|
| BEYOND BELIEF: Pervez Hoodbhoy (right); Kashmiri women pray
at the Hazratbal shrine in Srinagar |
If a clich? could get worn out through overuse, this
one would be in tatters. It?s invoked to salvage a sundering marriage, tackle
sibling rivalry or calm down quarrelling neighbours. But when Pakistani nuclear
physicist and now film director Pervez Hoodbhoy says the Kashmir problem will
be solved only when people on both sides of the border ?learn to live together,?
the much abused phrase takes on a fresh hue. It does so, for it comes from a man
who believes that none of the proposed ?solutions? to the conflict over Kashmir
will work. Instead, he alludes ? naively, some might say ? to a resolution emerging
spontaneously as religion takes a back seat and as a culture of science and secular
humanism seeps into both societies.
Hoodbhoy, who teaches physics to postgraduate students
at the Quaid-e-Azam University in Islamabad, was in New Delhi last week for special
screenings of Crossing the Line: Kashmir, Pakistan and India ? a film he
made jointly with Zia Mian, a physicist at Princeton University. Critics say it
is a brutally frank look at facts and perspectives from both sides of the Line
of Control.
What?s a nuclear physicist doing talking about Kashmir?
But then Hoodbhoy never seems to run out of hats to wear. Armed with bachelors,
masters and doctorate degrees ? all from the Massachusetts Institute of Technology
? Hoodbhoy has been a teacher of physics since the mid-1970s. But he?s also championed
workers? rights, chaired a company that publishes books in Urdu on education,
environment and women?s issues, produced television programmes on science, campaigned
against nuclear weapons and confronted irrationality in science ? he once had
to argue why prayers won?t bring rain to Saudi Arabia.
As a scientist and activist in Pakistan, Hoodbhoy
is admired by fellow scientists in India. ?I?d imagine it would be particularly
difficult in Pakistan to engage in some of these activities. Some of his views
won?t go down well with authorities there,? says Dr R. Rajaraman, emeritus professor
of physics at the Jawaharlal Nehru University in New Delhi. ?But that makes his
work all the more significant,? says Rajaraman who has himself conducted research
on the risks of nuclear weapons in the Indian subcontinent and encountered a certain
degree of hostility from the establishment in India. ?Most of those in academic
institutions in India who oppose nuclear weapons are dismissed as peaceniks,?
says Rajaraman.
The level of dissent from within the scientific community
may also depend on the issues under debate, says Dr P. Balaram, a senior scientist
at the Indian Institute of Science, Bangalore, and editor of Current Science,
a journal published by the Indian Academy of Sciences. He recalls that a few years
ago the move to introduce astrology as a science course in colleges had generated
significant response from the scientific community but many probably felt ?less
comfortable? arguing against nuclear weapons possibly because they felt they might
have been branded anti-national.
As a faculty member at the Quaid-e-Azam University,
Hoodbhoy found himself challenging the establishment during the 1980s when he
noticed some bizarre, indeed hilarious, ideas creeping into the domain of science.
It was the era of Zia-ul-Haq. The erstwhile army general had banned freedom of
expression and had set Pakistan on the road to Islam. Hoodbhoy says the period
also witnessed an Islamisation of science that Pakistan had never seen before.
Scientists began to write and discuss ?scientific
papers? on such topics as the angle of God, the temperature of Hell, or the latent
energy of jinns. One university professor of physics wrote a paper on the speed
at which Heaven was departing from Earth. A nuclear reactor scientist argued that
jinns were made up of methane gas and proposed that jinn energy may be tapped
to meet Pakistan?s energy requirements.
The political climate in Pakistan has changed over
the years ? and the Zia-ul-Haq-inspired brand of science doesn?t get the encouragement
or protection that it used to. But it hasn?t entirely gone away, either, says
Hoodbhoy. In fact, he argues that signs of regression are visible on a global
scale. He cites a US survey two years ago which revealed that 32 per cent Americans
believe in lucky numbers, 40 per cent Americans think astrology is a science,
and 60 per cent believe in extrasensory perception.
He also cites attempts by the previous government
in India to define astrology as a science and the prominence accorded to Vedic
mathematics. ?When society loses faith in science, it weakens the power of critical
reasoning and making the right decisions. It is easy to exploit ignorance in the
absence of a culture of science,? says Hoodbhoy.
These experiences inspired him to write a book, Islam
and Science: Religious Orthodoxy and the Battle for Rationality, in 1991.
He also produced television films: Rastay Ilm Kay, a 13-part series on
the problems of education in Pakistan, Bazm-i-Kainat, a six-part series
on scientific insights into nature, and Asrar-e-Jehan dealing with mysteries
of the universe.
The May 1998 nuclear weapons tests by India and Pakistan
spurred him to produce a 35-minute documentary, Pakistan and India Under the
Nuclear Shadow, that examined the dangers facing a nuclearised South Asia.
?This was a time of orgiastic celebrations on both sides of the border,? says
Hoodbhoy. The film sought to bring home the reality of what nuclear weapons do,
the aggression they engender and the deepening poverty caused by an arms race.
?He?s cleverly used communication of science as a tool in the campaign against
nuclear weapons,? says Gauhar Raza, a scientist at the National Institute of Science
Technology and Development Studies and a filmmaker himself.
Hoodbhoy?s efforts at communicating science to the
masses got him the UNESCO?s Kalinga Prize in 2003 for science communication. As
a part of the prize-related activities, he?s expected to tour and deliver lectures
in several cities in India next January. The reception to Nuclear Shadow
within Pakistan and elsewhere encouraged him to take on what would be a thornier
issue ? Kashmir.
?It?s thornier because almost everyone can be made
to agree that nuclear weapons are bad. With Kashmir, every side has a genuine
story to tell with misery and suffering all around. But each side feels that only
the suffering and sorrow of their own. As a Pakistani, I felt that our people
have a right to know facts beyond what our government chooses to tell us,? says
Hoodbhoy.
Crossing the Line is an attempt ?to set aside
prejudices and preconceptions and let facts speak for themselves?. He argues that
all conventional proposals to solve the Kashmir issue are problematic. Were India
to get all of Kashmir, he says, Kashmir would be turned into a ?giant prison,?
held by force of arms and where strife would continue. He says Pakistan?s getting
all of Kashmir won?t solve the problem either and cites East Pakistan as ?proof
that Islam alone can?t bind people.? Independence to just the Muslim-dominated
valley would lead to a nation devoid of resources.
Hoodbhoy argues there is unlikely to be any solution
?as long as we define ourselves as Hindus and Muslims?. And that?s how, he says,
science or rationality can help. Science can emphasise the oneness of humans across
different cultures ? the stronger the culture of science, the greater the chance
that communities can reach across artificial boundaries. ?Science is the one thing
we can all agree on. We can disagree on Iraq or Palestine, but we can?t disagree
that two plus two makes four. The human mind is built for rationality,? he says.
Truths that tumble out of the scientific quest might
of course be simply ignored or undermined. But Hoodbhoy says, the history, heritage,
language and culture shared by India and Pakistan should help both sides ?cherish
differences?. Only then, as one Pakistani analyst says in the film, would Kashmir
become a ?bridge between India and Pakistan rather than a bone of contention?.
|