Islamisation of Pakistani Social Studies Textbooks
By Yvette Claire Roser Rupa & Co
Rs. 195, Pages: 109
Contrary to claims of professional historians, there is really nothing as completely objective writing of history. After all, not everything, even of significance, of past happenings can possibly be included in a text, and writers of history books have to pick and choose from events that they deem fit to be recorded. This process is determined, inter alia, by the subjective biases of the history writer as well as his or her own social and institutional location. Besides, history writing also entails evaluation of the past events. Even here the personal biases come into play.
Commissioning of history writing projects by the state exacerbates the biases. The state wishes to mould its citizens in a particular way, to make them what it considers as ‘good’ and ‘law-abiding’ citizens, who have completely internalized the underlying ideology of the state. The state, in its capacity of representative of a country’s ruling class, seeks to impose through these texts the hegemonic ideas of this class upon its citizenry. No wonder then that such texts generally parrot the state-centric view of history.
This incisive critique of state-sponsored social science textbooks in Pakistan highlights the convoluted politics of historiography and what this means for the production of a ‘social commonsense’ for a state’s citizenry. Although Roser does not say it in so many words, the current turbulence in Pakistan, cannot be seen in isolation of the narrow political agenda that the state, has consistently pursued.
Ross’s study focuses on the 'Pakistan Studies' textbooks introduced in the reign of dictator General Zia ul-Haq in the mid-1970s. Pakistan Studies moulded country's history and geography in such a fashion as to instill in students an unquestioning loyalty to the official ‘Ideology of Pakistan’ or the nazariya-e Pakistan. This ideology is based on the completely bankrupt notion of the Muslims and Hindus of the pre-Partition Indian subcontinent as constituting two homogeneous and wholly irreconcilable ‘nations’. It claims that Muslims and Hindus have never been able to live amicably together and had nothing in common. Formation of Pakistan was, therefore, the natural corollary.
Rosser examines several defining and characteristic features of the Pakistani social science textbooks. First among them is their extreme anti-Indianism. This is a reflection of the fact that the rationale for the creation and continued existence of the state of Pakistan, is premised on the notion of undying and perpetual hatred of and opposition to India. India thus comes to be presented as viscerally opposed to Pakistan and as constituting a mortal threat to its very existence. This hyper-chauvinistic espousal of Pakistani nationalism is based on a constant reinforcement of an almost crippling sense of being besieged by what is projected as an ‘evil’ neighbour.
Secondly, this anti-Indianism is reinforced by repeated negative portrayal of the Hindus and their faith. Its followers are presented as mean and cruel, and constantly scheming against Muslims and their faith. Hindus, like Muslims, thus come to be presented in strikingly stereotypical terms. They are portrayed as two solid, monolithic blocs, and no references are made to intra-Islam or intra-Hindu diversity or differences. The only identity that they are projected as possessing is that of religion, which is presented in starkly reified terms that often have little resonance with empirical reality. In the process, the lived realities of Islam and Hinduism in South Asia are completely ignored in favour of literalist, ‘orthodox’ and textual understandings. ‘Popular’ relig-ious traditions, such as certain forms of Sufism and Bhakti, that bring people of diverse communal backgrounds together, are totally ignored, because they obviously strike at the roots of the so called two-nation theory.
Thirdly, the textbooks present Pakistani history as synonymous with the history of political conquests by successive Muslim rulers, starting with the Arab commander Muhammad bin Qasim in the mid 7th century. All these invaders and rulers, so the books piously claim, were goaded by a sense of religious mission to establish ‘Islamic’ rule in the region. Pakistan is thus projected as the culmination of these aspirations. Contrary to what is popularly known about him, Muhammad Ali Jinnah, the founder of Pakistan, is presented as an ‘orthodox’ Muslim, allegedly inspired by the vision of establishing an ‘Islamic’ state run by clerics, something totally at variance with Jinnah's concept of Pakistan. The fact that most of the Muslim conquerors that these texts lionise might actually have been inspired by less noble motives—to plunder or rule—is, of course, conveniently ignored. Islam comes to be seen as the sole motor of history, with other factors, such as power and economics, having, at best, only a minor role to play. The pre-Islamic history of the region that constitutes Pakistan today, for instance Indus Valley civilization, is hardly mentioned.
In other words, every effort is made in the textbooks to present Pakistan as an extension of ‘Muslim’ West Asia, instead of a part of the Indic-dominated South Asia. Not surprisingly, the texts single out particular historical figures who are known for their battles against Hindu rulers as heroes such as Muhammad bin Qasim, Mamhud Ghaznavi and Aurangzeb. Other Muslim rulers, most notably Akbar, who sought to reconcile Hindus and Muslims and promote a generous ecumenism, are either ignored or reviled.
Even in context to depictions of certain religious figures, ‘orthodox’ ulema who stressed the claim of the inferiority of the Hindus and advised Muslim rulers to take harsh measures against them are hailed as heroes of Islam, while Sufis, who sought to preach love and tolerance between Muslims and others have been left out.
The textbooks purport to tell the story of the Muslims of South Asia from the point of view of Pakistan’s ruling elites. In the process, history comes to be presented as simply a long list of battles and other ‘achievements’ (whether real or imaginary) of a long chain of Muslim rulers have been given a go by. ‘Ordinary’ people have no voice, being completely invisiblised in these texts.
Rosser’s findings are of critical importance, particularly in the context of growth of radical groups in Pakistan, impelled by a version of Islam very similar to the one these texts espouse. Obviously, explanations of the growing threat of radical Islamism in Pakistan cannot ignore the crucial role of these texts, which are compulsory reading for all Pakistani students, thus playing a central role in moulding of their worldviews. The texts are also a reflection of, as well as a cause for, the pathetic state of social science research and discourse in present-day Pakistan.
Rosser’s Indian readers need not have much cause to be self-congratulatory, however. Althou-gh historiography in India is certainly more sophisticated in many senses than in Pakistan, a significant section of Indian history writers, particularly of the Hindutva brand, are no different from those Pakistani writers whose texts Rosser examines. Indeed, they speak the same language of hatred and communal supremacy, propelling the same tired, debunked myth of Hindus and Muslims being perpetually at odds with each other. Likewise, they are both profoundly anti-democratic, having no space for the voices and aspirations of socially, culturally and economically oppressed groups, upon whose enforced silence is premised the artifice of the ‘nation’ (‘Islamic’ or ‘Hindu’, as the case might be), whose sole representative ruling elites claim to be.
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June 2009 |
