Tag Archives: Punjab

Dividing Punjab, 1947

Map of Punjab. Scale 1:16 Miles.

Muslim majority Tehsils and contiguous majority areas of Muslims.

Available in the National Documentation Wing, Islamabad.

By the summer of 1947, it was obvious that a one-state solution for British departure from India was not a possibility and so serious discussions were necessary regarding the division of British India. Above is one of the maps used by the Punjab Muslims League, Boundary Commission Office to make its case about how to divide the Punjab.

The 3 June Plan, or as it was more popularly known as the Mountbatten Plan, was accepted by the main leaders, Nehru, Jinnah and the Sikh leader Sardar Baldev Singh. According to the Plan, the areas of Bengal and the Punjab would be divided between Muslim and non-Muslim districts. The Commission consisted of four judges, Justice Din Muhammad and Justice Muhammad Munir (both Muslim) and Justice Mehr Chand Mahajan (Hindu) and Justice Teja Singh (Sikh). The Commission chairman was the British barrister, Sir Cyril Radcliffe. During the public sittings, all the parties were allowed to present their cases to the Commission.

The Muslim case largely rested on the basis that their population majority in contested areas should be considered a major consideration in demarcation of the boundary line. Amongst the numerous documents used by the Commission, the map above highlights the Muslim majority tehsils and contiguous majority areas of Muslims. The yellow area in the middle is around Amritsar in central Punjab. Punjab generally and more specifically this area was incredibly complex and mixed in terms of communal composition and so immediately it is obvious that the dividing up people and land would be no easy task. How would they undo hundreds of years of people living together, co-existing and now being forced into accepting a new nation state? In addition to looking at the distribution of different communities, the Boundary Commission also examined the existing boundary lines of the tehsils, the location of the railway lines, the Grand Trunk Road (which is the main artery of the Punjab and indeed North India, connecting Kabul right through to Calcutta), the rivers and canals, the irrigation system, natural boundaries etc and some of these are marked on the map. Of course each community further made a case before the judges to make recommendations about where the line should be. This is particularly pertinent in areas where we see the concentration or pockets of the “other” community. Justice Mehr Chand Mahajan in his report makes an interesting point about the city of Lahore, which historically and at the time of partition was claimed by all communities. The city has a rich history and was once the seat of power under Ranjit Singh. The Justice says:

“The town of Lahore in my view stands on a special footing. It has been metropolis of the Punjab for several hundred years. Both east and west have contributed to its prosperity. Its economic life has mainly been developed by the enterprise of the non-Muslims. In truth both the Muslims and non-Muslims can legitimately claim Lahore as their own town thought on different grounds…. If I could, I would have suggested that this town should be left in the joint management of both the communities as a free city, it freedom being guaranteed by the two Dominions with a suitable constitution in which one community may not dominate over the other.” (Kirpal Singh (ed), Select Documents on Partition of Punjab 1947 India and Pakistan (Delhi: National Book Shop, 1991, p333-4).

See some of the documents related to Indian independence at British Library: http://www.bl.uk/reshelp/findhelpregion/asia/india/indianindependence/indiapakistan/index.html

Read commentary and analysis by Lucy Chester, ‘The 1947 Partition: Drawing the Indo-Pakistani Boundary’. http://www.unc.edu/depts/diplomat/archives_roll/2002_01-03/chester_partition/chester_partition.html

A short hop from Ludhiana to Lyallpur

 

Getting into a taxi can often lead to interesting conversations with the drivers. So when one evening I request a Careem (much like Uber around the world), I get into the car and as it happens quite often, the driver is usually baffled by the name (not an obvious Pakistani name) and the person who is sitting in the car (could be Asian but looks “foreign”). I explain that I am indeed Punjabi and use my best Punjabi accent to prove the point! However, the response from the driver is quite often in Urdu, even though I carry on speaking in Punjabi. This will continue or then sometimes the driver will feel comfortable enough to speak in Punjabi.

So then on this one evening, a young driver who turns out to be from Faisalabad (previously known as Lyallpur); he lives not far from Samundri, which is a tehsil of Faisalabad district. Lyallpur district began life in 1904 following the development of the canal colonies in West Punjab in the late nineteenth century. From being a small market town, Lyallpur has been transformed into Pakistan’s main agro-industrial centre following the partition of Punjab. One which has fundamentally changed Lyallpur in modern times is migration. Firstly following the development of these canal colonies and secondly, the migration following Partition in 1947.

Having discovered the driver was from Faisalabad, I choose to converse with him in Punjabi. He was both astonished and ecstatic at the same time. The joy of sharing the same language and accent as you, can sometimes do this to people. He had been in Lahore for some months now and was making a living driving for Careem. The familiar tones of someone, and in this case someone who he thought was a foreigner, speaking the same language that he had perhaps not heard so frequently since he arrived in Lahore immediately allowed us to bond during the short ride. The ride is in fact less than ten minutes, but it is amazing what can be gleaned in these short conversations.

