Open letter to Fatima Bhutto

OPEN LETTER TO FATIMA BHUTTO

Dear Fatima:

I looked forward to your articles over much of 2007. I read you with interest. My sense of you was of a serious and sincere young woman who had sensitivity and an openness that was engaging.

Unfortunately your very personalized and somewhat vicious attack on Benazir Bhutto a couple of months ago jolted me. You came through then as a bitter, betrayed and judgmental niece and not as a columnist (in my view newspaper columns are not meant to settle personal scores). I have no doubt that you are in pain and that you do feel betrayed but by forcibly drawing me into a personal pain you insulted and trampled on my integrity as a reader.

I don’t want to be a part of the internal pain and betrayals of the Bhutto family. My concern is only at the level of what the Bhutto’s were, are and will be in the public sphere since I am in no way associated with the Bhutto’s and nor in fact with the PPP. I respected Benazir Bhutto for a lot of things (while being only too critical of her failings) but I was particularly appreciative of the fact that she didn’t air her family linen in public even under extreme provocation. Nor I understand did she indulge in personal vendettas or bear too many grudges (in some cases I think she should have!). She was either very ‘politic’ or very magnanimous. Either way I felt better that she was not publicly vicious and that she kept her personal pain and betrayals to herself. I always felt that she dealt with me as a citizen and as a woman and in that gave me respect.

Given that I believe in due process and believe that a person is innocent until proved guilty (and that not be a fixed court as in the judgment against Z.A. Bhutto) I don’t like to indulge in hearsay, suspicion, speculation, innuendo or gossip. I am sorry that you (and others) force this upon me thereby challenging my integrity and my ability to think things through. I am not suggesting that I exonerate murder (not under any circumstances), nor corruption, but I do insist that this not be based on personal ‘truths’ or personal biases etc. Death, any death ‘diminishes’ me (and all of us) and while I feel for your pain and am appalled that Murtaza, a man of such promise should have been so ruthlessly gunned down, I do think that you should refrain from misusing your ‘power’ as a columnist (and as a Bhutto) to make unsubstantiated charges. I too would like to see those who cause death punished. But logic intervenes in my own understanding of Murtaza Bhutto’s murder and I am not able to point a finger at anyone. I will come back to this ‘logic’ later, for now I would like to explore another aspect of that same article that I refer to.

As a feminist I am appalled that you are so deriding of Benazir as a woman. Your article brought to the fore how ingrained sexism is so many of us and how easily even the ‘best’ of us who can obliterate a woman’s identity even when that woman has nurtured a self definition despite all odds and often at great pains to herself. By calling Benazir ‘Mrs. Zardari’ you insulted not just her but all of us women who have tried to carve out our identities within a rampant and sinister patriarchal structure. That you should so flippantly be a part of this makes me reconsider your politics regarding women’s equality and I begin to wonder where your identity will lie should you get married (will you cease to be a Bhutto? I hope not!) I would like to point out though that a majority of women in Pakistan and elsewhere in the world do not become ‘Mrs.’ or ‘Begum’ when they get married. This is common only in urban upper and middle class circles and is a heritage of colonialism. Fatima how many village women have you come across in Larkana who are called ‘Mrs.’? I don’t think the word exists in our languages. Nor should it…Further although I would and do stay away from theological references I understand that in Islam Muslims will be ‘called upon’ by their mothers’ name. This ideological and empirical ambivalence lend themselves to much confusion on the status of the natal family and parentage in terms of identity and recognition but I do think that it supports my position that the term ‘Mrs.’ is an aberration and actually irrelevant.

