demands, which include release of their 20 men accused of planning or executing suicide and other terrorist attacks and withdrawal of troops from the Makeen and Ladha areas inhabited by the Mahsud tribe. The militants have delayed releasing the soldiers, who include a colonel and some majors, to pressure the government and the military to accede to their demands. The military has withdrawn troops from two posts in Tiarza and Barwand areas and it would have to do the same in case of the Mohammad Nawaz Kot post in Makeen to obtain freedom for the captured soldiers.

This must go down as one of the most embarrassing episodes in the history of the Pakistan Army. The surrender of the lightly-armed troops without putting up a fight is being seen as lack of will among a growing number of soldiers to fight fellow Muslims and countrymen. Or how else would one explain the increasing number of such incidents in which troops are abducted by militants from North and South Waziristan, Frontier Region Bannu and even Thall in Hangu district?

The latest such incident took place on September 19 when seven soldiers from the paramilitary FC were abducted by armed gunmen. Local Taliban operating in the troubled North Waziristan tribal agency claimed responsibility for the abductions. They are already holding some troops in North Waziristan and the abduction of seven more would contribute to their bargaining position while negotiating with the government for release of Taliban prisoners and pullout of troops from their areas.

The loss of morale should be viewed in the context of reports, still to be confirmed by the military authorities, about desertions. The desertions are mostly reported from the FC, which is composed of Pashtun tribesmen and has officers from the Pakistan Army. The military operations in tribal areas have become very unpopular among the people of NWFP and Fata who view them as an extension of America's war on terror. There is a general feeling that these operations are being carried out at the behest of the US, which has been supplying Cobra gunship helicopters, weapons and vehicles to the forces operating in Fata. These operations were ostensibly aimed at hunting down foreign fighters linked to al-Qaeda and Afghan Taliban but have now become a battle between the Pakistani military and homegrown tribal militants.

Rather than checking the spread of militancy, these military operations have contributed to fuelling extremism. The country is now confronted with an insurgency that appears unlikely to be controlled by military means alone. Sadly enough, the political component is lacking in the strategies made and unmade by the government in its efforts to bring this dangerous conflict to an end.

 

review
Past and present

It has been over a decade since the infamous 1996 National Exhibition was held at Islamabad, which attracted bilious criticism for its strident and supposedly single-minded obsession with arbitration. In summing up a tendency toward social engagement and identity politics, much in evidence in the art of the 1990s, it also, paradoxically, marked a sea change in the ever-shifting relationship of art and politics, sending an art world weary of social causes skittering off towards beauty.

This year, with the country evenly and bitterly divided on the domestic political front, and the target of furious and often murderous rage abroad, one might have expected some form of return to the fireworks of the 1996 edition. The 2007 exhibition 'Moving Ahead' is the first to be conceived since the world changed on September 11, 2001. Yet, for the most part, the inaugural exhibitions in fourteen galleries individually curated by guest curators and herded together under the aegis of a generic title at the new National Art Gallery -- a PNCA, Ministry of Culture and CDA undertaking -- scrupulously sidestepped direct social or political commentary for a focus on fantasy, nostalgia and escape. (In this it rather accurately reflected the contemporary work visible in galleries and museums). But despite overt avoidance of politics, the unsettled mood of the nation nevertheless bubbled up in works evincing undercurrents of anxiety and revelationary thinking.

The curators, beginning with the first three, Jamal Shah, Quddus Mirza and Niilofur Farrukh, identify the shows' several leitmotifs in the catalogue. One is a cross-generational fascination with the 1970s and '80s, an era when revolution of all sorts was in the air, and the kind of social and civil freedoms now under threat were the battle cries of a new generation. However, the 21st-century version of this rebellion takes a more introspective and individualised form, seeking change in the mental rather than the political landscape.

The response to this year's edition has been surprisingly positive for shows generally considered to be the exhibitions that critics love to hate. Rave reviews have translated into record attendance figures, with hordes wrapping around the blocks. One can't help wondering if the lovefest was in part the response of an art community weary of strife. But beyond that, it also seemed to have been a reaction against the genre-defying, discipline deconstructing National Exhibitions in the past, about which one of my colleagues remarked once: "These shows often define art so broadly, and so laxly, that the art all but disappears."

