Category Archives: Pakistan

“To Peking for Peace”: Kissinger’s Secret 1971 Trip.

It was fifty years ago that Henry Kissinger made a secret trip to Beijing in July 1971. Kissinger, who was President Nixon’s National Security Advisor, flew to Beijing from Pakistan on PIA flight. His meetings there produced an agreement that President Nixon would visit China, which saw the beginning of the U.S.-China effort to discuss the issues that had divided them over the years. Below are some snippets of recent articles that have appeared to mark this moment from Pakistan’s perspective and also some archival material.

‘Gastric diplomacy’ by F.S. Aijazuddin, Dawn, July 8, 2021

FIFTY years ago today, on July 8, 1971, Dr Henry Kissinger as president Nixon’s envoy made a stopover in Rawalpindi to meet president Yahya Khan. Kissinger came from New Delhi, leaving a perplexed prime minister Mrs Indira Gandhi wondering why he had dropped in for such insubstantial talks.

In Rawalpindi that night, Dr Kissinger had dinner with the president, during which they discussed the secret they had shared for two years — the furtive contact between US president Nixon and the Chinese leadership of Chairman Mao Zedong and premier Zhou Enlai.

Dr Kissinger expressed his apprehension over his visit to Beijing, insisting at one stage that president Yahya should accompany him as a guarantor of his safety. Yahya demurred and offered Kissinger a tin hat and a general instead.

In the early hours of July 9, while his ‘double’ (ostensibly with a gastric upset) drove to Nathiagali, Dr Kissinger flew out of Chaklala airport in a PIA aircraft. He spent the next few days in Beijing and returned on July 11.

I dined with former president Yahya Khan four years later, on Aug 2, 1975. He was then in ‘protective custody’ in his Harley Street home. I asked him about Chairman Mao: “Like an ocean”. Zhou Enlai? “Courteous, far-sighted but like a mouse in front of Chairman Mao.” And president Richard Nixon? “A true friend of Pakistan.”

Yahya Khan — the go-between trusted by both the Americans and the Chinese — maintained a confidential record consisting of 49 documents, kept in a loose-leaf folder which his son Ali Yahya hid under his bed. Occasionally, tantalisingly, he would reveal some but not all its contents.

Years later, Ali gave me a full set of the papers. These I was able to convert into a book — From a Head, Through a Head, To a Head: The Secret Channel between the US and China through Pakistan (2000). Later, I discovered a cache of Nixon’s presidential papers stored in the US National Archives, in Washington, D.C. They proved uniquely valuable, because Kissinger had put an embargo on his own papers. Read the full article.

‘A Flight that Changed the World’ by Abdul Hayee, The Friday Times, July 16, 2021

On this particular night in July 1971, we were told to to get ready for a 3 AM departure. Pakistan International Airlines was routinely used for VVIP (Very Very Important Person) travel from its very inception and in the 1960s had developed a security check-list to cover such operations whenever needed. The basics involved securing the aircraft with armed guards during preflight maintenance and ensuring flight operation by a crew that had prior national security clearance.

Being one of the Chief Pursers at the time who had such security clearance, I was asked in July 1971, to proceed to Rawalpindi from Lahore where I was on Vacation. A Boeing 707 crew under the command of Captain M T Baig was assembled in Intercontinental Hotel Rawalpindi without a clue as to the nature of this VVIP operation. We were only told in clear terms that we were not to communicate with anyone and that we would be told to operate a VVIP flight on short notice…

Since it was dark, it was difficult to see the passengers in his car. But as soon as they came out of the car and started to come up the steps, lo and behold! the man following Mr. Khan was none other than Dr. Henry Kissinger, Assistant to the US President for National Security affairs!

I was the first to greet him aboard, introduced myself as Purser in charge. Dr Kissinger then introduced me to the other gentlemen in the party –  namely Winston Lord, John Holdridge and Richard Smyser. Mr. Khan got out, the door was closed and departure announced to Peking. I remember having told Captain M.T. Baig, the commander of this flight, as to who exactly our VVIP passengers were. He was as surprised as one might expect. Read the full account.

The Kissinger Transcripts. The Top Secret Talks With Beijing and Moscow By William Burr The New Press. Below is a short extract/commentary about America’s support for Pakistan during the war for independence in Bangladesh.