Benazir was a Bhutto regardless of how you and others may want to play it. She was a Bhutto by birth but also by conviction and by commitment just as I think you will always be if you were to continue to articulate whatever it is that Bhutto stands for (regardless of whom you marry). I am also very disturbed by the present prurient debate on parentage and spousal identification or on who can wear the Bhutto name triggered off by Benazir’s children adding Bhutto to theirs. As a feminist I am delighted by this and only wish that it had been done much earlier as several children have taken on both their parents’ names even in Pakistan. I understand that Benazir was intrigued that Abida Hussain’s son is named Abid Hussain Imam (using both his parents’ names) and thought that this was apt. I think so too and think that all children should be known as the children of both or neither. I am also delighted that by claiming their mother’s name and home and with her husband changing his residence (and his burial place I understand), these Bhutto’s are declaring to the world that their legitimacy at every level derives from their association with a woman. I think that this is fantastic given that women in the main get their identities from their fathers, husbands, sons and brother or even uncles etc. This is striking a blow to one of the foundations of patriarchy and even through Zardari and his and Benazir’s children may not have intended to make such a challenge, this is still an affirmation of matrilineal and matrilocal norms and is… well…feminist. That the people of Pakistan accept this makes me further interested and supportive.

I have found that I have been affirmed by the response of the people (and particularly the members and voters of the PPP) to a woman, a young woman leading them even though Bhutto had male heirs. Much is made of her being a child of the Bhuttos and therefore gaining respectability and a legacy above all others because she was a Bhutto. I do think that it is important however not to forget that she did have brothers and Murtaza Bhutto did come back to challenge her within the party and with the people. I am aware of the argument that she ‘stole’ the legacy of the PPP and even distorted it. Perhaps she did maneuver it but she could not have been successful then or later if the party had not gone along with her or if she had not been able to get out the vote. Like most people in this country I continue to be very pained by Murtaza Bhutto’s murder and do think that this tragedy is a tragedy shared by the nation. I remember when he returned and remembered his promise but I was very disturbed by his returning to ‘claim his inheritance as a male heir’ (I don’t know if he said this but I do remember it being an argument in the public when he returned with some newspapers quoting him to this effect). I am also enraged that a father should separate his daughter from her mother at the age of three (no matter what the reasons). No law, religion or system allows for this. I appreciate that now you may not be interested in your blood mother but who knows what your stand would have been had Murtaza facilitated your getting to know her at an early age. Too many skeletons in all our closets! And I am only sorry that you, by opening up a family drama, have propelled me to open up other wounds.

I marvel though at the sophistication of the people who voted for Benazir especially when there was another PPP (several others in fact) to vote for over the last 15 years or so. I think that this is not because she had a better manifesto (I haven’t seen the manifestos of the other PPP offshoots and hers may even have been more pedantic). As I understand it and as people who voted for her explained to me over the years, they had an affinity with Benazir…she was theirs. She had suffered with them and for them. Those years that she spent fighting for her father’s life and against General Zia Ul Haq, the stories of her solitary confinements; house arrests; her courage in the face of the martial law; her resilience and her commitment at a young age (without emotional and personal support) to a cause larger than herself is writ large in the hearts of people. It is for this same reason that others who were with the PPP are no longer of much relevance except as spoilers. I have always wondered where the companions of Bhutto (the ‘uncles’), and the second line leadership were in those years. Some jumped, others were silent, still others dragged their feet, some went off in a huff, some genuinely disagreed and some turned traitor. The names can be reeled off but I would still like to ask Mumtaz Bhutto, Peerzada, Mubashir, Jatoi etc.were (as also Atizaz Ahsan) what role they played, first with Bhutto’s struggles when he was in jail and then hanged, or later with Benazir’s (I don’t recall them making too much of a noise). How much of a role did they even play in the Movement for the Restoration of Democracy? My memory may be faulty on this score but I don’t recall them putting their lives on the line. I don’t recall them suffering. Fortunately Benazir was supported by others with the same commitment as hers.

I appreciate that Murtaza and Shahnawaz Bhutto and many others were following their own form of resistance but however sincere (and I do believe in the sincerity) that adventurism led to countless deaths, prison sentences, torture, and disappearances not least perhaps the murder of Shahnawaz himself. A friend of mine spent ten years in jail tortured, often in solitary confinement, left without hope, on the grounds that the state suspected him of being a member of Al Zulfikar. He says sometimes he would get news of Bhutto’s sons, their marriages, their chidren, their time in Europe, and he would also get news of Benazir…in solitary or under house arrest. He says she spoke up for those in jail, that she sent messages or otherwise addressed them. They felt less alone with the very fact of her. This friend was released in 1989. He was still only 27 years old but defying logic, rationality, objectivity, intellectualism, he has supported Benazir since. However faded or ‘irrational’ he continued to dream.