A thread of melancholic romanticism runs through much of the work on view in Jamal Shah's 'Iconic Presence'. Nature appears as a possible substitute for the meaning and authenticity that seem to have disappeared from the human realm. In these works, culled from the PNCA's permanent archives and meant to pay homage to the maestros of painting in Pakistan, nature becomes a repository of longings for beauty, emotional exaltation and mystery.

Other artists seem to question such fetishisation of nature. A group of artists with roots in the European avant-garde experience, aware of Constructivist, Cubist and Futurist concern, find common cause in the art of the '60s and the '70s. In any case, the intellectual rigour of this investigation into the history of the avant-garde in the region and the quality of work include cries out for a series of exhibitions, beginning with the work of Jahangir and Zubeida Agha, to familiarise a larger audience with the achievements of these courageously independent artists. The NAG's project begins to fulfill the need for such carefully focused shows suggested by the evidence of the encyclopaedic 'Iconic Presence'.

Conviviality is the unremitting theme of the show entitled 'Love' by Quddus Mirza. In a sense, this show takes up history as its elemental substance, with its various works, providing visitors with a veritable registry of shifts in attitude and ethos within recent art production. But it affords this temporal vantage only when those visitors move out into the Grand Hall and, seeking the present inevitably stumble upon the past in a way that creates a pervasive sense of contingency both in the exhibition as a whole and in the experience immediately at hand. This feeling is perhaps the strongest when, in the course of one's fruitless search for a particular artwork, the past suddenly arrives on the scene with a sense of vertiginous transport. On the other hand, an emphasis on novelty still seems to be necessary to the curator. From Omar Khan's near-realistic renditions of the human heart to A R Chughtai's two pigeons to Adeela Suleiman's catty installation in rubber gear covers entitled 'It Feels Like Fire', Mirza's 'Love is a many splendoured thing'.

Niilofur Farrukh's 'Hassan Kuzagar Ke Naam' (after N M Rashid's poem of the same title), is an eclectic show in which unquestionably the star is clay. In the myriad works by 10 ceramists are players from most contemporary schools of ceramic practice. There is a large number of wood, salt, soda, and smoke-fired and generally natural finishes along with a freer handling of clay evident among the works. This perhaps illustrates the growing interest in this way of working and is a marked difference from the super-slick, highly finished works that were so plentiful in the past.

Sadia Salim's 'Transformation I' is an elegant example of the more natural style of work. Unglazed and Anagima-fired, the randomness of the firing effects were carefully controlled and counterbalanced by the taut formality of the 'line-up' arrangement. These are vessels about process and the nature of clay including the spiral rib lines mimicking the action of throwing by creating upwards movement. One does wonder if these tall, narrow, unglazed pots are functional? But there is no question that their arrangement is sculptural in intent, as is the exaggeration of form.

Tariq Javed's 'Glazed Painting with Pots I' is a highly coloured and sculptural piece that makes excellent use of commercially prepared glazes combined with a rich red terra sigillata. Its form is a variation on a theme and has a rhythm that is lighthearted and whimsical.

So there is something for everyone, and although the venue is less than perfect (with the gallery's tiles competing with works on rather too low plinths) it gives a chance to look at what's happening in ceramics in Pakistan. It seems that a reversal of the '80s/'90s trends is firmly in place and there is a general moving away from highly coloured towards 'clever' ceramics. The majority of works in the show are reflective rather than commentary, and the natural effects are here for the duration.

 
Mechanical manuscripts

By Quddus Mirza

The most quoted line that nobody learns from history can be applied to the art of miniature. One learns from traditional miniature that no one learns anything from it. This statement may sound strange because there are hundreds of individuals who have studied this genre in different art institutions. Today some of the most respected names of local art are associated with this form of expression.

With all this fervour, one can still question if the essence of this traditional art or aesthetics is being analysed or understood. What we encounter in various collections are numerous faithful copies of old works, or 'modern' versions of miniature paintings. Only a few have been able to concentrate on this art in a creative manner, understand its structure, fathom its aesthetics and have the ability to learn from it, in order to extend its scope.

Apart from a minority including Imran Qureshi, Aisha Khalid, Nusra Latif, Talha Rathore and some from the latter generation, a large number of miniature painters are just trying to produce small scale works, which may have some superficial link with the traditional art, but do not reflect any real or indepth understanding of miniature art. Neither do these reveal an effort on artists' part to see the actual examples of old works. Often the makers of miniatures rely on reproductions in the books and prepare replicas of these mechanical prints. Hardly do they bother to step out of the studio and visits the museum in order to study the original works.

