Friday, September 28, 2007

Dalit become prist in Bihar - October 8, 2007, India Today

[A new wave of reform is all set to change the religious order in a castiest Bihar with Dalits entering into priesthood - “We have Manusmriti that defines varna (caste system) but we also have a Constitution that ensures equal rights to all” ]

India Today
October 8, 2007

The New Holy Order
By Farzand Ahmed

Depending on where you stand, it could be called divine intervention, or just another social gimmick. But in a state notorious for its caste wars and violence, it has the potential to change the old religious order. The latest trend, which can bridge the gap between the upper and the lower castes, is Dalitisation. And a beginning of sorts has been made by the Bihar State Board of Religious Trusts (BSBRT), led by its administrator Acharya Kishore Kunal, who recently made a Dalit, Janardan Manjhi, the chief priest of Ram Janaki temple at Paliganj, near Patna.

According to Deputy Chief Minister Sushil Kumar Modi—who attended the sangat-pangat (pray together and eat together) function on the occasion of Dalits being made pujaris in Hindu temples, which have from time immemorial been the fiefdom of the Brahmins, this campaign would help bridge the caste divide and create social harmony. This wasn’t the first time when a Dalit was chosen to head a prestigious temple. Manjhi is, in fact, fourth such Dalit to head a temple and his election was followed by a unique event in the state: the famous 300-year-old Khaki Baba Ram Janaki Thakurbari at Hilsa in Nalanda district came under the direct control of the Dalits with the help of bsbrt.
On August 10, the upper caste Hindus of the locality, with the support of Valmiki Das, a mahant, set up an all-Dalit Trust to break the Brahminical hold over society and religion. According to Kunal, a former IPS officer and a Sanskrit scholar and the chief campaigner for Dalitisation of temples in the state, a Paswan was elected as the head of the trust while its members belonged to Ravidas, Chamar, Rajak and other Dalit sub-castes.

These instances exemplify a shift in attitude in a castiest Bihar. That such a revolutionary step will ultimately lead to a revolution, is also evident from the fact that there hasn’t been any resistance from the local people, who not only enthusiastically participated in selecting and accepting Dalit priests, but also overwhelmingly attended the sangat-pangat, marking an end to untouchablility (at least at the local level). Now every week, all sections of people assemble at temples—headed by Dalits—for common prayers and a paath (recitation) of Hanuman Chalisa.

There are some parallels between the Dalitisation of religious centres in Bihar and an earlier movement in the 1920s, the Janeo Pahno Andolan (sacred thread movement). People belonging to lower castes weren’t allowed to wear janeo and in a show of defiance, the Yadavs had launched this movement. They even started using ‘Singh’ as part of their surname in a mark of protest but this didn’t last long as they faced stiff resistance from the upper castes, who feared this move would be used by the lower castes to climb the socio-economic ladder. There were clashes between the upper and the lower castes, which took a violent turn and eventually the movement was abandoned. But sociologists feel there’s a greater acceptance to the present move, which marks a noticeable change in the feudal mindset. Change in the attitudes of people might just change the face of society in Bihar, they believe.

Dalitisation is also being seen as a unique way of democratising trusts and temples as well as a cleansing drive to rid these religious bodies of goondas and land-grabbers. Last year, when Kunal was appointed the administrator of BSBRT, he had discovered that about 90 per cent of the temples were directly or indirectly under the control of criminals. He spent a year trying to bring them out of the clutches of musclemen. Having done that, he shifted his attention to the Dalitisation movement.

In fact, the process had started way back in the early ’80s when Kunal got involved with the Mahavir temple near Patna railway station. He first helped in the building of the temple through shramdan (voluntary labour). On June 30, 1993, as the secretary of Mahavir Mandir, he took a revolutionary step by installing a Dalit priest, Phalhari Suryavanshi Das from Ayodhya, as its head.

His move was accompanied by a change in political stance in the state—chief minister Lalu Prasad Yadav’s social justice campaign targeting the exploitative nature of the Brahmins was at its peak then. The three highly respected priests—Ramchandra Paramahans, Mahant Avidhyanath of Baba Gorakhnath Dham and Mahant Avadh Kishore Das had put a seal of their approval by supervising the ceremony. Lalu had even gone a step ahead and declared senior Dalit leader Ramai Ram as ‘Shankaracharya’. This honour, bestowed on a Dalit leader, worked in Kunal’s favour and, in turn, Ram has now promised full support to his campaign. “I welcome and support his (Kunal’s) efforts as it will have a positive impact on the society,” he says.

However, Kunal’s move faced opposition from many quarters. Angered by the Dalitisation of religious places, Shankaracharya of Puri Nishchalan-and had refused to meet him during the annual Magh Mela in 2004. But Kunal was determined to prove through the vedas, puranas, scriptures and ancient historical text as per Hindu philosophy that Sudras or Dalits always occupied a respectable position in society.