This dream is the crux of peoples’ engagement with the Bhutto family. It is in giving voice to this dream that holds people to the PPP; it is this dream that makes for the resentment of the Bhuttos within the power structure and with the establishment (military or civil); it is this dream that makes those who support a Bhutto a threat to the status quo; and it is this dream that makes those who are the status quo insecure. So many people argue that Benazir (and for that matter Bhutto) did very little for those who supported them. Those who had something to lose if the Bhutto’s had challenged the structures of society, say this with comfort and with glee. This is understandable. But the detractors, the middle class, urban progressives, intellectuals, academicians, ‘left’ activists and ‘left’ pretenders who add to this ‘they didn’t do anything’ refrain are to my mind either unable to understand liberal bourgeois democracy or are unable to see reform for what is it…a slow, laborious, tedious, and frustrating process that I myself am impatient with. Yet I don’t expect mainstream politicians to bring revolutions. I only expect the more progressive among them not to reverse whatever progress might have been made and to push the parameters. The Bhuttos did what I thought they could do. In any case I am not nor have ever been a member of the PPP and as a socialist and feminist always criticized and challenged the Bhutto’s from the left. I have not allowed this criticism however to negate what they did do and in some cases this would be substantial even if some of it cannot be quantified. But at the very least it was that they articulated a humanity that touched their supporters. This I salute, legacy or not. I am reminded of one of the most poignant songs that have come out of the women’s movement called Bread and Roses “…yes it is for bread we fight for but we fight for roses too…” It was the roses Fatima, the roses… perhaps it still is…(as also the bread).

In the 60 years of Pakistan a Bhutto has only been in power for about 10 and yet this name looms large both for supporters and detractors. I wonder at this especially for the latter. Why does the focus always stay on the Bhuttos (as opposed to all other politicians and even the military governments?) Why are Benazir’s all too brief terms in office still under the microscope; why are all her wrongs always in the public discourse (urban discourse in the main); why does she bring on such fury…? Further why does the murder of Murtaza figure more than the suspicion of murder of Shahnawaz? Why is there no ‘objective’ thinking through of Benazir’s involvement (or lack of) in the murder of her brother Murtaza? I have been troubled by this last since 1996 not because I think that she could not have done it (after all murders, betrayals, ambitions, kidnappings, taking children away from a parent usually a mother, etc. are fairly common in ‘royal’, feudal and patriarchal families) but I am perplexed about the whole process of such a judgment. I am for instance baffled by the fact that Leghari, Sharif and Musharaf didn’t conduct inquiries that would have proved this. Surely then they could have hanged her and/or Asif? Or at the very least could have preventing them from ever returning to Pakistan. Leghari dismissed Benazir’s government soon after Murtaza’s murder. The interim government was meant to look into her misdeeds as were the governments of Sharif and Musharaf. Why did they not convict her for this crime (or even Asif who spent time in jail for this and other charges). I have always maintained and still do that the murderers could not be exposed…perhaps because they continue to be powerful elements in the establishment.

I wonder too about populism. It can be a very creative force but it can also be dangerous. To me what is important is to understand what it is that touches people to the extent that they think that these families or individuals can determine the course of history. What do the Bhuttos, the Gandhi’s, the Perons, the Kennedys etc. have in common other than youth, tragedy and well…good looks!? What does political stardom mean? Why do people need to create larger than life characters and yet still be accessible enough to mirror the anguish of a people?

While the larger problematic of populism intrigues me it is perhaps in order for me to focus on the Bhuttos and try to understand populism in our own context. I don’t think that the Bhutto ‘legacy’ has only to do with one’s association to a family. We have only too many politicians here who are associated with a particular family and this in itself does not play out as populism. I have tried to understand this both as an activist and an academic and continue to grapple with it. But I accept it as phenomenon and only hope that those who are heirs to this populism can steer this in a manner that is in the best interests of those who place such faith in them.

