The Rediff Special / Chitra Subramaniam
The Battle for Kashmir
In her latest book, India Is For Sale journalist Chitra Subramaniam
recounts how politicians, bureaucrats and other assorted Indians sell the country down the drain even as they claim to protect our economic and political interests. In this extract from the undoubtedly hilarious but savage book, the award-winning journalist, better known for her work on the Bofors scandal, reveals how Kashmir was 'saved' in Geneva.
Eat, eat, can't think on an empty stomach. I'm not a communist,"
declared the 'Loin' -- Lion is 'loin' to most
people who went to Government College, Lahore, before and after
Partition. Since they are among the main actors in the Kashmir
drama, the term 'loin' has stuck -- of Kashmir turning
to Mrs Ainowitall, sitting next to him. "This chicken is
delicious -- your hands are magical," the Loin purred, licking
his fingers.
"I know all about Pakistan, I know, I know," Mrs Ainowitall
intoned, gently tapping the Loin's arms. "No Holocaust and
no Bosnia can come anywhere near what my parents saw," she
said, serving the Loin a leg of chicken.
The Loin (to India, but Faroukh Mashallah to his parents) nodded,
but he was far from reassured. The Kashmir problem was too big,
the world too small -- he felt trapped. Peace and brotherhood,
yes, but not land, he asserted. Kashmir was his kismat, his
jagir, his profession, his script and his vote bank --
daddy had given it to him.
India had subsidised the rest, including
stuffing ballot boxes during successive elections to declare,
like in Bosnia, that a 112 per cent voter turnout wanted the Loin
and his party National Confusion to run the state.
New Delhi and
the Loin used each other: New Delhi to say that a Muslim leader
in a predominantly Muslim state in a predominantly Hindu India
bore testimony to India's secular credentials and the Loin to
say he was India's only hope in Kashmir.
Both had a vested interest in each other. Had they wanted, both
could have served as a bridge between the war-torn state and the
rest of India. The two had ensured that no other leader emerged
to challenge that premise. In any case, the Loin and India were
trapped, like two scorpions in a bottle each waiting to sting
if the other wanted out.
In fact, during the Loin's last reign in the late eighties infiltration
from Pakistan was at its height. The Loin didn't have time to
note that Pakistan had slipped in arms and men by the thousands
across its porous border with India. "They are very clever
-- the 'boys' (his term for cross-border transfer of terrorists)
come during the golf season when I am away in Switzerland and
London," he complained.
But that did not give Badnasib Bhutta, screaming from the other
side of the fence, any right over Kashmir. "Over my dead
body -- she will come into Kashmir over my dead body, United Nations
or no United Nations," the Loin thundered.
Earlier that morning the Loin had said just that. In front of
185 nations gathered at the UN Human Rights Commission in Geneva,
he had told Bhutta where she got off. "You, of all people,
have no right to lecture to us about human rights. We know you.
I knew your father. I have even had dinner at your place. Your
mother is a good cook. Never could I have imagined that you, a
little girl whom I knew in pigtails, braces and spectacles, would
grow up to be so vicious and dishonest. Who are you? Know your
station in life. When your people hanged your father, you collectively
hanged democracy. Your boys have raped our women. Your boys have
raped our boys," he frothed in the mouth pointing to Bhutta
sitting 38 places to his left.
"You are comparing Indians
to the Nazis and Kashmir to the Holocaust -- this shows you are
nothing more than a buck-toothed schoolgirl." The Loin had
struck.
Illustrations: Dominic Xavier
Excerpted from India Is For Sale, by Chitra Subramaniam, UBS, 1997, Rs 250, with the publisher's permission. Readers who wish to buy a copy of the book may direct their inquiries to Mr H S Sethi, UBS, Apeejay Chambers, Wallace Street, Fort, Bombay 400 001.
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