Science in the Muslim world
SPEAKERS at a conference in Karachi have called on the OIC to establish institutes for scientific research. They were reiterating a key recommendation of the OIC’s Commission of Eminent Persons (CEP) which was adopted last month by the summit in Makkah. Among other things, the CEP had proposed the enhancement of budgetary allocations to provide quality education and promote scientific research. These are sound proposals but given our poor record of implementing key decisions, there is scepticism about whether these measures will actually be taken. While no one will question the need to promote education and scientific research in the Muslim world, the lack of political will and integrity might hamper the cause of science and research. This contrasts with the fact that Muslims had led the world in science at a time when Europe was still in the dark ages. Today they are a “scientific desert” to quote the journal Nature.
It is encouraging that the OIC has now recognized the importance of promoting scientific research for the development and progress of its members. The organization does not lack resources. What it lacks is direction. Hence it should channel its funds into education and research where its salvation lies. It is important, however, that scientific research is organized, coordinated and systemized if it is to create an impact. The Muslim world has talent but in most cases it is waiting to be discovered, honed and put to work. How is this to be done? CEP thinks a consortium must do this task. Comprising eminent scientists from the Muslim world, the consortium should identify the areas in which research is needed. Then it could focus on these selected areas rather than going about it by fits and starts. It should explore the academias in the OIC member countries specializing in the particular disciplines that have been selected for funding. Networking between the centres of learning and interaction between the scientists will encourage research and give a boost to the projects that may be showing potential. Thus centres of science, broadly on the pattern of the Third World Academy established by Prof Abdus Salam at Trieste, can be set up at places in the Muslim world, each specializing in a specific field to avoid duplication.
If scientific research is to be meaningful it is also important that the infrastructure for it be created. That calls for two prerequisites. First, a strong literacy and education base must be created in each country. Although many Muslim countries have recently begun to invest in education in a big way and have achieved near universal primary enrolment, there are others like Pakistan whose spending on education is measly and where more than 50 per cent of the children do not go to school. Secondly, society must develop a strong science culture. That can be done by promoting science through a substantial scientific content in the school curricula, by setting up science museums and projects, holding exhibitions and skilfully using the media to create awareness of and interest in science. But most important of all, freedom of speech and a spirit of enquiry must be guaranteed to enable people to question assumptions, beliefs and notions in search of truth. After all, science cannot flourish in a climate of suppression and restriction.
Resumption of rail link
THE agreement between India and Pakistan on a date to reopen the rail link between Sindh and Rajasthan after a gap of 40 years deserves to be welcomed, not least because it will allow thousands of Pakistanis living in the country’s south a cheaper and quicker route to visit relatives across the border. The decision to reopen this railway link comes at a time when some people in both countries have begun to question the pace of normalization. Scheduled to begin service from February 1, the train service will link the Pakistani station of Khokhrapar with Munabao in India making travel to places like Mumbai, Ahmedabad and even Delhi less of an ordeal. However, the full benefit of the train service will not be realized until India reopens its consulate in Karachi. When that happens, those wishing to visit India will no longer have to travel all the way to Islamabad to obtain a visa — a costly and often time-consuming process with no guarantee of success. A hitch, however, has surfaced in this with Pakistan not being able to get the location of its choosing in Mumbai, facing opposition, on security grounds from the tenants of the building where it wants to open its consulate.
Since the understanding between the two countries is that the Karachi and Mumbai consulates are to be opened simultaneously — something that was to happen at the beginning of this month — a speedy solution needs to be found for Pakistan’s search for consulate premises in Mumbai. Perhaps, the government of India can intervene in the matter and either give security guarantees to the tenants or suggest an alternative location. In addition to the train link, the two countries have also discussed starting a ferry service between Karachi and Mumbai. Increasing travel links between the two countries — two new bus services are also in the offing — are good for both sides because there is nothing like direct contact between the people to cut through the barrier propaganda and falsehood characterizing the outlook and attitude in the two countries.
Passing of Roshan Khan
WHEN on March 12, 1951, little known Hashim Khan won the British professional squash title, nobody thought that the modest Pathan was laying the foundations of a dynasty which would rule the sport for two generations and more. Included in the clan were such names as Hashim’s brother, Azam, cousin Roshan and nephew Mohibullah, but the jewel in the family crown was Jehangir Khan who ruled the British Open scene for over a decade well after his father Roshan had retired. Roshan Khan’s death in Karachi on Friday marks the end of an era of Pakistan’s supremacy in squash which began in the early fifties and continued well into the eighties of the last century. Hashim Khan won the British title for six years, running from 1951 onwards, until he was dethroned in 1957 by Roshan Khan. Although lacking Hashim Khan’s finesse, Roshan Khan could produce flashes of lightning speed and stamina which often left his opponents breathless. His more gifted son Jehangir inherited some of his father’s qualities and added to them some of his own. Indeed, the Khan family lent squash an exotic touch not known before or since.
In the passing of Roshan Khan the romantic era in squash has come to an end in Pakistan. No single family has done more for any other sport than the Khans did for squash. The game has fallen to a new low in the country and it will be some years before we can see the likes of Hashim, Roshan, Mohibullah and Jehangir Khan again.
This rumpus over the dam
I HAPPEN to be in the ranks of the ordinary citizenry that is baffled by the passionate rhetoric on the passions aroused by the current debate on new large water reservoirs. Needless to say, when tongues lash one another, the flickering candle of rationality is smothered.