After studying and researching the subject for 20 years, Kunal has now come out with the first volume of his book Dalit Deva Bhava. This 700-page tome, punctuated with excerpts from Sanskrit texts, breaks many a myth about the caste factor. Kunal also rejects the theory that Sudras had no right to hear or recite the puranas or the Gayatri Mantra. He proves that tradition was twisted by the Brahminical and feudal sections of society for their own convenience and gain control over Hindu society. “We are trying to create awareness that all restrictions have been imposed without any religious sanction,” says Kunal. However, he clarifies, “We don’t take a purohit’s work from a Dalit pujari if he is not well-versed with the Sanskrit language. But nobody is barred from performing the rituals.”

Kunal’s painstaking research also reveals that, contrary to popular belief, all famous temples in the country—Balaji at Tirupati, Jagannath at Puri, Lingaraj at Bhubaneswar and Ranganath at Srirangam in Tamil Nadu—had been associated with Dalits but changes in the social structure subsequently had led to a change in the religious hierarchy. “We have Manusmriti that defines varna (caste system) but we also have a Constitution that ensures equal rights to all,” he reiterates. Supporting Kunal’s research, anthropologist Dr Sachchindra Narayan says Dalit is not a caste in itself but it has often been used in political parlance without its scientific basis being understood. “These words are conveniently used by people for political gains, but society gets nothing in return. So what is happening is a much-needed and long-awaited part of the cycle of social change. And it is better if people take this change in their stride.”

Friday, September 21, 2007

What became of police officials allegedly involved in Murtaza Bhutto’s murder?

What became of police officials allegedly involved in Murtaza Bhutto’s murder?

What became of police officials allegedly involved in Murtaza Bhutto’s murder?
By By Fatima Bhutto
9/20/2007
KARACHI: On September 20, 11 years ago, Mir Murtaza Bhutto, my father and an elected member of the parliament, was returning home from a public meeting on the outskirts of Karachi. He was accompanied by Ashiq Jatoi, Sattar Rajpar, Shajad Haider Ghakro, Rahim Brohi, Yar Mohammad Baloch, and Wajahat Jokhio.

My family and I were not the only ones waiting for my father. There were 70 to 100 police officers placed yards away from our 70 Clifton residence, including several high-level police officials. Some of the officers were in sniper positions in the nearby trees. The streetlights had been shut, the roads cordoned off, and the guards of the nearby embassies were told to leave their posts and retreat within their premises.

As the car carrying my father approached our house, they were stopped by a police contingent. When my father exited the car, the police opened fire. All of the seven men were fatally wounded. My father was shot several times, but the shot that killed him was fired execution style on his neck. Ashiq Jatoi was also shot at point blank range at the back of his head. The victims were left to bleed without any medical attention – the aim was murder, after all– under the eyes and ears of the police officers for half-an-hour to 45 minutes. All of the seven men were then taken to different locations, none to emergency hospitals.

My father was taken to Mideast, a dispensary. I lost my father at midnight that night.

Benazir Zardari was the prime minister at the time. Her government did not arrest any of the police officers. Her government chose to arrest all the survivors and witnesses, two of whom died mysteriously in police custody. The police remained free.

In time, they were honourably reinstated to their positions and duly and doubly promoted. The tribunal set up to investigate my father’s murder concluded that the assassination could not have taken place ‘without approval from the highest level of government’. We know what the highest level of government was then and where the highest level of government is today but on this, the eleventh anniversary of my father’s assassination, I want to talk about the senior-most police officers responsible for the murder and the various ways in which they were rewarded for their role in the elimination of Mir Murtaza Bhutto.

All these men placed themselves at the scene of the murder. All of these men claimed there was an encounter; the tribunal concluded forensically that there was no such thing. It was an assassination. Here are the facts.

Shoaib Suddle was the deputy inspector-general (DIG) of Karachi at the time of the killing; he was one of the most senior officers at the scene of the crime. In the run-up to the American invasion of Afghanistan, he was promoted to inspector-general (IG) and shifted to Balochistan where he could facilitate Operation Enduring Freedom. Mr Suddle was on the fast track for promotion and after he had secured the Wild West for the Americans, he was made director-general of the National Police Academy (NPA) where he chaired the Police Reforms Committee. Shoaib Suddle, a man charged with murder, handled the police reforms. He is currently heading the committee of the NPA that deals with crimes against women.