Another important channel to Beijing was Ambassador Huang Hua, who headed the PRC’s United Nations Mission when it was established in November 1971, a few weeks after the U.N. General Assembly voted to seat Mainland China. Huang and Kissinger began holding secret meetings at a CIA safehouse in the Lower East Side of Manhattan and quickly developed a comfortable relationship across the ideological divide. Although they were able to keep their meetings secret, within months some neighbors began to wonder “what is going on.” Security officials asked that Kissinger “arrive in something other than a large limousine,” arrive on time, and bring a less obtrusive Secret Service detail. (Apparently the agents had “been leaping out of the car and stopping traffic.”)

On 10 December 1971, Kissinger met with Huang Hua to brief him on the U.S. stance toward the South Asian crisis. A week earlier, the Bangladesh crisis had exploded into war when Pakistan launched a surprise attack on India. With the U.S. public generally supporting India and the cause of Bangladeshi independence, Nixon and Kissinger secretly and deceptively tilted policy toward Pakistan, in part because of President Yahya Khan’s important role in facilitating communications with Beijing during 1970 and 1971. Moreover, Nixon and Kissinger saw India as a Soviet proxy and believed incorrectly that Indian prime minister Indira Gandhi aimed to destroy West Pakistan in order to humiliate the government that had helped to forge U.S.-China relations. Kissinger told Huang how the White House was sustaining its tilt toward Karachi with veiled threats to the Soviets, secret requests to Middle Eastern governments to provide military equipment to Karachi, and instructions to send an aircraft carrier fleet through the Straits of Malacca into the Bay of Bengal.

Secretary of State Rogers was furious with White House policy toward Pakistan, although he failed to realize that Nixon was as much its architect as Kissinger. Nixon and Kissinger continued to make key decisions in secret. Only they knew that their naval deployments were to ensure “maximum intimidation” of India and the Soviet Union. Although the Indians were puzzled by U.S. maneuvers, Kissinger later argued that this action had been “the first decision to risk war in the triangular Soviet-Chinese-American relationship.” However, he did not admit in his memoirs that he had counseled Ambassador Huang that if Beijing decided to intervene in the war “to protect its security, the U.S. would oppose efforts of others to interfere with the People’s Republic.” Huang’s rhetoric in the conversation was militant; Kissinger concluded incorrectly that the Chinese were about to join the fighting. Beijing had as little interest in intervening as the Indians had in escalating the fighting. A week after this meeting, on 17 December, the Indians accepted Pakistan’s offer of an unconditional cease-fire.

The Beijing- Washington Back-Channel and Henry Kissinger’s Secret Trip to China. September 1970-July 1971. National Security Archive Electronic Briefing Book No. 66. Edited by William Burr, February 27, 2002.

Getting To Beijing: Henry Kissinger’s Secret 1971 Trip A documentary history of US efforts under Richard Nixon to open discussions with Chinese leaders, an effort that yielded Kissinger’s trip forty years ago this month. Photo: Premier Zhou Enlai and National Security Advisor Henry Kissinger.

The shame of work

This morning I came across a newsflash on the BBC about “The risqué business of selling underwear in Pakistan”, which serves as a click bait because the article-proper is titled “Pakistan: The man trying to improve women’s underwear”. Its content immediately resonated with me. The quotes from female workers therein took me back to the research I did on the women, who worked for Pakistan International Airline (PIA) in 1960s. The factory in-focus, where they are making the garments, is based in Faisalabad (Lyallpur), a city I know well because of my own doctoral research, while the business was started by a Leicester born businessman. Leicester/DMU where I work, is city renowned for its garment factories and indeed DMU has long pioneered research in the increasingly sophisticated lingerie industry.

The interesting element is of course that in Pakistan, women’s undergarments are either on full display in congested stalls in busy bazaars, where a majority of women shop (buying, most likely, from a man) or they are curiously hidden (veiled) behind the blackened windows in fancy shopping malls. This stark class disparity is also symbolic of a cultural disparity in a society where working women of the sub-urban informal sector in r-urban areas, rarely have the luxury to be veiled, while the newly middle-class women, of families with the means to be pious, are more prone to and secluded in world of purdah.

The focus of the said article is about comfort and ensuring that women have access to underwear garments that are fit for purpose – and not just for optics. The fact that society treats these necessities in life as taboo, something to be embarrassed about and to snigger at because we are unsure how to respond, is a fine example of how a patriarchal society works to keep women confined in both public and private spaces.

