“Nothing is absolute. Everything changes, everything moves, everything revolves, everything flies and goes away.” Frida Kahlo

“Nothing is absolute. Everything changes, everything moves, everything revolves, everything flies and goes away.” Frida Kahlo

Below are some books in chronological order during the decades following from August 1947 when India and Pakistan were created. The are from different historical and political vantages and show the enduring struggle in Kashmir and how it has been represented. Above are pictures from a protest organised on 15 August 2019 outside the Indian High Commission in London following the Government of India’s decision to revoke Article 370.
Michael Brecher, The Struggle for Kashmir, Ryerson Press, 1953.
Prem Nath Bazaz, The History of Struggle for Freedom in Kashmir: Cultural and Political, from the Earliest Times to the Present Day, Kashmir Publishing Company, 1954.
Josef Korbel, Danger in Kashmir, Princeton University Press, 1954.
Christopher Birdwood, Two Nations and Kashmir, Robert Hale, 1956.
Aziz Beg, Captive Kashmir, Allied Business, 1957.
Sisir Gupta, Kashmir: Study in India-Pakistan Relations, ICWA, 1966.
Alastair Lamb, The Crisis in Kashmir 1947–1966, Routledge & Kegan Paul, 1966.
Muhammad Yusuf Saraf, Kashmiris’ fight for freedom, Vol. 1 (1819–1946) and Vol. II (1947–1978), Feroze Sons (1977, 1979).
Prem Nath Bazaz, Democracy through intimidation and terror, Delhi: Heritage, 1978.
Sheikh Abdullah and M.Y. Taing, Atish-e-Chinar, Srinagar Shaukat, 1985.
S.T. Hussain, Sheikh Abdullah-a biography (based on Atish-e-Chinar) Wordclay, 2009.
B.C. Taseer, The Kashmir of Sheikh Mohammad Abdullah, Lahore: Feroze Sons, 1986.
U.K. Zutshi, Emergence of political awakening in Kashmir, Manohar Publications, 1986.
Alastair Lamb, Kashmir: A Disputed Legacy 1846-1990, Roxford, 1991.
Robert G. Wirsing. India, Pakistan, and the Kashmir Dispute: On Regional Conflict and Its Resolution, New York: St. Martin’s. 1994.
Victoria Schofield, Kashmir in the Crossfire, Bloomsbury, 1996.
Iffat Malik, Kashmir: Ethnic Conflict International Dispute, OUP 2002.
Mridu Rai, Hindu Rulers: Muslim Subjects: Islam, Rights and the History of Kashmir, Princeton University Press, 2004.
Chitralekha Zutshi, Languages of Belonging: Islam, Regional Identity, and the Making of Kashmir, Hurst, 2004.
Praveen Swami, India, Pakistan and the Secret Jihad: The Covert War in Kashmir, 1947-2004, Routledge, 2006.
Andrew Whitehead, A Mission in Kashmir, Penguin, 2007.
Sanjay Kak, ed. Until my Freedom has Come, Penguin, 2011.
A.G. Noorani, Article 370: A Constitutional History of Jammu and Kashmir, The Kashmir dispute: 1947–2012, OUP, 2011.
Christopher Snedden, The Untold Story of the People of Azad Kashmir. Hurst, 2012.
Shonaleeka Kaul, The Making of Early Kashmir, OUP, 2018.
Duschinski, Bhan, Zia and Mahmood, eds. Resisting Occupation in Kashmir, University of Pennsylvania Press, 2018.

The role of any democratic country, with a well-defined rule of law, is to protect ALL its citizens, ensuring that their rights and freedoms are safeguarded. It is in fact difficult to imagine these lands without the heterogeneity that forms the essence of being South Asian. It is this vibrancy and diversity that gives it character and strength. To move toward a homogenous culture is not only problematic but also dangerous because it is based on exclusivity.
Extract:
In the midst of the monsoon of August 1947, British India ceased to be and gave way to two independent nations. The logic of this partition being religious and regional, the older and larger India was reinforced as a Hindu majoritarian society, while the newer and smaller Pakistan emerged as an Islamic country. No partitions are total and absolute but this one was especially terrible and ambiguous; it left about a 20 percent religious minority population on both sides. Moreover, it created two wings of Pakistan with a hostile Indian body-politic in the middle.
This event was not entirely of subcontinental making. The British Empire in Asia cracked under the hands of the Japanese army during World War II, most spectacularly with the fall of Singapore in February 1942, and began to crumble in South Asia after the war. Along with India and Pakistan, Burma (today’s Myanmar) and Ceylon (Sri Lanka) also emerged independent (both in 1948) at this time. All this was to bring about many changes, both internally in India and internationally. Europe, the ravaged battlefield of the world wars, ceased to be the center of the Western world, with political and economic power shifting decisively to the Soviet Union and the United States, representing two contrasting and conflicting ideological visions for the post-1945 world.