This is perhaps why miniature is not perceived as a living tradition, but is followed it for its sentimental and antique value. Instead of becoming a conceptual/artistic exercise, miniature becomes a commercial potential that can be explored. 

Hence, majority of the works lack the vigorous line and vivid colours schemes, two prime features of miniature paintings. Nor do they have the particular way of rendering reality, which is wholly distinct from the Western mode of representation.

The most recent of a miniature show titled 'Illuminated Manuscripts', is being held at the Nairang Galleries Lahore. Six artists -- all graduates in  miniature painting from NCA -- are participating in this exhibition, which opened on September 13 2007.

In fact the date of inauguration, which was too close to Ramzan, may only be coincidental. But the fact remains that an aspect of sacredness -- in the name of heritage and tradition -- is attached to the practice of miniature. Although not patronised by the state -- in fact not to that extent of calligraphy in the past decades -- it is being appreciated and supported by an international clientele (that includes foreign states, their missions and representatives in Pakistan).

So the art of miniature, now being made on a large scale, is produced without any theoretical background or aesthetic finesse.

Several works on display at Nairang Galleries have traditional subjects and characters but are painted without any grasp on the method or imaginative quality. However a few paintings, for instance the miniatures of Kiran Saeed, Mizna Syed and Akif Suri, are different -- to some extent due to artists' clarity of vision and command on their media and technique.

Kiran creates narratives about herself, with her own figure appearing in her paintings. In addition to that, the inclusion of a female body, seen from the back and the sunflower are components used to enhance her concepts. Likewise the work by Mizna Syed alludes to her relationship with her surroundings. The space in Mizna's imagery is not a physical area, but suggests a mental state. For example, she draws her figure that is engaged in completing a big jigsaw puzzle, and by being duplicate, attempts it from both sides.

This act of fixing a broken surface/imagery is repeated in the work of Akif Suri too. He tries to create a meaningful content through subtle symbols and crisp rendering of the figures. His work, with the image of a Mughal King on the throne and his own body busy  stitching the broken parts of the paper overlapping the old miniature, is the most interesting piece in the show. Not only because of its remarkable level of skill, but its choice of imagery this work also suggests a personal, yet a general statement/sentiment: That how tradition can be treated employing tools of one's own preference and capacity. A question that haunts many practitioners of miniature art. Each artist in the show brings out his or her solution -- with varying degree of convincing truths!

(The exhibition will continue till September 25, 2007)

Age of maestros

By Sarwat Ali

The Lost World of Hindustani Music
By Kumar Prasad Mukherji
Published by Oxford University Press, 2007
Price: Rs350
Pages: 354

The Lost World of Hindustani Music is the recapturing of the colourful musical atmosphere of a dying feudal age when budding musicians still in their teens looked up to the great ustads who being scarcely mortal walked the earth.The patrons were the zamindars, nawabs, rajas and maharajas.

The book covers the musical scene from the second decade of the 20th century till three decades after partition in India. Written in the manner of a story rather than a book which pretends to be scholarly, it is full of incidents and anecdotes which often form the body of knowledge in music. The author is totally aware of the music scene in North India and gives an account of the music and particularly of musicians as they lived, and performed in the fifty odd years that has been covered in the book.

Kumar Prasad Mukherjee himself had no claims of being a musician though he was initiated into the world of kheyal and thumri at a young age. He became the shisya of Rabindra Lal Roy and then of Tarapada Chakarborty, the first Bengali singer of proper kheyal. He then became a practicing vocalist and performed at many places -- some of them quite prestigious -- with some of the great names of Indian classical music. It appears that he never made music the source of livelihood and working for a living made him move from town to town.

But he lived more in Luchknow and then in Calcutta and his book is full of information about the artistes who lived in these cities as indeed in India and this is what makes the book a very interesting read and reveals plenty of information about the artistes who were practicing musicians of that period. Living in Pakistan especially since 1971 can screen you off from the bigger and larger musical scene of India. What is often recognised and filters through is the music practiced by its famous practitioners but the entire musical scene with many of the musicians who might not all be of the highest quality is more truthful to portraying an entire picture. This makes the music culture along with its practitioners and patrons come to life and this is what Mukherjee's book has been able to achieve successfully.