When I was doing my research on PIA, the airline was established in 1955 in part to meet the needs of keeping East and West Pakistan connected, it was obvious that to get it off the ground, it needed staff, male and female. I was intrigued by the women who worked for PIA in the 1950s and 1960s, what motivated them, what their background was, given that in this still-more socially conservative age, women working as “airhostesses” or cabin crew were yet-more objectified, with age/size/marital status being important to the job. So, it was not surprising when such women encountered reluctance from the family members. 

These quotes from the BBC article could have been from the women I spoke with: (1) “We had two people who came back and said their families do not want them to work in an undergarment factory.” (2) “My father instantly refused…I had to ask him to let me go and see for myself and if…I don’t like the atmosphere at the factory, I won’t accept the job.”

Women who wanted to work for PIA endured similar sentiments. Families were reluctant or worse at their sisters/daughters working in this “forward” industry and the potential shame. But this was the 1950s/60s, and many of these women were away from home, flying high and experiencing a completely different world. In their taking off, they were breaking new ground, pioneering and enabling others to work in professions other than the usual “respectable” teaching/medicine. And so, to read these quotes from women today, 60 years later and working for a factory that is making undergarments is emblematic of how Pakistan has rolled on the road of more piety and rituals, as a ruse for rule; cover for control.

Faisalabad/Lyallpur is the third largest city in Pakistan, after Karachi and Lahore, and is the hub of the textile industry. It is often referred to as the Manchester of Pakistan. Following the Partition of British India, the city witnessed mass movement of people, both those who left for India and the large number of refugees that transformed this colonial town into the city that it is today. When I was doing my research on the city in the early-2000s, it was a conservative city despite the vast wealth being generated in its bazaars; 20 years on, it continues to be so, perhaps because of the new capital and its renewed performance of customs and commodification of shame.

Read further:

Pippa Virdee, ‘Women and Pakistan International Airlines in Ayub Khan’s Pakistan’, The International History Review, 2019, 41:6, 1341-1366, DOI: 10.1080/07075332.2018.1472622

Saher Baloch, ‘Pakistan: The man trying to improve women’s underwear’, BBC News, 13 June 2021. https://www.bbc.co.uk/news/world-asia-57268691.

UKAFF 2021 Review: Zindagi Tamasha — Filme Shilmy

Filme Shilmy reviews the controversial Pakistani film Zindagi Tamasha by Sarmad Khoosat – premiering at the UK Asian Film Festival.

UKAFF 2021 Review: Zindagi Tamasha — Filme Shilmy

Do read the review above and also try to watch the film if it is showing anywhere nearby. It was premiered at the Belgrade Theatre yesterday and an absolute treat to watch. It transports you into Lahore and a parallel world of state and society, and much, much more.

M.A. Jinnah: official biography as scholarly history?

Hector Bolitho’s Jinnah: Creator of Pakistan is how it ended, in 1954; below is how it started, in 1951-2:

Hotel Metropole (Karachi), 4 February 1952, Bolitho to S.M. Ikram (Ministry of Information & Broadcasting, Government of Pakistan)

‘I have just returned from a conversation with Miss Jinnah [who had ‘issued a statement that she neither knew about, nor had anything to do with, Bolitho’s assignment’] and I feel that time has come for us to review the circumstances in which I have attempted to write the official biography of Quaid-i-Azam.

I have now been in Pakistan for almost one month [government had to issue a press note explaining the decision to engage ‘a foreigner’, in response to ‘a section of Pakistan Press’ raising a controversy], and I feel that, in the present circumstances, it would be dishonest and impossible for me to write a biography that would be worthy of the subject or acceptable to any reputable firm of publishers.

Since I have been engaged on my task, which began on October 22nd [the cabinet of Liaquat Ali Khan had approved minister I.H. Qureshi’s proposal to commission Bolitho on June 20, 1951], I have been refused all help from those officials who knew Quaid-i-Azam personally. K.H. Khurshid, his secretary, now in London, has expressed his regrets that he will not help. M.H. Saiyid, sent to me by you, has also refused to co-operate.

