Berkley Center

Upon my arrival at my university in Jaipur, India for orientation, I was welcomed with a strand of marigolds and small red dot on my forehead with sandalwood paste, known as a tilak, which represents the mind’s eye and is a sign of auspiciousness in the Hindu faith. Our first day of class was initiated with a prayer to Saraswati, the Hindu goddess of knowledge, arts, and music.

In my home-stay family, I’ve been taught to perform puja, ritual prayer, in the incense-filled puja room before the altar adorned with various colorful depictions of Brahma, Shiva, and Vishnu—the holy trinity of the Hindu deities. I have even gotten in the habit of touching the figure of the elephant-headed god Ganesha, which is placed over my doorway, in order to remove any obstacles that may come before me each day. From weekly visits to India’s scores of temples, to deity figures wobbling on rickshaw dashboards in place of hula dancers, the Hindu religion pervades numerous aspects of my daily life in India.

While I would never make the mistake of labeling India a Hindu nation, disregarding the many other religious communities found in India and promulgating the discriminatory ideology of the growing Hindu fundamentalist movement in India, the majority status of Hindus in India is repeatedly made apparent to me. But, as I am frequently reminded in my current coursework, India is far more complex than it may seem.

For example, it is difficult to understand the India of today without addressing post-1947 India and partition. The impacts of the division of British India based on religious demographics and the arbitrarily drawn borders that created Pakistan can still be felt in India over six decades later.

During a class excursion to Jodhpur, I witnessed these repercussions first hand. Since partition and, particularly, the Indo-Pakistan War in 1965, Pakistani-Hindus have been fleeing their country and seeking refugee in Indian cities close to the border, such as Jodhpur, in the state of Rajasthan. Hindus only constitute about 2 percent of the Pakistani population, with Muslims making up the majority. The growth of fundamentalist Islamic organizations and the agitation among the Pakistani masses as a result of communal violence between Hindus and Muslims in India has contributed to the discrimination and insecurity of Hindus in Pakistan and motivates them to relocate to India where they are no longer a religious minority.

In Jodphur, my fellow classmates and I visited a Pakistani refugee settlement about thirty minutes outside the city. With the help of an interpreter, I was able to interview a group of men from the settlement. I asked them about their lives in Pakistan. They recounted stories of violent mobs storming through their towns in search of known Hindu families. They also cited the 1992 destruction of Babri Mosque in India by rioters supporting the Hindutva (Hindu right-wing) movement as a catalyst for the discrimination they faced in Pakistan. Thousands of Muslims were killed in the Babri Mosque incident and, soon after, violence broke out in parts of Pakistan spitefully targeting Hindus.

The people I interviewed told me of witnessing their family members and friends being raped and tortured in the street due to their Hindu religious identity. As opposed to living in fear without the protection of the Muslim dominated Pakistani government, the Pakistani Hindus I talked with had fled to India seeking a better life and security in India. Unfortunately, being part of the majority religious community in India did not completely rectify all their problems.

The refugee settlement was located in the arid, desert terrain where many sandstone mines can be found. Most of the men that I spoke with worked in these mines. The tedious manual labor of hauling and sanding large slabs of stone is dangerous work that can cause many adverse health affects. As a result, there are high rates of numerous eye diseases, blindness, and lung problems among these communities.

Similarly to the negative sentiment of some Americans towards the influx of Latin Americans seeking a better life and employment in our country, Pakistani workers face discrimination in the workplace based on their national identity. They are often accused of taking away the few available jobs from Indians. The Pakistani children who are fortunate enough to attend government schools are ostracized in the classroom and referred to as Pakistani or derogatory names. Children born to Pakistani refugees in India are still considered Pakistani citizens and thus, receive none of the privileges and rights that an Indian citizen would, despite the fact that they have never visited nor lived in Pakistan.

Moreover, these refugees are confined to their city of employment, be it Jodhpur or other cities in the state of Rajasthan or Gujarat, due to their temporary visa and pending citizenship process. Obtaining citizenship is a slow process due to the fact that Pakistani immigrants are viewed as potential threats to national security. On top of this, factor in India’s notoriously convoluted bureaucracy, and it is not surprising that the process for acquiring citizenship for Pakistani Hindus takes a minimum of seven years. While the persecution of these Pakistanis based on their religious identity is no longer an issue in a Hindu majority country, their relocation to India has produced additional hardships.

During my interactions with the refugees, I found myself growing increasingly frustrated with the Indian government and its inability to meet the needs of its people. I understand that the number of communities and identity groups in the vast country of India seeking acknowledgement and assistance from the government is outstanding. Yet, the plight of these Pakistanis is in many ways directly related to the nation of India since partition until the present: the decision to carve out a Muslim state from India in 1947, the growing influence of Hindu fundamentalist parties, the lack of effective government intervention and peacekeeping efforts following incidents of communal violence.

I felt that the very least the Indian government could do for an identity group now was to ensure that they finally had a secure home after partition failed to provide that. The experience in the Pakistani refugee settlement overwhelmed me with questions and concerns about democracy, identity, justice, and religious tolerance. I requested that my interpreter ask the refugees if they had any questions for me. In my frustration with the lack of justice, I was at a loss for things to say. Their first question was difficult, direct, and extremely relevant as a student of sustainable development and social change. They asked, “Why are you here? What are you going to do for us?” After a moment of reflection, I explained that I probably would not be able to do anything, at least not anything immediate or tangible. I explained that I am a student in India, and my main goal is to listen and learn from others’ experiences.

By engaging with them, I will be able to use my voice to share their story and use the knowledge gained from this interaction to inform my understanding of social justice and my future actions. I am not sure that my message completely translated, but I gained a lot from stepping back and critically reflecting on my identity and my role here in the giant, nuanced country that is in India.