Wajid Durrani, alleged to be the coordinator of the assassination, was the senior superintendent of police (SSP) District South, Karachi, at the time of the killing. Mr Durrani, another upstanding member of the police force, was promoted to additional deputy inspector-general (ADIG). You may remember him from recent news headlines; he is now the DIG Traffic of Karachi and is being taken to task over some recent traffic jams. How just.

Rai Tahir, who stopped the car and allegedly gave the signal to fire once my father exited the vehicle, was the assistant superintendent of police (ASP) in Clifton in 1996. He was promoted to district police officer (DPO) and moved to the Punjab, where he remains today.

Shahid Hayat was another ASP from the Saddar district. He was promoted to ADIG, then DPO Thatta, and is now prowling Jinnah airport as the Deputy Director of Federal Investigation Agency (FIA). He handles immigration and passport control.

Agha Jamil was the station house officer (SHO) of the Napier police station in Karachi and was later promoted to work under his old comrade at the traffic department as a deputy superintendent (DSP).

If this reads like a laundry list of police corruption, that’s because it is.

Shakaib Qureshi was the Superintendent of the Police in Saddar. Mr. Qureshi absconded from the country illegally and now lives in London. He is alleged to have been involved in the killing of Ashiq Jatoi, who died with a point blank shot to the back of his head. He is currently working as a lawyer in the offices of Clifford Chance, a firm which calls itself a ‘truly global’ law firm and counts as its values ‘ambition, commitment, quality, and community’. Shakaib Qureshi has never returned to Pakistan to face the charges against him; not everyone is fortunate enough to have deals crafted in their honour.

Masood Sharif was the director-general of the Intelligence Bureau, which reported directly to the office of the prime minister. In Pakistan, ‘police intelligence’ and ‘law and order’ are uniquely ironic oxymoron. Mr Sharif, once he was honourably absolved of any guilt by the police department in an internal review, retired from his post. He was not promoted as such, but Mr Sharif was absolutely rewarded. He was given a position on the Central Committee of Benazir Zardari’s PPP. Only the chairperson of the party, in this case Mrs Zardari, can induct people into the hallowed and honourable Central Committee.

These are not the only men complicit in the murder; they’re just the big guns (no pun).

These facts are all a matter of public record.

Curiosity impels people to ask about the not-so hidden hand, the highest level of government, so I will answer. Asif Zardari, lifelong senator and current PPP poster boy, now lives in New York City in the Trump Towers apartment complex on Fifth Avenue with his dog Maximillian. In a somewhat magical move, he has been given a position on the board of the Oxonian Society, Oxford University’s networking organization. The president of the Oxonian society, a gentleman named Joe Pascal (joe@oxoniansociety.com), introduced Mr Zardari, who joins CEOs, captains of industry, and Rhodes scholars, as a ‘Pakistani political prisoner’. Someone ought to write to Mr Pascal (joe@oxoniansociety.com) and tell him that murder cases, narcotics cases, and corruption cases worth billions of dollars do not make a Nelson Mandela. I know I will (joe@oxoniansociety.com). Mrs Zardari resides between London and Dubai. She plans to return to Pakistan in one month’s time and be hailed as your next prime minister and Gen Musharraf’s new best friend. Mrs. Zardari is currently being tried in a Swiss court for corruption. There is also a case in Spain’s courts against her for corruption – the evidence was unearthed after the Spanish police were following paper trails after the 2004 Madrid bombings and came across some suspicious looking accounts belonging to Mrs Zardari. Mrs Zardari has numerous corruption cases lodged against her in her own country. There have been allegations that she and her partner stole $1.5 to 2 billion from the Pakistani treasury. She’s on her way back for round three.

Eleven years later and none of the above police officers were removed from their posts of duty. None of the above police officers upheld their sworn duty, which is to safeguard and protect the citizens of this country from harm.

Eleven years later they have all been rewarded for their role in the murder.

Eleven years later we have a court case in which the defence shows no interest because they have no fear that they’ll ever face punishment for their crimes – how many men and women were murdered in extra-judicial killings in Karachi from 1993-1996? Thousands. Check the records.

My father is only one of those victims. They have killed many more and gotten away with it and they will kill many more so long as violence is politically rewarded and injustice is tolerated by the highest levels of the government.

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Translation:
Teacher: Kalu what is your father's name?
Student: Sir, Sadeq.
Teacher: Idiot, how many times shall I tell you that you should preface any name with a "Mohammad"?
(after a few days)
Teacher: Kalu what has your mother cooked today?
Student: Sir, Mohammad Pumpkin.

Translation:

Thursday, September 20, 2007

Infamous cartoon - Arifur Rahman - Naam

Translation:

* Boy, what is your name?
- My name is Babu.
* It is customary to mention Muhammed before the name.

* What is your father’s name?
- Muhammed Abu

* What’s this in your lap?
- Muhammed cat