[Khurshid would later publish his Memories of Jinnah (1990, 2001). Saiyid would also publish A Political Study of Jinnah (1953, 1962), titled The Sound of Fury (1981)]

Mazhar Ahmad, A.D.C. to the Quaid, whom you promised as my helper, has not been made available. Prof. Mahmud Brelvi [?], appointed to help me, has not appeared for six days. Although he has been scrupulous in his courtesy, your office has ignored my situation, and has offered no explanation of Prof. Brelvi’s withdrawal. Nor has anyone been deputed to take his place. Nor, in this past month, have I been given even one of the promised documents relating to the Quaid. Nor has Miss Jinnah been approached by the Government. I have taken legal advice, and I find that Miss Jinnah owns the copyright of all her brother’s documents. She has stated to me that these are being used for the biography on which she is now engaged [Ghazanfar Ali Khan (then Pakistan’s Ambassador in Iran) had given a statement ‘welcoming Miss Jinnah’s decision’, adding that ‘she “should have been the first person to be consulted by the Government”’. I.H. Qureshi had been ‘seeking the assistance of his colleagues acquainted with Miss Jinnah to approach her, but these efforts failed’. Her book My Brother (1955) came out in 1987.]

As an indication of the frustration and discouragement I have endured from your department, I would draw your attention to my letter of January 19th. There I mentioned the Aga Khan’s offer to help me. His collaboration would be almost as valuable as that of Miss Jinnah. Sixteen days have passed since I wrote this, without the courtesy of a reply from you.

All this suggests that the Government is apparently unable, or unwilling, to abide by our contract. I consider that I have been deceived in this matter of documents, and the promised help of “members of the family” of the Quaid. I am wondering, therefore, if it would not be best for us to terminate our contract, under terms which I shall made as reasonable as possible. I propose:

  1. That the sum of [2000] guineas – the remainder of my fee – be immediately paid into the office of my solicitors in London (Messrs Shirley Woolmer & Co.) with instructions to them to hold the money until the contract between us is formally cancelled.
  2. That, as compensation for the loss of income from the sales of the English-language book rights in England, America, and the Sub-continent, I be compensated to the extent of [5000] guineas.
  3. According to my contract, I am entitled to hotel accommodation for myself and [researcher] Captain Peel for [4] months. As my house in London is let, I shall require hotel accommodation for myself, and I shall have to compensate Captain Peel, until June 2nd. I therefore propose that the Pakistan Government pay me the sum of GBP 80 per week (based on last week’s bill) from the date of my leaving Pakistan until the period of [4] months is up.
  4. All sum to be free from any deductions of income tax or other dues, and paid in full in London.
  5. That 1st-class sea passage, to be approved by me, for myself and Captain Peel, be provided, as soon as possible, to England.

I am anxious to conclude this matter as soon as possible, because it is desirable for both of us that the story should not become distorted in the world press. I have already been approached to make a statement to a New York newspaper, and to an Indian newspaper.

I have no wish to see the Government embarrassed, and I am sure that we could come to an arrangement. I ask only for speed. Although our agreement was made in London, and, therefore, any legal action would no doubt have to be taken there, I trust that we can close the matter amicably, thus avoiding publicity unpalatable.

[The agreement text spoke of ‘not less than 90, 000 words’ biography for ‘the fee’ of 1000 GBP ‘on the signing of this contract’, 1000 GBP ‘on delivery of the finished manuscript to the publisher’ and, 1000 GBP ‘on publication in England or America (whichever first) + 1st class return sea passages, rail fares, travelling facilities and hotel accommodation for a period of 4 months, a liaison officer and all ‘reasonable assistance and facilities for the purpose of obtaining information, examining documents and interviewing government officials and members of the family’]

A disgruntled Bolitho, before writing the above letter, gave an interview to the Sind Observer, without warning to the government, published on 29 January 1952, in which he ‘hinted at the possibility of his giving up the assignment and seeking compensation because he had put all his work aside to fulfil this request which came first from Liaquat Ali Khan’.

Source: File No. 3 (6) – PMS/52 (Government of Pakistan, Prime Minister’s Secretariat)

What happened in-between, recalled In Quest of Jinnah: Diary, Notes and Correspondence of Hector Bolitho, edited by Sharif al Mujahid, 2007.

Hector Bolitho of New Zealand (1897-1974); author of 59 (!) books & biographer of George VI, Victoria & Albert and Edward VIII). Further Bio details.

Manto, The Short Story Writer Who Chronicled India’s Partition — The Liberating Whispers

Saadat Hasan Manto (1912–1955), one of the greatest storytellers of the 20th century that South Asia has produced. Writing mainly in the Urdu language, he produced 22 collections of short stories, a novel, five series of radio plays, three collections of essays and two collections of personal sketches. His best short stories are held in high […]

Manto, The Short Story Writer Who Chronicled India’s Partition — The Liberating Whispers

The Lost Empire: Gujranwala — Noor Rathore

Just discovered this Blog by Noor Rathore, beautiful mix of text and pictures.