You and your step mother, Ghinwa Bhutto, argue that the name Bhutto should not determine political success and nor should it give privilege. I agree but then do wonder why Ghinwa Bhutto leads her faction of the PPP as Murtaza’s widow and wonder also why she has continued to head it. Is it not her husband’s name that she exploits and is the Bhutto ‘legacy’ not being used here? And you Fatima, is the media, and political, and social circles not focusing on you only because you are a Bhutto? Surely every young Pakistani professional woman is not being interviewed by the London Times and the Guardian etc.? Or being feted and read here and abroad (not even older women who may have made significant contributions to Pakistan let alone ‘ordinary’ women get this type of celebrity status no matter how much they may deserve it)? Do you not also play the Bhutto card every time you accept or court celebrity status? Do you not already have an edge that you have not worked for and you will not continue to have this edge even if you do decide to just work ‘with the grass roots’ and continue your writing?

Actually I have no problems with this. I only have problems with your saying that you don’t. You are an ‘heir’ to the Bhutto legacy, a legacy shared by all the grandchildren of Nusrat and Zulfiqar Ali Bhutto. These grandchildren would include to my mind the children of Sanam and Shahnawaz Bhutto (every one seems to have forgotten them!). I hope that all of you can reach out to each other in the interests of those who ‘need’ a Bhutto and can take this legacy and this history forward together. All of you even those of you who do not want to get directly involved at the moment, have a role to play if for no other reason than to keep the PPP together as a national multi-ethnic, multi-class trans-gender, trans-religious, liberal, progressive and I hope, secular party that reflects the interests of all the provinces and areas of Pakistan. As the family ‘elder’ your role and responsibility is perhaps more cut out since I think it is for you to reach out to all of them (including Shahnawaz’s daughter Sassi Bhutto). I also think that all the Bhutto grandchildren should have to earn the respect and the love of the people who support them. The Bhutto myth lies to a large extent in that they worked and suffered for those who supported them…enough for them to risk their own lives…and lose. I would hate for the Bhutto ‘legacy’ to now be handed on a platter to Bilawal, to you or to any other grandchild without him or her having earned it. Earning it is a long and potentially dangerous struggle even if you decide to work only at a local level. None of you however are ‘too young’ as is being suggested. Benazir Bhutto was about your age when she took on her monumental task and Bilawal is not much younger than her, Murtaza or Shahnawaz were when circumstances forced the Bhutto mantel onto them.

I wish you a life of commitment, energy and courage…

Sincerely

Nighat Said Khan

This is the article by Fatima Bhutto where she calls her aunt Mrs. Zardari.

And here is the obituary she wrote for her aunt.

BB’s Arranged Marriage

I’m getting a little sick of Western journalists’ constant reference to Benazir Bhutto and Asif Zardari’s marriage as arranged. Today I read a comment that said: “Asif Zardari, Bhutto’s arranged marriage husband…” Relevance? Why is it relevant? Are they so ignorant as to think that an aspiring leader of a very conservative Muslim country would even opt for a “love” marriage? Do they really have such a lack of understanding about Pakistani culture? If so, can we trust their opinion and analysis about this topic?

In Pakistan the vast majority of marriages are arranged. Choosing one’s own spouse is problematic. There are thousands of honour killings every year because of people (mostly women) wanting to marry for love. In fact, non-arranged marriages are so rare, that they’re referred to as “love” marriages. When someone says that two people got married, we automatically assume that their marriage was arranged because if it wasn’t, the couples entire romance would have been revealed to you.

