Religious Minorities of Pakistan: The Art of Resistance
Why don’t you convert to Islam?
This intense question, and the subsequent justification (of being the saviour) is continually forced onto religious minorities living in the Islamic Republic of Pakistan, reportedly more on some than others — Sikhs in particular because of their easily visible turbaned appearance. A recent case was an online interview with Sunita Marshall, a well-known Christian-Pakistani actor, who was asked similar questions. The actor, with remarkable composure, politely answered the outlandish and unwarranted questions by the interviewer Nadir Ali; following a huge backlash on social media, Ali apologised for the questions.
I believe that the dynamics of such interactions are deeply rooted into the collective psyche of the numerically dominant Muslim population in Pakistan, shaped by the nation’s history centred around religion. During the freedom struggle against the British Empire, the ‘two-nation’ theory acted as the philosophical backbone for the demand of a separate Muslim homeland (from Hindu-dominated India) aided by religiously charged slogans, resulting eventually in the creation of ‘Pakistan’ — lit., ‘land of the pure’. The homeland acquired after years of struggle was where Muslims could freely practice their religion, enjoy autonomy, and belong. Therefore, throughout Pakistan’s past, present and possibly future there exists an invisible boundary that demarcates notions of belonging and not belonging dictated by religion. In instances like the one mentioned above, the Muslim (interviewer) is very aware of the power dynamic and privilege they enjoy, deliberately ignoring the vulnerability of religious minorities and the impact of such aggression on them.
Everyday acts of suggested or forced proselytising are woven into the routines of religious minorities living in Pakistan. It usually happens in public places such as restaurants, schools, markets: once identified, a minority individual is surrounded by enthusiastic Muslim preachers. During this social spectacle, witnessed by many, the group will force the narrative of Islam’s superiority with all eyes on the minority individual — even a slight disagreement or displeasure can lead to accusations of blasphemy and possible death by lynching. In fact, in several instances during my ethnographic fieldwork in Sindh and Punjab, when I asked my respondents (from various minority groups) what would happen if they were to ask Muslims the same question in a similar tone, since openly and freely preaching one’s religion is a Constitutional right, their response was usually long, blank stares followed by silence and, in one instance, one aptly said with bewilderment:
Brother, I don’t have a Deathwish.
Religious minorities in Pakistan clearly understand and actively try to manage indirect/direct discrimination to evade religion-based violence. Hence, there are patterns of resistance adopted by minorities to mitigate the effect of increasingly Islamised everyday norms which threaten, and continuously challenge, their existence in Pakistan. Conscious of their inferior position in Pakistani society, minorities delicately balance disassociation and integration with mainstream society. One method is to distance themselves from uncomfortable situations by setting up spatial boundaries and by minimising contact with the majority group to ensure their safety and security in an increasing religiously-divided Pakistani society: for example, by avoiding going to restaurants where they are refused service as serving them in the same crockery used by Muslims is ‘incomprehensible’.
On the other hand, they make an extra effort to assimilate by using familiar linguistic cues such as using Islamic greetings in everyday interactions, adopting Islamic phrases, and being overly courteous even when the dominant majority is threatening their existence. For instance, in situations where they are nudged towards converting to Islam by a direct attack on their faith, they try to defuse the situation by either remaining silent, with nervous smiles or by subtly trying to reassure ‘the converter’ by compliant answers like ‘I will definitely think about it; thank you for opening my eyes’ and removing themselves from this setting as quickly as they can.
A more aggressive aspect of violence against minorities is the forced conversion of underage Hindu girls, mainly in Sindh. This happens with the patronage of local waderas (landlords) and pirs (spiritual leaders) who not only encourage their followers to kidnap and convert underage girls but also shield them from law enforcement agencies by offering shelter and political muscle, and intimidating the aggrieved family; also, the court of law cannot be of much help once a converted (now Muslim) girl is forcibly married to a Muslim man. During a recent visit to a Hindu community in interior Sindh, respondents reported a chronic fear of kidnapping and subsequent conversion of their young girls. Since the disastrous floods in the area in November 2022, some referred to themselves as ‘sitting ducks’ because when such incidents (like kidnapping of young girls) occur, state security institutions (including the highest court of the land) can side with the powerful feudal élite rather than help the victim. Consequently, having lost everything in catastrophic floods, living under constant fear of the majority, Hindus limit the mobility of their women (especially young girls) by stopping them from going to school, which in turn results in further marginalisation of the already marginalised.
In theocratic states where national identity is shaped under the umbrella of a dominant religion such covert acts of resistance by the vulnerable get manifested elsewhere, more widely, on the bigger picture as well. The degree of ‘unquestioned obedience’ expected from others is directly proportional to a society’s levels of religious tolerance. In such a scenario, people who think freely and/or challenge the dominant hegemony by questioning the one-sided view of religious correctness are seen as a threat and receive continuous psychological abuse, or worse, mob justice. Examples of such violence include the case of Mashal Khan, and incidents in Sargodha, Gojra, Jaranwala or of a Muslim woman almost lynched by an angry mob for unintentionally wearing a dress with Arabic calligraphy. These national headlines not only drive fear but also ‘manufacture consent’ where the majority-imposed agenda or an act of persecution is perceived as justified/natural.
Throughout Pakistan’s history the political use of religion has not only overshadowed other social institutions but also shaped the sense of self of Pakistani religious minorities both at the macro-level (via amendments to the Constitution) and the micro-level (via everyday interaction), reinforcing the ideology that ‘Pakistan equals Islam’. This Islamic identity, informed by religious discourse, inevitably clashes with any non-Muslim fragment and tries to absorb it into the dominant faith via conversion, in the process diminishing the border between outsider and insider, which is the only way in which the minority can be deemed acceptable. For the majority, this ‘triangle of violence’ is sanctioned in their understanding of Islamic culture and supported by prevailing social attitudes/structures, resulting in persecution of minorities.
Religious minorities are in an everyday struggle of constant negotiation of their public behaviour and performance of their religious identity, confronted with a perpetual fear of retaliation from the Muslim majority. The privileged, educated and well-spoken Christian-Pakistani actor mentioned earlier could answer unwarranted questions without feeling a sense of immediate danger of physical violence; however, countless less privileged, marginalised individuals cannot afford this choice and must master their ‘art of resistance’, faking politeness with ‘enthusiastic complicity’ while being threatened, or by simply remaining silent. For some this has become a second nature as they have been socialised into the ‘art of resistance’ by families and peers; for the rest, fear of mob lynching and an outdated legal system are sufficient deterrents to make them toe the line.
About the Author:
Being Muslim is intricately woven into the Muslim-Pakistani’s sense of self and belonging to ‘the land of the pure’. From increased abductions of young Hindu girls to brazen questions on talk shows, intolerance is visible in various quarters. Zaheer Ali discusses how minorities, especially ordinary citizens, cope with and navigate their everyday lives in this scenario.