Reading The Rebel Princess, a welcome sequel to The Begums of Bhopal, which etched the memoirs of Abida Sultaan, was like flicking through a box of postcards from another world. This is a book about a most unusual person who was referred to by rich and poor alike as Bia.
Not only did she have the unique distinction of being the only heir of a major Indian state to have migrated from India to Pakistan at the time of Partition, she also enjoyed the reputation of being a great administrator, flier, hunter and sportswoman, who took to politics like a duck takes to water.
The eldest daughter of the last ruler of the princely state of Bhopal, Nawab Hamidullah Khan, she lived most of her life in the slipstream of political experience. She was born in 1913, a year before the Great War, which most people now see as a futile massacre, fought over trivial issues by incompetent generals who merrily sacrificed working class soldiers in their millions for a few yards of blood-soaked, worthless ground.
Freezing a touching range of characters, moments and events, the book spans the era of princely states, the independence movement and the emergence of Pakistan. Many of the names of people and places, in what was arguably the most tolerant native state in India, where Muslims and Hindus lived in perfect harmony, is thoroughly familiar to me. After all, I spent my youth in this city of palaces and lakes, when I was not attending boarding school in Dehra Dun or Panchgani.
The Rebel Princess is an interesting and well written memoir. But I can't help getting the feeling that too much of this book is set in the middle distance. As I ploughed through the bewildering variety of names and places, in a vast panoply of successive generations of nobility, and their hangers-on, I longed for some personal insight or private revelation of the kind of people who would never make it to a Who's Who of Bhopal. People like the Brits and the Anglo-Indians, who brought a little northern sunshine into the glowering storm clouds of native traditionalism.
Winter holidays were spent in Bhopal where my father was employed in the Prince of Wales Hospital. We lived in a modest two-storey house which was submerged in a tide of green which lapped up to the window boxes. At the northern end was a massive garden where the mali planted roses and hibiscus and gardenias, and at the back in a fenced compound, we had our own private zoo where a cheetah co-existed with a deer and a chimpanzee.
We didn't have television or VCRs in those days. Entertainment was provided by the gramophone or an old Tesla, which passed as a radio. There was a cinema called the Bhopal Talkies which showed English films on Saturday nights to packed houses. And we waited the whole week to a get a glimpse of Tyrone Power steering the Black Swan away from the pirates, so he could rescue Maureen O'Hara from the clutches of that arch villain George Saunders.
The balcony of the cinema was divided into three compartments. The hoi polloi sat in the centre box. The enclosure on the right was reserved for purdah ladies. And on the left was the royal box where Shehryar M. Khan, grandson of the Nawab of Bhopal, entertained his friends. Saturdays, unfortunately, came around only once a week. So we spent our winter afternoons and evenings with our parents, yachting on the lake or going for long drives through the sleepy town.
We would invariably pass the boat house whose petromax lamp lit up the place with a wan, disdainful efficiency, the haunted mansion near Minto Hall whose ghosts had grown genial, the red-brick walls of hulking old houses whose wall tops were plastered with bits of broken glass to discourage nocturnal thieves, the emaciated cur who barked whenever he heard the ring of the tonga horn or saw the bullock cart outside the post office with its shingle-tortured mansard.
Once when we got home and cruised down the long drive, the car moved very sluggishly, and my father suspected we had a puncture. It turned out that a baby python had managed to entangle itself in the right front wheel. Bhopal was infested with snakes. There were so many reptiles in our garden - cobras, vipers, krites and snakes the colour of wet grass.
Our servants had orders to kill anything that looked like a rope and moved. 1946 registered a record: 64 killed and one injured. A python which had taken a beating escaped over the garden wall into our neighbour's compound. Our two Irish settlers weren't much help. They attacked the only animal that is the snake's greatest enemy - the wily mongoose. In 1946 four of these animals lay dead under the sprawling mango tree that had produced many a delightful harvest.