I guess that the fact that arranged marriages are so rare in the west is what gives them that novelty. They are our equivalent of “love” marriages, yet I still think this constant reference to BB and Zardari’s marriage as arranged is getting a little annoying. It would be fine if written in an article about her life, but it’s not ok when it’s used out of context. Arranged marriages often revoke horror and thoughts of oppression in western readers. Just reading the words “arranged marriage” automatically leads to a judgement, often negative, being formed by the reader. And it’s not right to slot and pigeon hole all arranged marriages. There are many different sorts. I highly doubt Benazir Bhutto didn’t consent to her marriage. I also doubt that she didn’t know who she was marrying. I would be surprised if I found out that they hadn’t met before the wedding, as is the case in many, many arranged marriages.

My point is that western journalists need to stop demonizing us- the ones who she belonged to. It is the western journalists who are looking in. In this case, they are the “other”.

A response to stupid questions about Women’s Studies

I have a degree in Women’s Studies. What’s that you say? You aren’t the first person to ask. Every time I bump into a desi person, especially a Pakistani, and tell them what my degree is in, their first reaction is to laugh and stare at me in disbelief. Somehow no one seems to believe that a major devoted to a feminist cause could possibly exist, and if it does, then why on a earth would a Pakistani want to major in “such a thing” since, according to a lot of narrow minded people I have met, it seems to be a major with which I will never be able to get a job. However, I believe that due to the excess amount of Pakistanis majoring in IT and CS, there will be a plethora of these graduates that will be left unemployed and will eventually end up driving cabs.

What I find really funny is people’s comments about my major. Someone once asked me why I’m studying women when I am one. He reasoned that men should take the courses I take in order to understand women. Another person asked me if I believed in human rights (as if women are separate from humans?!), and yet another looked at me and very seriously asked, “Don’t you think the situation in Afghanistan and Iraq is more serious?” People have asked me if I enjoy “academic male bashing”, since according to their narrow perceptive, feminists have nothing better to do in life apart from swear at men all day long. Others just assume that all feminists wish to create a matriarchy in society, not knowing that a hegemony of any sort goes against feminist ideologies and principles.

I think most people’s perceptions of feminists are that we are emotionally distressed women who have nothing better to do than talk about how repressed we are all day long. However, I do believe that the majority of Pakistani males I meet are extreme misogynists, especially in front of strong women. Feminism in its most basic form is nothing but the desire to make the world a better place for women to live in. The misogynists who condemn me for only concentrating on women instead of poverty, racial conflicts and “repressed men” are not willing to step off their pedestals for their own wives, mothers or daughters, and yet they claim they will willing do so for someone from a class lower than theirs and a different race. The feel that they need to control their women, like pet bitches, laying rules for each and every single aspect of their lives, which includes who they should love and touch. All these ludicrous restrictions, such as what a woman can wear, what she can do and cannot do, are meant to be for her “own good”. This sort of attitude has messed up our country to a great extent, and not many people are willing to change. We kill women for any violation of honour, like a fleeting hello with a strange man. We kill women for money, we sell our souls, our pride, we have no values and yet we preach religion.

What’s even worse is the amount of families I have met who claim to be “progressive, liberal and free thinking” when all they are an extreme confusion of the west and the east. They feel that by dressing like westerners and speaking their language they are great examples to the community around them. Yet, they keep their females under lock and key, monitoring their lives (and phone calls), and are more concerned about the daughter’s jahez than anything else. A female Einstein could be born in their midst and they would let her dress like him, but once she hits about 22 they would marry her off and then pressure her to become a baby machine.

