Posted:
Contradictory thinking in India and Pakistan
Published : 2014-10-16 20:37
Updated : 2014-10-16 20:37
Malala Yousafzai's Nobel Peace Prize win was a rare, wonderful moment of pride for Pakistan.
It was a feel-good bonus point that she shared the honour with Kailash Satyarthi.
The joint award emphasized the fact that aspirations and struggles on both sides of the border are similar, and that there is more to unite Pakistan and India than divide them.
By splitting the award between a Pakistan and an Indian, the Nobel Committee made it about more than the two exceptional individuals' activism, intimating the potential for the subcontinent to focus on shared challenges rather than rivalries.
The timing could not have been more poignant, with Pakistan and India exchanging fire and fiery rhetoric across the Line of Control.
Recent cross-border incidents have provoked a familiar response on both sides: threats from leaders; domestic exchange of barbs between politicians about being "soft" on the enemy; hysteria and finger-pointing in the media; xenophobia on online channels.
There are conflicting responses to the "arch rival" in India and Pakistan.
In this context, the cross-border swapping of warm and heartfelt congratulations about the prize announcement, with an emphasis on commonality rather than difference, seemed especially jarring.
Even Indian Prime Minister Narendra Modi lauded Yousafzai for her courage shortly after making jibes about teaching Pakistan's forces a befitting lesson.
Why does this cognitive dissonance persist? Why are Pakistanis and Indians willing to embrace each other on some issues, yet assume the personas of enraged nationalists on others?
Discourse around the Nobel Peace Prize is hardly the first demonstration of this cognitive dissonance.
While mortar shelling continued across the LoC, Bang Bang stormed the cinemas in Pakistan and Indians continued to tune in to Pakistani drama serials and swoon over Fawad Khan.
Pakistan's fashion designers, musicians, artists and novelists enjoy overwhelming receptions in India, while Indian cricketers, filmmakers, academics and even politicians are respected in Pakistan. But the moment trouble stirs, everyone's a jingoist.
What produces these contradictory responses to the "arch rival"?
Some of the reasons for animosity on both sides are structural: commercial media industries that have been financially coopted by the state or military and compelled to toe the national security line; domestic political cultures predicated on rivals' shaming, including right-wing attacks against peace-oriented politics; a culture of cronyism that enables business elites to oppose cross-border trade to protect personal interests; a draconian visa regime that keeps Pakistanis and Indians strangers to each other.
The reasons for a continued sense of affinity are harder to pinpoint.
Many Pakistanis have a nostalgic connection with parts of India, either through familial links or because of a shared history.
This nostalgia has little to do with the Indian state's policies, leading to a disconnect that allows Pakistanis to long for the familiar India of their imagining while rejecting perceived Indian aggression.
Moreover, as a nation that has until recently been poorly represented on the global stage, we have long identified with representations of Indians, which are recognizable and easier to consider as part of us' and distinct from the official Indian state.
For Indians, the ability to separate hostile state/military policies from a perception of a Pakistani "public" towards which they are more generously disposed is largely rooted in politics.
Having enjoyed a rich democratic culture, Indians are suspicious of Pakistan's military-dominated history, and do not consider state leadership representative of or answerable to public opinion.
This makes it easier to distinguish between harsh political rhetoric and troops at the border and musicians, cricketers and writers who comprise the social fabric of Pakistan.
For both sides, the sense of affinity is amplified when the two countries are forced to rise beyond a bilateral context to an international one.
When operating at the regional or global level, we quickly cease to be Pakistani and Indian and instead identify as desi (local).
This is the sentiment that emerges when Indian films contend for Oscars and fans support the rival's cricket team against Western challengers, and it came across in responses to the joint Nobel prize.
Such views are partly nave, and it is easy to underestimate the extent to which decades of brainwashing and right-wing politics on both sides have led animosity to become entrenched.
There's also the possibility that the contradictory approach is the result of a generational shift: The rivalry is a less burning issue for Pakistani and Indian youth who have no memories of war, can engage via social media, and have recently faced different challenges within their borders that have had little to do with their neighbor.
Whatever the reason, the cognitive dissonance creates opportunities for Pakistan and India to improve relations. Let these not be squandered.