As we discussed our mutual language I suggested to him that the elders in his family might have migrated over from Jullundar or Ludhiana, and he immediately said that yes, his paternal grand-father was from Jullundar. The distance that divide these two places is approximately 250 km. He came over after partition and settled in Lyallpur. I went on the make the connections between the two places, the place where I grew up on the other side of the border, and the place on this side of the border but both conversing in the same language in a neutral city. Perhaps it had never occurred to him that he also had some connection to the Indian side of Punjab via the language that he speaks.

At the end of the ride, his joy at making these small connections translated into him refusing to take any money from me. He said he could not do this. Sometimes life brings about things which cannot be measured in monetary terms, they are passing moments, glimpses of human kindness that leave you feeling richer.

Borders and Boundaries

As an academic my main pre-occupation has been centred around the partition of India and creation of Pakistan in 1947. I have been fortunate enough to have been able to spend time on both sides of the border, comparing the impact of this division on the people of Punjab; the area that has been severely affected by the decision taken in 1947. From being the bread basket of British India and the major recruiting ground for the colonial Indian army, East Punjab becomes the hostile border with Pakistan and West Punjab, while politically dominate, recedes culturally. The culturally, linguistically and economically rich land of Punjab is Balkanised after 1947 and now exists as a mere skeleton of its former self. The land has been reconfigured along religious identities which evaporate the pluralistic history; it tries to re-imagine itself for the new global order but lacks the former strength it had.

For the past 14 years I have crossed the official border crossing at Wagha/Attari between India and Pakistan numerous times; I’m lucky because I don’t have a green or blue passport, both of which immediately open you up tedious amounts of scrutiny. By virtue of being “foreign” and at the same time a “desi”, you get to experience this place in a different manner. Although I have Indian heritage, the Indians are on the whole sterner, matter of fact during the immigration and customs. Sometimes I will strike a conversation and there is rare chance to get their views. For example, during my last trip, the Indian official wanted me to recommend some history books to read, especially those that were impartial. On the Pakistan side, there are of course always questions, inquisitions about what, why, who…but there appears to be more “conversation”. There is always intrigue and sometimes joy that a “foreigner” would want to spend time in Pakistan. I have also been unlucky enough to be stuck on both sides of the border just as it is about to close for crossing. And both sides have blamed the other, “madam ji, we will let you go through but the Indians/Pakistanis will not accept you”. Both behave in this rather childish and tit for tat manner. It is a shame then that politics is also conducted in this manner. While Delhi and Islamabad exchange words of war, the ordinary people suffer, as they have suffered in the past 69 years.

The new global trend for hyper nationalism, as seen in the impact Trump is having in America, the growing influence, both emotionally and politically, of right wing politics can also be seen in the UK, France, Denmark, Sweden, and so socially progressive countries which are now retracting and adopting more defensive policies. While in India, the impact of Modi and his cosy relationship with RSS has unleashed and legitimatised a form of nationalism and patriotism which makes it difficult to question governments and their policies. In the name of showing loyalty to the state, Indianess/Hinduness and the armed forces, it has become unpatriotic to say anything which may offend. Have we become so insecure that we cannot even tolerate any scrutiny? Surely we need reflect on our past and how we face the challenges of an increasingly globalised society. We cannot live in isolation, putting up barriers, preventing the movement of people and creating homogenous spaces. India and Pakistan did this in 1947 and we live with the legacies of that today. Homogenous (religiously or ethnically) societies does not equate with security, peace and harmony. Look at the challenges Pakistan has faced since it was founded as a country for the Muslims of India. Working together for a solution is the only option. But amongst this raft of change has also been the enormous disconnect between the politicians and the people and this is a global challenge.

It is therefore staggering to think that as we approach 70 years of independence, little has been gained and little has been achieved in our relationship with our closest neighbour. We cannot deny that we were once attached together and there are many cultural, ethnic, linguistic commonalities that unite us, yet we are determined to focus on the differences and maintain the status quo of a sibling rivalry. Unfortunately, there is no parent who can step in try to patch up things, we have to be mature enough to do that ourselves. Otherwise, this rivalry will remain for the next 70 years. People away from border states like Punjab and especially Kashmir cannot comprehend the negative impact this rivalry has had on the mind-set and livelihoods of the people. They live in the shadows of this rivalry, even though there is much more which unites them than divides them. They also have a right to live in peace and aspire for prosperity, we should not be so selfish to deny them this.

Gurdwara Rori Sahib, Eminabad

Gurdwara Rori Sahib is two km from Eminabad and about 55 km north of Lahore. It is located not too far from Gujranwala and the Grand Trunk Road. The Gurdwara marks an important site, where Guru Nanak after the destruction of the town had stayed with Bhai Lalo. The plaque at the gurdwara reads, ‘This is the holy place where Guru Nanak Dev ji came in his first pilgrimage. Guru Nanak dev I came here at Bhai Laalo ji’s home (Eminabad). It was a beautiful and silent place away from city, this’s why Guru Nanak ji sat down here and was prayed the almighty god regularly.’