However the worst of the lot are the women who have the ability and power to make a change and do not do so. These include the educated women who decided to give up on careers and settle for meaningless socialising after having bagged a rich man. Apparently children can’t be brought up properly unless the mother isn’t doing anything in her life. Ironically, most of these women have an endless stream of nannies who take care of the children, and all the so-called home maker does is look at them once in a while (when she isn’t too busy with the darzi that is). Some refuse to breast feed their babies because it takes up too much of her time and they feel restricted when they have to be with their baby all the time. They probably wouldn’t have had the damn child unless they hadn’t been pressured to, their attitude seems to suggest. Unfortunately most of these women then go on to join the aunty club and start an endless cycle of aunty hood by producing more and more aunties. Yet, the ones I feel deserve the most condemnation are the ones who are the advocates for arranged marriages, who put females on display like prized horses at a grooming show, completely marginalizing women as human beings. Unfortunately these women live in a delusion where they insist that arranged marriages work better than those where two people decide to come together in a union of love out of their own free will. Every time I hear that statement I think to myself that arranged marriages work because they people who entered them didn’t really do it out of choice, and that even if they are miserable, most of the time they continue to live in a bad marriage because of the taboo placed on divorce by our society. Also, families raise girls to be completely obedient, regardless of the situation she is in. It is a well known fact that a Pakistani woman will go to extremes to make her marriage work, otherwise, regardless of the cruel things that happened to her, she will be the one labelled “the bitch”. It’s unfortunate that these women are brought up to believe that her husband comes before her and that his needs are more important than hers. What’s even worse is that this is a plague that has infested the entire country, even the so-called liberal, progressive thinkers.

So next time you encounter a feminist and decide to start making stupid comments about feminism (which you probably don’t know much about), then watch out, we have a lot to say and are not afraid of saying it.

Just another rant…

I had to struggle with the fact that it wasn’t my fault. I had to deal with the anger and the pain and so I repressed it. I let it flow and felt the anger take over all of me. And now I realize that it wasn’t me but you.

You who shaped me, moulded me and tried to get me to conform to what you believe is right. You who suppresses, who loves, who is the mother, the father, the child, the wise elderly, the doctor, the labourer, the rebellious teenager, the educated, the beggar, the corrupt, the honest, the hard worker, the leech, the scrooge and the philanthropist. You who lays down that rules that must be followed which include every aspect of my existence from the amount of clean air I breathe to the person I love (and how). You who controls what restrictions should be imposed upon me “for my own good”: what clothes I should wear, where I should go, who I should associate with, what I can eat, what I can do; what I cannot achieve because there is an endless list of what I must not do. These are the restrictions that you have imposed upon me purely because of my sex.

It is you who allows me to be viewed as an object rather than person. You treat my kind as animals rather than thinking reasoning humans with minds of their own. It is you who makes the streets unsafe for us to walk on. Public places meant for leisure are places where we feel highly insecure. Even in our homes we are not safe. In our homes we suffer all sorts of abuse that ranges from sexual abuse to mental threats. Beatings, burnings, acid faces, incest and other forms of violence. Don’t tell me about your long hard day at work. I have a daughter who has just been molested, a sister who has just been burnt, a friend who has lost her face because acid was thrown on it and I am the victim of constant rape, but since it is by my husband, it is not considered wrong.

Thinking about liberation is not right. Talking about wanting rights that will make our position in society better for us as individuals, rather than role model daughters, wives and mothers is dismissed as ludicrous by you. By you who I keep referring to, I don’t just mean the males among you, I also mean the women who have the ability and the power to make a change but prefer avoiding conflict. By you I mean the educated ones who decided to give up on careers and settle for meaningless socialising after having bagged a rich one. By you I mean those who once felt the blazing desire to change their position, but have now lost all their idealism. By you I mean those who have the resources to help but prefer to turn a blind eye. By you I mean the aunties to raise their daughters to fall into the same disgusting cycle. By you I mean those who advocate arranged marriages where females are put on display like prized horses at a grooming show. By you I mean the ones who will willingly allocate a lot more resources for their sons rather than their daughters. By you I mean the ones who stay silent. By you I mean those who allow horrific acts to occur before your very eyes because it serves your purpose. By you I mean those who don’t encourage those of us devoting our lives to make this world a better place for you and your children… those who scoff at the idea of women’s studies… those who say that there is no need for feminism, but there is a need for human rights. If you can’t place your own women in your position, if you can’t lower your pedestal for you own mother, wife and daughter, how are you going to do so for those who do not belong to the same class and religion as you?