By Huma Yusuf
Huma Yusuf is a Pakistani columnist, policy analyst and media researcher. Ed.
It was a feel-good bonus point that she shared the honour with Kailash Satyarthi.
The joint award emphasized the fact that aspirations and struggles on both sides of the border are similar, and that there is more to unite Pakistan and India than divide them.
By splitting the award between a Pakistan and an Indian, the Nobel Committee made it about more than the two exceptional individuals' activism, intimating the potential for the subcontinent to focus on shared challenges rather than rivalries.
The timing could not have been more poignant, with Pakistan and India exchanging fire and fiery rhetoric across the Line of Control.
Recent cross-border incidents have provoked a familiar response on both sides: threats from leaders; domestic exchange of barbs between politicians about being "soft" on the enemy; hysteria and finger-pointing in the media; xenophobia on online channels.
There are conflicting responses to the "arch rival" in India and Pakistan.
In this context, the cross-border swapping of warm and heartfelt congratulations about the prize announcement, with an emphasis on commonality rather than difference, seemed especially jarring.
Even Indian Prime Minister Narendra Modi lauded Yousafzai for her courage shortly after making jibes about teaching Pakistan's forces a befitting lesson.
Why does this cognitive dissonance persist? Why are Pakistanis and Indians willing to embrace each other on some issues, yet assume the personas of enraged nationalists on others?
Discourse around the Nobel Peace Prize is hardly the first demonstration of this cognitive dissonance.
While mortar shelling continued across the LoC, Bang Bang stormed the cinemas in Pakistan and Indians continued to tune in to Pakistani drama serials and swoon over Fawad Khan.
Pakistan's fashion designers, musicians, artists and novelists enjoy overwhelming receptions in India, while Indian cricketers, filmmakers, academics and even politicians are respected in Pakistan. But the moment trouble stirs, everyone's a jingoist.
What produces these contradictory responses to the "arch rival"?
Some of the reasons for animosity on both sides are structural: commercial media industries that have been financially coopted by the state or military and compelled to toe the national security line; domestic political cultures predicated on rivals' shaming, including right-wing attacks against peace-oriented politics; a culture of cronyism that enables business elites to oppose cross-border trade to protect personal interests; a draconian visa regime that keeps Pakistanis and Indians strangers to each other.
The reasons for a continued sense of affinity are harder to pinpoint.
Many Pakistanis have a nostalgic connection with parts of India, either through familial links or because of a shared history.
This nostalgia has little to do with the Indian state's policies, leading to a disconnect that allows Pakistanis to long for the familiar India of their imagining while rejecting perceived Indian aggression.
Moreover, as a nation that has until recently been poorly represented on the global stage, we have long identified with representations of Indians, which are recognizable and easier to consider as part of us' and distinct from the official Indian state.
For Indians, the ability to separate hostile state/military policies from a perception of a Pakistani "public" towards which they are more generously disposed is largely rooted in politics.
Having enjoyed a rich democratic culture, Indians are suspicious of Pakistan's military-dominated history, and do not consider state leadership representative of or answerable to public opinion.
This makes it easier to distinguish between harsh political rhetoric and troops at the border and musicians, cricketers and writers who comprise the social fabric of Pakistan.
For both sides, the sense of affinity is amplified when the two countries are forced to rise beyond a bilateral context to an international one.
When operating at the regional or global level, we quickly cease to be Pakistani and Indian and instead identify as desi (local).
This is the sentiment that emerges when Indian films contend for Oscars and fans support the rival's cricket team against Western challengers, and it came across in responses to the joint Nobel prize.
Such views are partly nave, and it is easy to underestimate the extent to which decades of brainwashing and right-wing politics on both sides have led animosity to become entrenched.
There's also the possibility that the contradictory approach is the result of a generational shift: The rivalry is a less burning issue for Pakistani and Indian youth who have no memories of war, can engage via social media, and have recently faced different challenges within their borders that have had little to do with their neighbor.
Whatever the reason, the cognitive dissonance creates opportunities for Pakistan and India to improve relations. Let these not be squandered.
By Huma Yusuf
Huma Yusuf is a Pakistani columnist, policy analyst and media researcher. Ed.
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