Garga Chatterjee: A thousand mirrors - Nakbas near home-their homeland, our homeland
Nakba was remembered in many parts of the world. It is the Palestinian day of catastrophe. Palestinians fled their lands in the wake of the 1948 war — never to be able to return.
They hold on to keys, real and symbolic, asserting their right to return to their lands, adding flesh to ‘the struggle of memory against forgetting’. Palestine has become a codeword for injustice to a people who had to flee their homes unwillingly. Most leading university campuses in the West have some form of Palestine solidarity activism.
The present author was denied a competitive position due to his involvement with such initiatives at one point. Palestine spills over to general activism against militarism and occupation. Activist forces, however marginal and removed from the Middle East, support Palestine. The Nakba was a time when millions were frantically trying to prevent knots from untying — ancient knots out of which selfhoods emerged and thrived. Leaving behind the land of ancestors is something subcontinentals know too well.
Once, I was chatting with a friend who is very passionate about Palestinian rights, their denied statehood and most importantly, their right to return to their ancestral homes in Palestine from their diasporic homes, including many in refugee colonies. He is a Bengali baidya, born and raised in the CR Park locality of New Delhi. The discussion turned to ancestral origins and he revealed his family was from Dhaka. I asked him, so what about your right to return? He looked perplexed. I said, I am guessing your East Bengali family, like most others, did not flee Dhaka voluntarily.
Like Palestinians, their ancestral abode, even if razed or occupied, is as sacred to them. The Rs 20,000 per square foot property value of CR Park almost hid the earlier name of this ‘posh’ locality — East Pakistan Displaced Persons (EPDP) Colony. Most ‘EPDP’ colonies are not ‘posh’ — especially those inhabited by people from backward castes. Such colonies, authorised and unauthorised, have been the site of state repression, including large-scale massacres, as in Marichjhhapi in 1979. My friend answered ‘that is different’. Yes, there are differences from Palestine, but what prevents anyone from seeing the similarities?
Palestinians are not the world’s largest or longest displaced people. What determines its pre-eminent position in the ‘global’ mindscape? Imperialism, that unfashionable word, also determines the pecking order of resistances and solidarity causes, inside our heads. If the child of Bengali refugees cared only about Bengal and nothing about Palestine, that would be termed ‘insular’ and ‘inward’ looking. Our sensibilities are skewed indeed.
People who question such fundamental things as the nation-states in the subcontinent do not call for the right to return of Muslims who fled Ambala and Kolkata, or Hindus who fled East Bengal. What do these blind spots reveal? What is so natural about the displacement from Ambala to Multan that it merits no call for justice and the ‘right to return’? When did the national constitution become an excuse to suspend humanity, especially with regards to homestead connections that predate all sub-continental constitutions?
It is harder to confront one’s immediate surround. We know them — the university rebel who is a docile son at home, the fire-eating caste-hating savarna who predictably marries a savarna, etc. Distant ‘cause’-mongering helps preserve the semblance of an ethical pedestalled self, and hides disturbing mismatches between rhetoric and action.
Why not have this and that — a cafeteria choice of causes. Because not all causes stand a crucial test: does it hit home? Is one directly affected by the consequences of one’s actions in the furtherance of a cause? It matters.
The writer is a scientist at the Massachusetts Institute of Technology.
Some relevant thoughts:
'The notion
that statelessness is primarily a Jewish problem was a pretext used by all
governments who tried to settle the problem by ignoring it. None of the
statesmen was aware that Hitler’s solution of the Jewish problem, first to
reduce the German Jews to a non-recognized minority in Germany, then to drive
them as stateless people across the borders, and finally to gather them back
from everywhere in order to ship them to extermination camps, was an eloquent
demonstration to the rest of the world how really to “liquidate” all problems
concerning minorities and stateless. After the war it turned out that the
Jewish question, which was considered the only insoluble one, was indeed solved
– namely, by means of a colonised and then conquered territory – but this
solved neither the problems of the minorities not the stateless. On the
contrary, like virtually all other events of the twentieth century, the
solution of the Jewish question merely produced a new category of refugees, the
Arabs, thereby increasing the number of the stateless by another 700,000 to
800,000 people. And what happened in Palestine
within the smallest territory and in terms of hundreds of thousands was then
repeated in India
on a large scale involving many millions of people. Since the Peace Treaties of
1919 and 1920 the refugees and the stateless have attached themselves like a
curse to all the newly established states on earth which were created in the
image of the nation-state.
For these new states this curse bears the germ
of a deadly sickness. For the nation-state cannot exist once its principle of
equality before the law has broken down. Without this legal equality, which
originally was destined to replace the older laws and orders of the feudal
society, the nation dissolves into an anarchic mass of over- and
under-privileged individuals. The clearer the proof of their inability to treat
stateless people as legal persons and the greater the extension of arbitrary
rule by police decree, the more difficult it is for states to resist the
temptation to deprive all citizens of legal status and rule them with an
omnipotent police' - Hannah Arendt, The origins of totalitarianism, (1948) New York, 2004; p 368
Book review: Superflous people - Rahul Pandita's 'Our Moon has blood clots'