The end of British rule in South Asia happened alongside the emergence of this conflict, christened the Cold War. The road to freedom and partition of India and the creation of Pakistan was a long one and accompanied with fundamental social, economic, and political changes. From the mutiny of 1857 to the massacre of 1919 in Jallianwala Bagh, Amritsar; from the formation of the Indian National Congress in 1885 to the establishment of the All-India Muslim League in 1906; from fighting for king and country in two world wars to seeking self-rule in the interwar years; and from the development of an elaborate civil and military bureaucratic and infrastructural apparatus and a space for provincial politics – all these were to completely transform Indian society.
This transformation and its underlying tensions ultimately contributed to that final moment, when in the middle of August 1947, Britain finally bid farewell to its prized colony after being there in one form or another as traders, marauders, administrators, and rulers for over 300 years. Weakened by World War II, the British were forced to accept the new realities of a determined nationalist struggle and an emerging new world order in which old-fashioned colonialism no longer seemed feasible. The journey toward this reality was slow and painful.
This year, on August 14 and 15, the Pakistani and Indian state and society, respectively, will mark 70 years of freedom. The bulk of both countries will be in celebratory mode as much of them were in 1947. Neither will want to remember the hard history of this freedom, nor face the harsh realities of it today. Back in 1947, Mohammad Ali Jinnah was in Karachi and Jawaharlal Nehru in Delhi, both welcoming a new dawn of freedom, but also engulfed in the fear and flames of communal violence. The worst of this was in the partitioned province of the Punjab in North India, where from March 1947 onward in Rawalpindi, communal violence and forced migration of people completely changed the landscape. Over the next year, but largely concentrated in August-December 1947, approximately 1 million were massacred and over 10 million were forced to move from one side of the Radcliffe line to the other. Bengal in East India, the other province to be partitioned, experienced similar, if slower, migration but not murder on the same scale. Other provinces, like Sindh, United Province, Bihar, Assam, Bombay, and the North-Western Frontier Province, also saw religious riots and exchanges of refugee populations.
Partitions are never easy; they are fraught with physical uprooting and dislocation, emotional and psychological separations, and, often, bitter memories of enmities. The partition of British India, though, appeared inescapable in early 1947, once constitutional attempts to secure a confederal arrangement for the Muslims in India to live in a post-colonial Hindu-majority country, without fear, collapsed. The movement for a home for Indian Muslims had gained currency in the interwar period, with poet-philosopher Muhammad Iqbal’s presidential address to the 25th session of the All-India Muslim League in December 1930, envisioning “a consolidated, North-West Indian Muslim State” amalgamating “the Punjab, North-West Frontier province, Sind, and Baluchistan” and self-governing “within or without the British Empire.” It culminated, almost 10 years later, in March 1940, in the lawyer- politician Jinnah’s speech at another session of the League. Describing Muslims as a “nation,” not merely a community, Jinnah demanded “homeland, territory, and state” for them.
Full article in The Diplomat, Issue 33, August 2017 or contact me.
Much of my early childhood in the late seventies and early eighties was spent growing up in Kenya (Nakuru and Nairobi), giving me fond memories of a nostalgic past. Having been back a number of times since, it is inevitably not quite the way I have preserved it in my recollections. Childhood memories are filtered, sedate and full of innocence. The contemporary is much more austere, different and distant. The Sikh community in Kenya is small, perhaps only a few thousand. It is close-knit, largely urban based and relatively wealthy. The wider South Asian community originate from a handful of places like Gujarat, Punjab and Goa but it does reflect microcosm of Indian society with its myriad of ethnicities, languages, religion and cuisine but one in which no one community dominates.
There is of course a long history of trade from the west coast of Indian subcontinent to the east coast of Africa from about the second century AD. However, most of the people of Indian origin moved during the British colonial period, initially as indentured labourers, who were brought to Eastern Africa to help with the construction of the Ugandan Railway during 1896 to 1901. The Indian labourers helped with the construction of the line that went from the coast of Mombasa to Kisumu near Lake Victoria (then-known as the Ugandan Railway). They already had experience from constructing the railways in British India, which started much earlier in the 1850s.
The Asian African Heritage Trust notes that:
“In these six years, these labourers and artisans, through difficult terrain, laid 582 miles (931 kilometres) of railway. They built the Salisbury Bridge, over 1,200 feet long, joining Mombasa Island to the mainland, 35 viaducts in the Rift Valley, and 1,280 smaller bridges and culverts. All this was done by hand. No machines were available to them in these massive and technical tasks. 31,983 workers came from India during these years on these contracts. 2,493 died in the construction. That is, four workers died for each mile of line laid; more than 38 dying every month during the entire six years. A further 6,454 workers became invalid. They also built the subsequent railway towns of Nakuru and Kisumu”. (Asian African Heritage Trust: http://asianafricanheritage.com/index.htm)
Pascale Herzig notes that most of these indentured labourers left after the completion of the project but they were then followed by voluntary migrants (with a large Muslim population, from Gujarat). This second group moved to explore trade opportunities but within this group were also professionals such as teachers, doctors, administrators. And with globalisation, the Kenyan Asians have become much more of a transnational community. Today the petty trader with a small family run business exists alongside the transnational globe-trotter. The former is declining in numbers and latter is adapting with the new business opportunities in an interconnected world.