How well I remember those picnics at One-Tree Hill which overlooked Burra Talab. We used to sit on brightly woven mats munching cucumber sandwiches and chocolate cake and watch the lake slice a big red sun under a cloudless sky, while above us the soft green applause of leaves acknowledged our laughter. Somebody invariably brought along a gramophone and a clutch of Irish tenors would serenade the gentle lake which spread her white lace on the shore.
Tigers also paid us nocturnal visits. One attacked our buffalo and disappeared with her calf. How this carnivore could grab such a large animal in its jaws, leap over an eight foot boundary wall and escape undetected, never ceased to amaze us.
Conversation at the dining table was restricted to harmless small talk which touched on a cycling tour to Bhadbadda - a waterfall which was normally active during the monsoon season, or a visit to Bhesakheri - a village sixteen miles from Bhopal, close to the RAF camp at Bairagarh, where Italian prisoners of war languished in relative comfort. When guests were invited to dinner, the children ate separately. I often eavesdropped and noticed that conversations were surprisingly serious and frequently centred on whether or not Subhash Chandra Bose's Indian National Army was having any success.
On one occasion, my father played host to Dr Muhammad Iqbal, the poet-philosopher of the East, and the British I.C.S. officer, Sir Colin Garbett, author of 'Friend of Friend' I still have an autographed copy of his memoirs, in which he described his illustrious career as an Indian civil servant in the land of the five rivers.
There was supposed to be a war on in Europe and in the Far East. But the people of Bhopal appeared to be relatively untouched. I don't think they really cared who won or lost. The Bhopal state army had more colonels and majors than captains and lieutenants, and the officers appeared to be more interested in the female Italian prisoners of war. That is, when they were not hunting tigers or deer or taking part in those enormous feasts where guests wolfed down buckets of partridge and quail.
I have been told another book which captures some of the sights and sounds of this state, is in the pipeline. There is still a number of Bhopalis in Karachi and Lahore who cherish pleasant memories of this state, which is lost forever in the romantic wilderness of Central India.
e-mail: a-mooraj@cyber.net.pk
The global crime wave
By Behram Tariq
Crime is an extraordinarily serious problem. Even in most developing countries it is now emerging as the first major problem in large cities. In the United States and several European countries, it is already the number one problem of the major urban centres.
There can be no two opinions about the fact that crime is now increasing worldwide. There is also every reason to believe that the present trend will continue through the 21st century. Crime rates have always been high in modern societies such as the western countries, but a new phenomenon has recently emerged on the world scene--rapidly escalating incidence of crime in the developing countries that previously reported few such happenings.
In fact, the street crime such as murder, rape, robbery, dacoity and car lifting is clearly on the rise, particularly in Asian, African and Latin American countries, some ex-Soviet bloc countries such as Hungary and in western Europe such as Scandinavian countries and the United Kingdom.
Although statistics on white-collar crime are harder to find, there is every indication that this, too, is now rapidly increasing world-wide and can be expected to spiral upward in the present century.
The question arises: what is causing this crime explosion? And what steps can be taken to combat it? It is now universally acknowledged that crime is a lot like cancer. It is serious, potentially deadly, comes in many varieties, is difficult to diagnose, hard to treat, and almost impossible to eradicate. In fact, no one in the world can claim to be an expert on crime prevention, as no one really knows how to prevent it.
We all have some ideas on the subject and these ideas vary between suggestions that we should all be kind to criminals and other suggestions that capital or corporal punishment will be effective. The man in the street is more likely to support either of these extreme suggestions for crime prevention than those of us who have a more realistic approach to the complexity of the crime problem.
Still there are certain conditions associated with rising wave of crime such as increasing heterogeneity of populations, greater cultural pluralism, higher immigration, realignment of national borders, democratization of governments, greater economic growth, improving communications and computerization, and the lack of accepted social norms. All these conditions are increasingly observable around the world today. International immigration has also hit an all time high and will not peak for several more years.
