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Why
are first-time visitors to India from Pakistan, or the other way
around, always surprised by the warm reception they get from ordinary
people? "We never thought people would be so friendly,"
say most Indians when they visit Pakistan. And you hear almost identical
responses from most Pakistanis who visit India. So then why do we
grow up expecting the other country and its citizens to be unfriendly
and hostile?
I
think I have finally cracked the puzzle. In the three days I spent
in Karachi in September, the news that the English language newspapers
carried of India consisted almost exclusively of items about Kashmiri
deaths at the hands of Indian security forces, statements about
Kashmir made by groups abroad, or pronouncements by Indian political
leaders critical of Pakistan. I gather that the Urdu press would
not have carried much more than that.
Over the same period in India, it is more than likely that
Indian newspapers reported anything President Pervez Musharraf said
about India, news about arms sales to Pakistan, anti-India statement
by even minor Pakistani politicians or by politicians outside Pakistan
and perhaps something on cricket.
In
sum, the media in both countries concentrates on politics and the
extremes of politics and little else. Some English language papers
do carry columnists from each other's countries. But these columns
appear on the edit page. Their presence, or the sentiments expressed
by the respective writers, does not alter the nature of the reporting
in the main sections of the paper. An event-driven media concentrates
on reporting only the sensational. The mundane, everyday processes
that help us to understand other countries, other societies, other
cultures are absent from the columns of our newspapers. Thus, generations
of Indians and Pakistanis have grown up knowing precious little
about other concerns in each other's countries.
Apart from news, or limited news, the other great communicator
is cinema and more recently, television. But even television serials
represent, at best, a partial and distorted image. Take for instance
some of the more popular Hindi serials telecast on satellite channels
which Pakistanis told me they loved. They give the impression that
Indians live in joint families, where women dress in silk sarees,
smear generous quantities of red sindoor in their hair and spend
their time sorting out complicated relationships with husbands,
children and mothers-in-law. Are such women typical of Indian women?
Of course, they are not. But how would people in Pakistan know otherwise?
And Hindi films - adored on both sides of the border - are
another distorted mirror. Apart from the gloss of unreality that
coats the average Bollywood offering, the recent exaggerated surge
of patriotism in India has been mirrored in the content of these
films. On this visit I realised that not all Pakistanis are as enamoured
by Hindi films, as we in India believe they are. Several people
complained about the routine depiction of all Pakistanis as villains
in Hindi films. "Why should your film producers want to spread
such hatred towards us?" a driver in Karachi, who is a Hindi-film
enthusiast, asked me. My response was to reassure him that Bollywood
films present an exaggerated version of what a few people in India
think but certainly do not reflect the views of the majority.
From
conversations with some journalists in Pakistan, I gathered that
there are people in the media who believe that in India, despite
its democratic claims, the press is not entirely free of government
control and that this is particularly evident in the way events
in Kashmir are reported. I would readily admit that in the past,
major Indian newspapers did conform to the government's line on
Kashmir. Many still do. But of late, a substantial section of the
mainstream Indian press has broken away from its "security"
obsession of the past. It now reports human rights violations in
Kashmir, what ordinary Kashmiri men and women feel about their future
and about the failure of Delhi's politics. Many such media organisations
now have Kashmiris reporting from the region unlike the past where
a Delhi-based correspondent would "parachute" into Kashmir
for a few days and report developments based almost entirely on
briefings from the army and the intelligence agencies. This alone
has dramatically altered the quality of reporting from the troubled
region.
I was also asked how secular-minded Indians could allow the
government to rewrite textbooks, alter historical facts in them
so that a distorted view of Islam is taught to Indian school-children
and tolerate the election of someone like Narendra Modi despite
what happened in Gujarat last year. Those who asked this question
clearly did not know that an active civil society was challenging
every such step taken by the government, that there were dozens
of independent reports on the Gujarat carnage, that the press had
been persistently critical of Modi and his government. Also that
the media and human rights groups, in particular the National Human
Rights Commission, had pursued the Gujarat story. As a result, in
a path-breaking move, the Supreme Court had intervened, reprimanded
the Gujarat government and asked for a re-trial of one of the most
crucial cases in Gujarat - the Best Bakery case.
Matching
such ignorance is India's lack of knowledge about the Pakistani
press, the fact that despite an ostensible absence of democracy,
Pakistani newspapers and magazines have been critical of their government,
carried devastating exposes about corruption in high places and
human rights abuses and have done all this despite the risks journalists
face from the powerful in their country. Predictably, the only time
we come to know that Pakistan also has investigative journalism
is when there are stories about Mumbai's underworld in Pakistani
magazines, including Newsline. Such stories are then featured on
the front pages of leading Indian newspapers.
In India, the kind of reporting we get on Pakistan makes
people believe that the whole country has turned fundamentalist,
that people are pulling down advertisements depicting women, that
soon all Pakistani women will have to wear the burqa as did women
in Afghanistan under the Taliban and that the country is teetering
on the edge of chaos.
Most Pakistanis I met seemed to feel that India had turned
completely saffron and pro-Hindutva, that Narendra Modi was a possible
future Prime Minister of India, that Indian Muslims were under siege
and were not safe and that by and large Indians hated Pakistanis.
Such perceptions are so far from the truth as to be laughable.
Yet, the very fact that there are many people who believe this,
should make those of us in the media who do not want to exacerbate
tensions and would like to have a peaceful South Asia, pause and
think why these impressions persist.
One way to initiate
change is if the media decided, on both sides of the border, to
report on issues that are common to both countries. Issues such
as poverty, environmental degradation, the urban crisis, water shortages,
drought, the status of women, societal divisions etc. Instead of
just comment, our newspapers should carry reports on these issues.
Thus, there is absolutely no reason why Indian newspapers have not
reported the story about the Tasman Spirit and the devastation that
the oil spill has caused to the environment around Karachi, to the
livelihood of the fisherfolk, to the economy of the city. People
in Mumbai, for instance, would empathise and understand the nature
of this crisis as they too live in a port city. Why should the politics
of Kashmir prevent the media from reporting on such issues?
Similarly, given the controversy raging around the Kalabagh dam,
surely readers in Pakistan would be interested to read about similar
struggles against large dams in India, like the Sardar Sarovar Project
on the Narmada River.
Is it unrealistic to expect such a change in the manner the media
on both sides of the border functions? Perhaps. But some people
would say, so is expecting peace between India and Pakistan in our
lifetime. I prefer to believe that even the impossible is possible.
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