Many of the Sikhs that came to East Africa were skilled workmen from the Ramgharia community and were associated with the carpentry, blacksmithery and masonry. Quick to adapt and take advantage of these opportunities, they moved into construction and mechanical engineering in order to up-skill themselves. Over subsequent years, the community increased and established its roots in Kenya. The population census of the South Asians (India and Pakistan) below provides a good overview of how the population has grown and declined over a hundred-year period.
| Year | Population | ±% p.a. |
| 1911 | 11,787 | — |
| 1921 | 25,253 | +7.92% |
| 1931 | 43,623 | +5.62% |
| 1948 | 97,687 | +4.86% |
| 1962 | 176,613 | +4.32% |
| 1969 | 139,037 | −3.36% |
| 1979 | 78,600 | −5.54% |
| 1989 | 89,185 | +1.27% |
| 1999 | 89,310 | +0.01% |
| 2009 | 81,791 | −0.88% |
At its height, the Asian population of Nairobi was almost one third Asian in 1962 and 2% of Kenyans were of Asian origin, at the time of Kenya’s independence in 1963. Since then though, the numbers have declined considerably. Within the colonial racial hierarchies, the Indians occupied the spaces between the white and black, a legacy that has been hard to surrender (See further Burton, Brown over Black). They lived, and continue to do so, in their own communities, segregated from the rest which is a source of tension but also emanates from a source of fear. Indians often occupied the middle ranking positions in the colonial period, acting as the buffer between white and black, and, with the top layer gone, the privileged position of the “brown” people became a source of much antagonism and resentment. They were privileged in terms of education, job opportunities and many had established successful businesses. They lived in palatial houses and socially only mixed within their own communities and, thus unsurprisingly, were caught up in the wave of euphoria brought in by African nationalism. The outgoing colonial power however offered a fig-leaf:
“When Kenya received independence in 1963, the Indians were offered the choice of obtaining either British or Kenyan citizenship. Because the painful, post-independence experience of the Congo was still fresh then, and because many Indians felt that the growing demand for position and power from the newly educated African middle class would lead inevitably to their exclusion from the job market, only about 10 percent of the Indian population applied for Kenyan citizenship. The rest chose what later turned out to be “devalued” British passports”. [https://www.nybooks.com/articles/1971/10/07/the-lost-indians-of-kenya/] Ian Sanjay Patel suggests that around 20,000 Kenyan South Asian applied to register for Kenyan citizenship between 1963-1965, out of total population of 176,613. (P.214)
Patel’s recent book, We’re Here Because You Were There (2021) provides an interesting discussion on citizenship and belonging, while focusing on Kenya where his own ancestral roots are. He highlights how Kenyan South Asian British citizens appeared to belong to three different states, as they were resident in Kenya, but some had assumed British citizenship and of course their ancestral roots were in the sub-continent. (Patel p 215). The 1950 Indian Constitution had granted Indian citizenship to persons outside India, if they had parents or grandparents born in India. However, at the same time Apa Pant, the first Indian high commissioner in Nairobi, urged Indians to identify with Kenya rather than India. By 1955, India’s Citizenship Act further removed the possibility of duel nationality. (Patel, p 215).
During the unsuccessful coup attempt in Kenya, against then-President Daniel arap Moi in 1982, many of the Asian shops and homes were also targeted. The fear of violence, looting and nationalisation of business further reinforced the need to remain segregated and aloof in order to survive and preserve their livelihoods. Although many of the Asians fled and relocated, a sizeable Indian diaspora still exists in Kenya, which is quite distinct in character. Old established businesses still exist, and they are still one of the most prosperous communities in Kenya. And interestingly, in 2017, the government announced that the Asian community would be officially recognised as the 44th tribe in Kenya, perhaps an indication of the acceptance that Indians are an integral part of Kenya.
References:
Aiyar, Sana. Indians in Kenya. Harvard University Press, 2015.
Burton, Antoinette M. Brown over black: Race and the politics of postcolonial citation. Three Essays Collective, 2012.
Herzig, Pascale. South Asians in Kenya: Gender, generation and changing identities in diaspora. Vol. 8. LIT Verlag Münster, 2006.
Mangat, Jagjit S. A History of the Asians in East Africa, c. 1886 to 1945. Clarendon Press, 1969.
Onyango Omenya, Gordon. ‘A Global History of Asian’s Presence In Kisumu District of Kenya’s Nyanza Province.’ Les Cahiers d’Afrique de l’Est/The East African Review 51 (2016): 179-207.
Patel, Ian Sanjay. We’re Here Because You Were There. Verso, 2021.