At present, much of the world is in a state of what French Sociologist Emile Durkheim called anomie, or normlessness. In most societies of the world today, the traditional social order has broken down, and there is a lack of clear cut, well established laws and limitations on behaviour. It is now established that a society must institutionalize the means (such as work, investment, or inheritance) for achieving material well-being or other goals if that society is to avoid the state of anomie and the resultant crime and disorder.
On the other hand, some nations face pervasive anomie because of their lack of restraints on human desires. In such societies, people feel that anyone can become a millionaire. Indeed many people are now experiencing boundless expectations amid increasingly fluid societal standards and regulations. Moreover, cultural diversity and the absence of effective guidelines on how to succeed in the emerging information era intensify this anomie.
To a large extent anomie also results from a breakdown in the "bonding" process, long recognized by criminologists as important to the health and safety of society. The individual who is closely in congruence, with social expectations over a long period of time is unlikely to commit a serious crime, because he or she has developed a "bond" or stake in society.
Believing that society offers the good life and that it can be obtained by reasonable actions, the individual is unlikely to stray far from established rules of conduct. Some cultures socialize citizens to its expectations and rewards through family, religion, school and community. Other societies have unclear or competing goals and lifestyles, and each citizen comes into contradictory rewards and expectations.
Ample freedom of choice combined with little or no directions as to how to make one's choices responsibly is also yet another formula for higher crime rates. Socializing citizens to adopt and obey a common set of laws is quite different from allowing citizens wide freedom of choice with no socialization other than penalties for violating laws against the choices many individuals wish to make.
Some cultures choose proactive ways to control crime while others adopt reactive approaches. In proactive cultures, care is taken to see that all citizens take part or are well represented in building a consensus of support for laws, and all citizens are taught and socialized and re-socialized from birth to obey these laws.
In reactive societies laws are often the product of groups conflict, and since there is often disagreement about the law, little socialization - or contradictory socialization - takes place. Thus, the individual is left confused about what is expected or is even socialized to disobey. Society's only contribution is to punish the violator if captured and convicted, and even this is generally done ineffectively.
The outlook for global crime is disturbing, if not alarming. However, much can be done to improve the prospects for eventually reducing crime rates. Let's begin by asking, what is the formula for changing a high-crime culture-heterogeneous, poorly disciplined, and culturally pluralistic with helter-skelter parenting and child-care, large disparities in wealth, choice without direction, punishment without socialization - into a low-crime culture?
First of all, we need to move from a "war" model to a "peace" model in our approach to crime. In the great majority of countries in the world today, police treat a community as it were enemy territory. All times they drive around it in patrol cars, looking for troublemakers to arrest, friendly contact with the inhabitants is often negligible and citizens respond by regarding the police as an occupying army.
The peace model, exemplified by community policing, fits well with the emerging information era, where success will depend more on cooperation than competition, reconciliation more than retribution. Under the peace model, we will search in this shrinking multicultural world for a consensus of values on certain big issues, such as murder and theft, and on fair and effective ways of resolving the inevitable conflicts of values in less critical areas without imposing one group's preferences on another group. Legal sanctions need to be reserved for acts that truly endanger the citizenry rather than supply fit one group's lifestyle preferences.
Second, the world's most valuable resource - its children - need to be treated with the respect they deserve. Children need and deserve tender loving care and attention. When they feel wanted and gain attention and approval for socially desirable activities, they are unlikely to become serious law breakers as adolescents or adults.
However, many societies are failing to make sure children get what they need. A useful first step is universal training for parents. A number of low-income cultures have already taken this step to much advantage. Third, proactive rather than reactive methods must be used in reducing crime. A preventive approach would require a change in the traditional structure, role and methods of criminal justice system.
In the traditional system violators are apprehended, taken before a court, and, if convicted, sent to institutions or placed under supervision. Such a system does relatively little to prevent crime since most convicted criminals are eventually turned loose without having been cured of their criminal tendencies.