Why Weddings Distress Me

My brother declares with manly arrogance, “I too would have a caesarean” which inevitably causes me to remark: “Well I would hope you wouldn’t try pushing a child out of your penis”. His face swells up since after declaring his preferred method of birth he proceeded to take a large sip of water. The very second I finish my sentence, a jet of water was streaming out of his mouth and he was howling with laughter, tears streaming down his face, my cousins giggling nervously by his side. The whole evening was already bothering me; the atmosphere though relaxed was the same superficial one that I somehow can not get accustomed to even though I’ve lived in it since I was born non-casesareanly. We were watching videos of my cousin’s mehndi and looking at pictures of the wedding, causing me to relive all the irritation I felt only a week ago. I sat there thinking, why is it always the same, the same, the same fucking thing… these five thousand weddings of Lahore glorifying human stupidity. As I saw myself on screen, wearing diamonds and a dress that was horrendously expensive, my fat form swaying in a crowd of conformity, I realised for the umpteenth time that we really were all sheep bleating to our deaf selves. Choreographed dances ripped off from Bollywood movies that frankly look like aerobics, robotic stiffness, faces pinched with concentration from trying to remember every like butt shake, every little jump, vying to get it all right as if it really means something when deep down we all know it doesn’t.

I know the tension and aggravation I felt was present throughout all the ceremonies because I was there, analysing these ostentatious ceremonies with my ever ready feminist gaze. Its my own fault for being there, for getting involved, knowing I will forever chastise myself for being just another part of the flock, just another little speck of dust amidst the madness that we indulge in only to validate our largely meaningless existence. I will admit there were moments when I did enjoy myself, slightly inebriated dancing normally, not robotically. And yet… the irritation that refuses to let my mind rest still lies active under my skin. It has taken on the form of a beast ravaging not only my mind but also my body. I can not sleep again and my right leg and foot hurts now. There’s a bizarre heaviness in my already abundant chest making my massive breasts swell and hurt. I’m always the first to admit that I am truly delusional, but I have to be because I live in a mad bad world and the last family wedding readily confirmed it for me.

Some one once theorized that weddings bring out the worst in me because I know I’ll never have one since no one will marry a feminist. Despite knowing that I would never voluntarily inflict a large chaotic affair on my family and on my own self, I took it to heart. “Think about it Nabs,” he snorted, “your last relationship was disastrous. Didn’t the guy’s family threaten to disown him if he became too seriously involved in the relationship?” Eventually a sane voice from my own head came up with a better and far more believable theory that didn’t rely on past relationships, my commitment phobia or any other factor related to men. Simply put this voice was devoid of emotion when it told me: “Nabiha Meher you hate weddings because they go against much of what you believe in. You hate weddings because of your personal highly idealistic and feminist beliefs. You hate weddings because the of the sheer waste: time, money, energy and emotions. You hate weddings because your brain starts working overtime, first by analysing every little thing that happens, and then by trying to suppress the thoughts it has permanently lodged in your brain. You hate weddings because you see the world differently, from an unusual perspective.” And there’s nothing wrong with that. So I’m writing to heal and hoping that maybe, just maybe, another soul like me might just come across this and truly understand that it comes from a place of pain and aggravation trying to find an outlet and is not the diatribe of a lunatic man hating vagina loving feminist that is bound to be labelled.

My cousin’s jehaiz had to be taken in a truck. Nineteen large boxes of items she will need in her new home and trunks of clothes so that her husband never has to buy her any. According to my sister she has enough unstitched cloth to clothe her grandchildren. She even took items that we, the elite of Paki-land, use every day: large and small chaani (for tea and pakoras of course), wooden garlic and lemon presses, enough plates to throw a feast with, and my favourite item: toilet bowl cleaner. You know the blue thing that cleans as you flush; very useful item keeps the pot hygienic. Yes, indeed, we Paki women do indeed need these items when we get married. After all one surely can’t expect one’s future husband’s house to have the basics like bed sheets, sewing kits, Band-Aids, kettles, plates, toilet bowl cleaner, shampoo, toothpaste, garlic press, and the ever so necessary chaani. I have a sinking feeling that the inheritance that my mother and her sisters were not fully paid was probably used to finance this grand wedding and dowry. My father put the idea into my head when I was venting about the idiosyncrasy of feeling obliged to provide one’s husband with strainers and other ALREADY PRESENT and/or easily available kitchen tools and toilet bowl cleaners. The idea is stuck now. Like a stubborn bubble gum on the heel of my shoe or in my hair. No matter how hard I try to get rid of it, the residue remains to remind me and enrage me. My cousin also didn’t sign a pre-nuptial. If her husband ever throws her out, she can’t really legally get her chaani back.

