Book review: Partition: 
      only one-quarter human —by 
      Khaled Ahmed
      
       Humanity amidst 
      Insanity: Hope during and after the Indo-Pak Partition
Humanity amidst 
      Insanity: Hope during and after the Indo-Pak Partition
      
      By Tridivesh Singh Maini, Tahir Malik & Ali Farooq Malik
      
      UBSPD, New Delhi, 2009
      
      Pp186; Price Rs295 Indian
      
      This very thoughtful and much- needed book says Partition was 75 percent 
      inhuman and depraved, but there was 25 percent of it which was human and 
      which has not been memorialised because of the dominant hostile narratives 
      that came after 1947.
      
      The memory of Partition has concretised the communal fracture of India and 
      made it permanent in the shape of India and Pakistan. Even the ‘neutral’ 
      accounts compiled after the more intense periods of nationalism have been 
      ‘partitioned’, the Indian side putting on record the good deeds done by 
      non-Muslims, and the Pakistani side recording the acts of grace of the 
      Muslims.
      
      This book could be the first of its kind. It is ‘unpartitioned’ in its 
      account of the residual good among two savage communities and puts its 
      hope in the 25 percent of the population of India and Pakistan to save the 
      subcontinent from descending into a Hobbesian end of its 1.4 billion 
      people. 
      
      Think of it, this can be done very easily too today, with the help of the 
      nuclear weapons that Partition has caused to appear like malignant growths 
      on the map of the region. The book contains interviews with non-Muslims 
      who fled to India in 1947 and 11 interviews with refugee families in 
      Pakistan. One doesn’t need to emphasise that they are moving in the 
      extreme.
      
      Around 13 million changed home in 1947 and it took them two months to 
      complete the process. Hundreds of thousands got killed, women were raped 
      and children lost. The wound of it went deep, bequeathing to South Asia 
      one of the world’s most lethal sets of nationalisms that braked 
      development and prosperity and unleashed poverty-provoking wars. If there 
      was holocaust in the West this was one in which ‘no one community could be 
      held responsible’. Politely, it means both were abysmal. If that is what 
      the book says, which it does, then we are face to face with an evil that 
      was more pervasive and therefore more sinister. That means we were 80 
      percent all individual Hitlers.
      
      Ashis Nandy thinks that the 25 percent Muslims and non-Muslims not 
      subscribing to the hatred of their community are the saving grace which 
      will finally rescue the Subcontinent from its historical death-wish 
      succubi. He makes a case for abstention of uniformity of thinking that 
      nationalism dictates because the 25 percent at Partition who did not 
      conform are today worth remembering. 
      
      One hopes that those in India and Pakistan who did not conform after the 
      Mumbai attacks in November 2008 will also be remembered some day when 
      madness has finally left us. But people like Ashish Nandy have always been 
      there though few in number: Khushwant Singh, Balraj Sahni, Kartar Singh 
      Duggal and Saadat Hasan Manto.
      
      The book mentions only Manto as the Pakistani ‘deviant’. That is 
      understandable for two reasons: first that a community that dominates 
      numerically is bound to have more ‘original’ people; second, anxiety 
      levels in a smaller revisionist state are so high that deviationist 
      thinking is cruelly suppressed as opposed to the big status quo power 
      where ‘comfort’ levels prevalent in society tolerate deviationist and 
      innovative thinking. 
      
      One can name six Indian historians at the same level of deviationism from 
      the nationalist prescription as Pakistan’s Ayesha Jalal simply because of 
      this difference. But then people like Satish Agarwal, Papiya Ghosh, 
      Urvashi Butalia, and Ritu Menon, together with Ayesha Jalal, are no longer 
      simply Indians and Pakistanis; they belong in the category that this book 
      wants to idealise.
      
      Should we forget Partition as an unpleasant experience? The book says no, 
      but in a way Partition will be consigned to oblivion once, somewhere 
      during the future generations, India and Pakistan become normal towards 
      each other. One reason one shouldn’t go along with the case for retaining 
      the memory is Pakistan’s upcoming Bab-e-Pakistan monument that will 
      memorialise the sufferings of the Muslim refugees without any reference to 
      the suffering of the non-Muslim refugees that went out of Pakistan. 
      Unless, of course, India and Pakistan enter a treaty banning one-sided 
      monuments and pledge to ‘bilateralise’ the suffering of Partition and 
      eulogise only the 25 percent that didn’t kill.
      
      The authors have many ‘intermediaries’ of their pacific cause and they 
      include Pakistan’s great lawyer Aitzaz Ahsan who in his book The 
      Indus Saga told India that 
      it should permit the presence of ‘distinctness’, and told Pakistan not to 
      ignore the ‘commonalities’ that existed between the two countries. 
      
      The book focuses on the two Punjabs where ethnic and linguist 
      commonalities set up bonds that can be ignored but not denied. It is 
      termed ‘Punjabi ethos’, reaffirmed by physical contiguity and easy 
      official contacts across the Wahga border. The book enlists the contacts 
      made recently by the two Punjabi chief ministers Chaudhry Pervaiz Elahi 
      and Amarinder Singh to highlight the jati networks that have not died in 
      Pakistan despite state efforts.
      
      For instance, the Warraich tribe has flourished in Pakistan just as it has 
      in India among the Jats. In Pakistan Warraich is a familiar suffix to 
      Muslim names even though some leaders have taken it off to facilitate 
      their identification with all the population instead of just one tribe. 
      For instance, not many people in Pakistan know that Aitzaz Ahsan and the 
      family of Chaudhry Shujaat Hussain are Warraich although it is known that 
      they both are Jats from Gujrat. But the stature of these Jat-Warraich 
      leaders in Pakistan is uncontested, the Chaudhrys at the political level 
      and Aitzaz Ahsan at political and intellectual levels. One can’t disagree 
      with the book that the Sikh state of Punjab can be the positive agent in 
      transforming and humanising the Partition experience.
      
      The book recommends a ‘memorial of the 25 percent’ in the no-man’s land at 
      Wahga, but one must warn that the monument of Bab-e-Pakistan, coming up in 
      Lahore, will easily dwarf it with the malignance of its size and 
      dimensions. One may also in conclusion apologetically remind the authors 
      that Punjabis of Pakistan often do themselves no credit by monopolising 
      the negative aspects of Pakistani nationalism and are responsible, because 
      of their two-thirds majority in population, to arm-twist the rest of 
      Pakistan into perpetuating conflict with India. *