The gurdwara was originally constructed on a large estate of nine marabbas. This has gradually been reduced down now. The land was originally endowed to the gurdwara during Maharaja Ranjit’s period and the gurdwara’s architecture is also from this period. The location and size of the gurdwara attracted large crowds of Sikhs, particularly during the Vaisakhi festival in April. There used to be a week-long fair during this period and attracted people from all the surrounding areas. The estate left today is a reminder of the old grandeur that would have existed when there was a sizeable Sikh population prior to 1947.

The entrance to Rori Sahib is grand, imposing and awe-inspiring, with the beautiful exposed red brick. The dome work and the columns are all in cut brick work. Accompanying the gurdwara is a large sarovar, which when I revisited the gurdwara ten years later, the water had evaporated.

Below are some of the pictures from when I first visited the gurdwara in 2006 and then most recently in October 2016.

Rori Sahib pictures from 2006.

 

Rori Sahib revisited in 2016.

Golgappas/Panipuri

Golgappas have to be one of the most popular street foods in India. For me it’s a ritual, when I go to Ludhiana, I have to have golgappas. It is a simple hollow, fired puri, made with flour or semolina. The flour ones are more crispy and more popular. A small hole is inserted and then filled with any combination of chickpeas, onions, potatoes and then filled with flavoured water. The water is what makes the golgappa; from simple tamarind based pani, the street vendor now has multiple flavours. Sweet, tangy, spicy to appeal to all taste buds. Affordable by all and enjoyed by all, this is the simple attraction that keeps bringing me back to India.

Eating vegetables in Lahore

Being a vegetarian in Lahore is not easy. It is a city dominated by the carnivorous types. Meat is everywhere; from street vendors to top-end restaurants. The more the meat the merrier. But it’s not just the simple question of the quantity, it is also the status afforded to gosht-meat. Meat consumption is also dominated with the wealthy rather than the poor, who still consume a more balanced diet. Thus there is evidently a distinction between the class of people who eat meat. Having said that during my first visit to HyperStar (one of the largest malls in Pakistan), I noticed how expensive some vegetables were. Especially those which are not locally in demand. Mushrooms were nowhere to be seen and peppers/capsicums were priced exorbitantly. Price will most likely follow demand but why is that some vegetables and lentils are even more expensive than meat, surely this is not right.

This gradual shift of people’s eating habits has hardly been noticed. In countries with high levels of poverty, it is often a question about getting enough to eat rather thinking about over-consumption. But undoubtedly Lahore before 1947 was not so dominated by meat, the diet would have been varied to reflect the multi-cultural nature of the city. Many of the elder inhabitants attest to different eating habits as recently as the 1970s and even the 1980s. The change in what people eat is not just to do with the political and demographic changes brought about by 1947, they are also to do with modern eating habits. Yet interestingly meat consumption in Pakistan has gone up particularly when we compare it to Bangladesh. The main difference between the two is most likely explained by the fact that the Bengali diet has a lot more fish than real “meat”.

The Real Meat http://www.dawn.com/news/1207254

I’m not a vegetarian for any religious reasons, the habit started more out of change in circumstances and then for ideological and pro-animal reasons. These early encounters in my teens have subsequently remained with me. Over recent years I have become more flexible but a few things stand, no red meat and certainly a preference for veggie food whenever possible. Without preaching, I have encouraged my friends to reduce meat consumption, starting with maybe abstaining from meat once a week. There are of course some sound environmental and health benefits to a vegetarian diet.

Eat less meat to avoid dangerous global warming, scientists say https://www.theguardian.com/environment/2016/mar/21/eat-less-meat-vegetarianism-dangerous-global-warming

Can eating less meat help reduce climate change? http://www.bbc.com/news/science-environment-34899066

As I’m living and working in Lahore, food is an important part of my “experience”. So it’s sad to say that while Lahore has embraced gosht-eating so wholeheartedly, it has also forgotten how to cook and handle vegetables. Some households still produce some good basic veggie food, others experiment with more fashionable veggie food, perhaps for health reasons. Overwhelmingly though they are gosht lovers. The kebabs and tandoori chicken might be unparalleled but it has be said that across the border in India, there is much more choice and acceptance of veg food. India perhaps is the only place where the term veg/non-veg is used; it highlights the importance and priority on veggie foods as opposed to it being a side order. India also has one of the lowest rates of meat consumption in the world, though this varies from state to state. The choice and creativity in veg food in India is unparalleled I think.

Mapped: The countries that eat the most meat http://www.telegraph.co.uk/travel/maps-and-graphics/world-according-to-meat-consumption/

Top Meat Consuming Countries In The World http://www.worldatlas.com/articles/top-meat-consuming-countries-in-the-world.html

My solution is let’s make vegetarianism fashionable and cool! The same way that perhaps having meat became so pervasive and a marker of upward mobility, perhaps we can do the same with opting for the healthier veggie option. By making it fashionable perhaps the elite in Lahore can embrace this trend and start spreading some health conscious habits.