In India after independence and the dissolution of the Princely states the most vibrant centre of more serious musical endeavours was Calcutta. Most of the famous Ustads and Pandits actually shifted to Calcutta, and some who did not spend considerable periods there, singing, performing and relishing the overall atmosphere which was very conducive to music. Calcutta being a big city had a bigger percentage of listeners who understood and critically acclaimed classical forms of music. Classical forms of music in particular thrive if the appreciation is laced with a critical understanding and that was provided aplenty by the city of Calcutta. Mukherjee  paints the music scene of the city with which he was familiar.

He has divided the book into chapters like the birth of kheyal and then he discusses the various gharanaas -- Gwalior, Kirana, Patiala, Sahaswan, Agra, Jaipur and finally there is a whole chapter on Bhasker Rao Bakhle.

He thinks that the music has undergone tremendous change and it is impossible to decipher the ancient texts. The features of the raags have stopped changing though, since the tempered scale was adopted with the advent of the Christian missionaries By changing the key step by step six parental scales can be measured on the scale of Bilawal. He thinks the basis of a raag is the morchanna or modulation, not in the Indian sense of the term but change of key as understood in  European music.

He further thinks that as music became a courtly affair by the 16th and 17th century it gained subtlety but it lost its simple pristine vigour. Eventually it became vocal gymnastics until the romantics in the provincial darbars started protesting. One such protest was the thumri which probably originated and certainly developed in Luchknow.

The information is invaluable and the atmosphere that he creates is obviously of a bygone age. The question remains: Can the music which is the product of an environment outlive it? The book while refraining to give a direct answer does bring forth the force and vitality of an art form that has had a continuous tradition for more than 200 years. Perhaps this resilience and adaptability is its most powerful tool.

 

Self help!

Dear all,

I read with some interest about a book written by a woman with a good life who felt that it should somehow be better, so she decided to consult some self help manuals. At the end of her experiment her conclusion is that no, they did not help her, but instead created some other imbalances -- both in her outlook and her approach.

Jennifer Nielssen describes her two year undertaking in a book called 'Practically Perfect in Every Way'. Nielssen was going through a low phase in her life (her dog was dying), so she decided to try and create some order and sense of her life. She bought a few books and began to follow their rules and dictates. She decluttered her house, lost weight, got completely dressed first thing in the morning, made her bed, and kept the house looking impeccable. She began to use techniques dictated by some Dr-I-can-help-you-fix-your-relationships type of author to manage her relationship with her husband, with some absurd results, as they were basically required to use a script to improve their communication.

She says that while the books about house management and finances proved useful, the personality and relationship manuals created new and unnecessary stresses.

Another very interesting point that she makes is that the books make you feel as if you really can shape your destiny, which you simply cannot. I think this is a very valid point as I, in my armchair observations on life and humans, have noticed that it is the people who are most sure of their life plan and direction are the least capable of coping with any googly that Fate bowls in their direction.

The people who can most retain their sanity and ability to be happy are those who can adapt to and be grateful for the vagaries of fate. You might have a life and career plan, but often circumstances don't let the plan unfold as you wanted, your life gets thrown in different direction. 

Self help books can really teach you things but they can also, as Nielssen points out, make you lose your bearings and sense of self. If you love to spend your weekends in your pyjamas drinking tea and watching television, how is that harmful to you or anybody else? If you like to waste time occasionally what is wrong with that? If your house doesn't look like a furniture showroom or show home, it just means you are a normal person with a real life as opposed to a control freak obsessive or somebody deeply concerned with how others will view them.

I think we need to exercise a little common sense in our self help philosophy. If the aim is to be happier, then we should be clear as to what actually makes us happy. At the end of the day it is not the perfect house or expensive commodities that will strengthen your lives, it will be your own strength of character and the emotional support you give each other that make the difference.

A friend in Lahore says that some system called 'the art of living' has changed her life and she now devotes a great deal of her time to organising courses and recruiting others to join these art of living courses, but I admit I am cynical about the whole exercise. Surely if we took time out regularly to remind ourselves of our priorities in life, we wouldn't have to go and attend long, costly courses and learn 'techniques' that take us through life.

The best advice I have got on this matter is from my spouse who told me to look ahead rather than back and to think positively rather than fill myself with regrets and recriminations. And believe, me this simple little principle makes life a lot happier! And you don't have to convert the positive thought idea into some sort of great revelation like the people who peddle 'The Secret' ( a ridiculous book, and now even a video; please do not buy either), you just have to resolve to do the best you can in various situations and not beat yourself up about what you could have done better.

Best wishes

 

 Umber Khairi

 

 


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