A story that was passed on from generation to generation, almost lost through the passage of time gets a modern retelling.

The Lost Empire: Gujranwala — Noor Rathore

Nation, State and Education

Fazlur Rehman, Ghulam Muhammad, Liaquat Ali Khan, M A Jinnah, Ibrahim Ismail Chundrigar, Abdul Rab Nishtar and Abdul Sattar Pirzada.
Picture credit, Dr. Ghulam Nabi Kazi

In this year of 2020, as debates are generated around Government of Pakistan’s new single national curriculum and its comparison with Government of India’s new national education policy, mind goes back to the first attempts made by a different Government of Pakistan, ‘to evolve a comprehensive national plan in accord with the Objectives Resolution’ of March 1949 (File No. 3 (4)-PMS/50, GoP, PMS).

Fazlur Rahman, then-Minister for Commerce & Education, was born in then-Dacca and was a lawyer-politician of the Bengal Provincial Muslim League, who had served as Revenue Minister of the pre-partitioned province. On 14 September 1949, he sent a 14-page letter (F. No. 14-313/49-Est) to Prime Minister Liaquat Ali Khan, in which he set out his trenchant comments and an accompanying template for the ‘two-fold task’ confronting them namely (1) ‘to lay the foundations of an educational system based on “Islam”’ and (2) to imbue children ‘with an international outlook’.

Recalling the first Pakistan Educational Conference of November 1947 and its resultant educational ideology and institutions – ‘the Advisory Board of Education, the Council of Technical Education and the Inter-University Board’ – he felt that the time had come to overcome ‘the existing system of education, with its alien background, Hindu and Christian ideas, foreign to our ideology’, for as long as it continued, it could not be expected ‘to produce men and women who would realise the value of the Islamic way of life and would make loyal and zealous citizens of Pakistan’.

For the successful achievement of this task, two things were essential: (i) text-books and (ii) teachers. As far as text-books were concerned, the need for Rahman was ‘to draw up the syllabus for every subject on the basis of Islamic ideology (as distinct from instruction in Islamic theology) and get text-books written by competent authors’. He wanted ‘Urdu readers – fundamentally the same all over Pakistan’, necessitating ‘a change in the existing system of publication – whose sole motive is profit-making’. Thus, ‘the Central Government should have them written under supervision’.

There was also the matter of ‘compiling a national history as a kind of reference book’ comprising researched topics like (a) ‘Islamic history and civilisation, (b) the rise and fall of Muslim states all over the world and (c) the contribution made by Muslims to the Indo-Pakistan sub-continent’. For the adoption of Islamic ideology, it was ‘essential to establish a Research Institute in Islamiyat’. As regards teachers and their training, ‘a number of Central Training Institutions’ were needed. These two were ‘fundamental problems which exclusively concerned the Central Government’.

While education was constitutionally the responsibility of the provinces – like in India – their ‘limited resources’ and its ‘all-Pakistan character’ made it ‘incumbent on the Central Government’ to take the lead – ‘from adult to university education’. For ‘democracy and illiteracy go ill together. The illiteracy percentage for India [before 1947] was nearly 90, but with the establishment of Pakistan and the exodus of non-Muslims (educationally more advanced) and the influx of Muslim refugees (to a large extent illiterate)’, there was an increased mass illiteracy in Pakistan. 

Adult education, however, was not ‘mere imparting of literacy’ but included ‘spiritual, civic and vocational motives’ for the creation of a patriotic and productive citizenry. This involved infrastructure, implements, literature, teachers and audio-visual aids, for the provision of which, ‘the Central Government must assume certain powers’. Equally important was ‘the provision of free, universal, compulsory primary education’, involving a vast expenditure. ‘Free, compulsory secondary education’ was ‘unfeasible and must be left to future’.

Anyhow, the Central Government had the ‘clear responsibility’ to produce ‘patriotic citizens not warped by narrow provincialism or alien cultural elements as the Hindu influence in East Bengal’. National solidarity therefore required ‘the speedy revision of curricula and syllabi and re-writing of textbooks’. Another problem was the ‘place of Urdu in national life’. As Jinnah had made it ‘abundantly clear’ that Urdu was to be ‘the national language’ and as, by adopting Hindi in Devanagari script, India had ‘dealt a blow’ to Urdu – ‘the cultural heritage of Indian Muslims’.