Theory on transgenderism in Pakistan

Hijras have historically been accepted as an integral part of South Asian culture. They are not eunuchs, but the third sex/third gender as coined by Serena Nanda. We do, however, view them as men who choose to live as women.
What I find interesting about the Shumail and Shazina case is that Shumail is, in effect, a variation of the hijra. Hijras go through a rather elaborate procedure to remove their genitals. They ensure that none of their maleness is left behind, to the extent that bleeding out the “male” blood after removing the penis and testes is mandatory.
Shumail was a woman who identified with the male gender. He can no longer be considered a woman, just as a hijra can no longer be considered a man. So why is so much hullabaloo being generated by this case? I propose the following theory:
The subcontinent is deeply rooted in patriarchy, to the extent that women’s bodies are the sole site of family honour. Male bodies are not at all fundamental to their family honour; a male may do as he pleases with any woman other than his own.

Hijras voluntarily remove themselves from the community of the powerful patriarchs and, in essence, choose to become the oppressed. What Shumail has done is the exact opposite. He has chosen to leave the domain of the oppressed and enter, or intrude on, the domain of the oppressor. This seems almost unfathomable in a culture which controls women’s bodies in order to maintain honour. Honour killings almost always target women and not men. Shumail can now no longer be controlled. Shumail is now a threat to women. Shumail is now an antithesis of the woman he is “supposed” to be. This has not only shattered cultural conceptions on the role of women, it has also created a sense of fear. If Shumail sets a precedent, he will be a threat to the patriarchy. Since my country people love slipper slope arguments, they could argue that he may set a precedent. Perhaps more and more women will want to become male, and if they do, who will be in control?
This is, obviously, just a theory. I cannot understand anything unless I theorize it to infinity. I just wanted to put this forward to see if this makes sense to anyone other than me. I realise it’ll seem absurd to most people, but try to think of it as a theory only.

Rape Me Musharraf

As an unpublished, disillusioned feminist writer, I don’t make money. My writing is considered too controversial and bleak. I’m very black and white I will admit. My short stint in a bank left me depressed and I felt terribly guilty about the capitalist money I was making. I can not seem to compromise my feminist principles with big corporations. I’d rather not make money. I would like to sleep at night. I would love to do research at an NGO but I am too irritated with them at this point. Outside they display boards stating “we are non-hierarchical and feminist” and once inside I am shocked by the deceit. They are hierarchical. They are not very feminist. They are extremely judgemental and unyielding. They do not pay well.
So I’m not making money. And frankly right now I am tired of Lahore with all its superficial hedonistic lifestyle. And I’m also dreading Ramzan because the country will shut down for a whole month. I miss Toronto and I never thought I would say this, but I miss York University—the insanely ugly campus, the pubs, the energy, and especially my Women’s Studies classes. I want out. I want to go back. And I want money.
So rape me Musharraf. Help me out. You state that all we, the women of Pakistan, have to do in order to get a Canadian citizenship and become a millionaire is get raped. I want out. I no longer want my green passport that makes me state my religion and my father’s name instead of my mother’s. I never again want to sign a form stating that I believe Ahmedis to be non-Muslims because I don’t. I don’t like your bullshit “enlightened moderation”. So help me Musharraf. Rape me. Do it publicly. Rape me Musharraf and let’s broadcast it the world over. And then… I will seek refuge in Canada and maybe I will get lots of money. Hell, it might even help save your tarnished image at this point because this rape will finally produce a woman who wants to get raped in order to make money and get a Canadian citizenship. So rape me Musharraf, I want out, I want to get away from you, you useless puppet.