For Rahman, language was a ‘potent means’ to maintain ‘cultural ascendancy and a separate political consciousness’. Urdu with its Persian and Arabic words was ‘alien in spirit to Hindu culture’, essentialising its ‘elimination from Indian national life’.  Conversely, in Pakistan it was ‘a matter of vital necessity to have Urdu in Arabic declared forthwith as state language, a compulsory subject in schools’ overcoming the ‘narrow provincialism’ and ‘parochial mentality’ of East Bengal and Sind and resistance of West Punjab and NWFP ‘to assimilate the vocabulary and culture of these two’.

It was a no-brainer for ‘all employees of the Central Government be required to know Urdu’ and a Bureau of Translation be set up for all technical-scientific terms. In this connection, it is important to remember that in 1949, the Hindu community in East Bengal constituted one third of its population, among whom were ‘the caste Hindus – wedded to the Bengali language – the hard-core of resistance’. Rahman was concerned about their potential for ‘an anti-national mentality’ without ‘a pro-Islamic outlook’; ‘dependable citizens of Pakistan with due regard to their religious rights’.

His suggestion was to ‘reconstruct the Bengali language’ with ‘the Arabic script’ thereby ‘putting an end to the disruptive activity being carried in the name of the common culture of the two Bengals’. Moreover, the ‘present Bengali language with its Sanskrit script’ was ‘steeped in Hindu influence, full of Sanskrit words, Hindu mythology and [thus] anti-Islamic’. The Arabic script would ‘eliminate Hindu influence, facilitate adult education, link up East and West Pakistan [and] ensure East Bengal’s willing acceptance of Urdu as a national language’.

In technical education, Pakistan then had only 3 ‘engineering colleges’, like its 3 universities, for a population of 80 million, ‘impaired by the exodus of non-Muslim teachers’. A ‘Grants Committee’ for both was needed. Here, the ‘main obstacle’ was ‘the attitude of the Ministry of Finance’, to which education was a ‘provincial responsibility’. Rahman had forged the establishment of a History Board, Adult Education Centres in East Bengal, a Central Syllabus Committee with its Bengali sub-committee, a Committee of adopting Arabic script and a Committee on Technical Education.

His future proposals were less piece-meal and included the Central Government assuming ‘direct responsibility for the general planning and coordination of education’, a central-provincial sharing of adult education expenditure, central financial assistance for free, compulsory primary education in provinces, Urdu as state language, Arabic script for regional languages and centres for translation, Islamiyat, teachers’ training and a University Grants Committee. 

 

First Cabinet of Pakistan – Ministers of Liaquat Ali Khan & Muhammad Ali Jinnah in 1947

Special report: The founding fathers 1947-1951. The season of light… By Dr Syed Jaffar Ahmed, Dawn.

History and History Writing

TWO books reviewed of A time BYGONE

The two books are placed on a traditional handmade dhurrie/dari by my mother.

ONE is the biography of Jamal Mian (1919-2012), a life across British India, independent India, East Pakistan and Pakistan. The kind of life, which would be unimaginable to most people of the subcontinent today. At the core, this is a detailed history of the changing political landscape of North India told through the life and times of an extraordinary life. The story unfolds with authority and simplicity, the kind of old-fashioned narrative history writing that barely exists. Stories and history writing are barely written like like because they do not command the short-term impact and they take years, generations to unfold through the relationship of the historian and his subject. But importantly it brings together the life and times of an individual and his milieu – showcasing the kind of “Hindustan” that no longer exists, other than in history books.

Pippa Virdee, FRANCIS ROBINSON. Jamal Mian: The Life of Maulana Jamaluddin Abdul Wahab of Farangi Mahall, 1919–2012, The English Historical Review, ceaa186, https://doi.org/10.1093/ehr/ceaa186

TWO is an account of the province(s) of Punjab; rising From the Ashes of 1947 but simultaneously being reimagined. This too is about a political landscape that has been transformed and only exists in the history books, kinder memories and sepia imaginations of some of its people. It is about the shorter, shocking and longer, hardening consequences of dividing the land of five rivers. It too has been written over a long period and reveals the changing nature of my understanding of Partition, from the beginning of my doctoral work in 2000, to the point of this publication in 2017. It has changed further still because history is about engaging with the past through the unfolding present and “reveals how far nostalgia combined with the lingering aftershocks of trauma and displacement have shaped memories and identities in the decades since 1947.”

Sarah Ansari, PIPPA VIRDEE. From the Ashes of 1947: Reimagining Punjab, The American Historical Review, Volume 125, Issue 2, April 2020, Pages 635–636, https://doi.org/10.1093/ahr/rhz695