We must step backwards in time to understand the underlying causes of Sindh’s disenchantment, NWFP’s fear, Balochistan’s alienation and the perception of Punjab being the cause of all miseries.
Apparently, the gravamen of the mistrust relates to the Water Apportionment Accord of 1991. We do not know how and why this accord has broken down. And by whom and when? I have yet to see a white paper on this contentious issue. The accord must either be renegotiated or its contentious elements clarified in the Council of Common Interests, or referred to the Supreme Court of Pakistan for a binding decision or an advisory opinion.
An understanding with Sindhi sub-nationalism on the Indus water apportionment in times of plenty and scarcity will surely lead to an agreement on new water reservoirs. Are we not putting the cart before the horse by discussing dams without an agreement on the division of waters?
Sindhi culture and its folklore have an ancient attachment to the ebb and flow of the Indus — a sentiment not shared by any other province. The fear of the river running dry is what haunts the Sindhi psyche. The river has measured time since time immemorial. Sindh is a desert without this life-giving gift.
Each of our major water reservoir ambitions has one or other fatal flaw. Starting from the north, the Katzara dam, which is billed to be potentially the largest reservoir, is not in Pakistan territory. The status of Azad Kashmir and Northern Regions is to be determined. The dam is likely to submerge Skardu. This will surely strain our relations with Baltistan. Finally, it will take years to complete the feasibility studies for this project, leave alone constructing it. This project is a non-starter.
Next, Bhasha is said to be in a vulnerable seismic area. The wall of the dam projected at 921 feet is the highest of a dam wall built anywhere in the world. Bhasha will submerge over 250 miles of the Karakoram highway — the great monument to our friendship with China. The combination of seismic vulnerability and high-wall structure makes it vulnerable to a great disaster. The huge investment required for this project is not likely to be supported by the World Bank.
Kalabagh has all the natural advantages of a large water reservoir, but is not acceptable to Sindh and the NWFP for reasons fully articulated. It has become a political football: Punjab vs. the remaining provinces.
What should we do? The first and foremost the water apportionment between the provinces is the sine qua non for any dam building. The shares of the Indus water, particularly in times of scarcity, have to be agreed upon. The problem is trust deficit, not water. To restore trust we need an impartial tribunal to sit in judgment. And the party guilty be made to compensate the injured party.
New ideas also need to be examined. Can we not lessen the silting at Tarbela and Mangla? Surely, an answer must be available to this slow sitting up of these reservoirs. In technology, the only constant is change and this avenue is worth exploring.
President General Musharraf’s emphasis and personal interest in the brick-lining of water channels and courses, if lined by 2008 as planned, will save the water equivalent of two Mangla storages.
Thirdly, the age-old methods of flooding fields for irrigation must be abandoned. Water is currently regarded as a virtually free input for agriculture. Only when water is priced at its fair market value, will economics compel the agriculturist turn to modern irrigation methods such as drip or sprinkler irrigation. This is something that we can learn from countries with advanced irrigation systems. Israel has literally made a bone-dry desert bloom. It is a huge exporter of citrus, when previously no citrus fruits grew there. It probably uses about one-tenth the water we use to grow a similar quantity of wheat.
Finally, let it be said that the age of building of big dams is almost over. The visible and invisible costs of disturbing the environment, both human and ecological, is now recognized as a cost factor outweighing the benefits. Instead of building mega dams, which would generate four to five thousand mega watts of electricity, surely a dozen dams can be built on the Indus, which would no doubt produce lesser electricity and cause less human and ecological damage. Given the apprehensions of the Frontier, if we were to have a lake of a smaller size to generate, say, 1,000 MW of electricity at Kalabagh, it may remove the objections of the Frontier. In a nutshell, a paradigm shift is needed in our approach to harnessing the potentials of the Indus river.
The area worst affected by the 1962 Indus Water Treaty with India is southern Punjab. This area no longer draws water from the Sutlej river, which formerly it did.
If Sindh claims all the Indus Water to be its own being the lowest riparian, why not southern Punjab as a beneficiary? Reason: this region does not have a voice in our federation. This region carries the burden of Punjab’s disadvantages without many of its advantages. As a result, the voice of Southern Punjab is muffled.
To give them this voice, southern Punjab should be constituted as a province. But, unfortunately, the area lacks a unity of purpose to press for its basic rights. Punjab has become the whipping boy of our inter-provincial politics because of its size, population and relative affluence. It is more sinned against than sinning. Would it not be in the best interests of Punjab and Pakistan if this province is trifurcated between its southern, central and northern parts? A southern Punjab province would be better placed to negotiate the sharing of the Indus waters with Sindh.
The polemics surrounding the KBD highlights the fact that we have not really jelled as a nation. Two distinguished parliamentarians have taken the view publicly that the KBD would call into question the viability of the federation. The provincial structure that we inherited in 1947 is still virtually the same. A re-examination of provincial boundaries is taboo. This is a subject fit for a referendum. The same can be said of Azad Kashmir and the Northern regions; one wonders how long will our part of Kashmir remain in a political limbo? With a population five to six times what it was 58 years ago and all regions vying for maximum autonomy — an inexorable trend likely to continue — is it not time to go back to the fundamentals of our existence as a nation.
“Religion is not the business of the state” declared our founder. By making it the business of the state needless controversies have been created. For the last two decades, we deluded ourselves in thinking that religion is the glue that would bind the disparate ethnic and regional groups of this country. How wrong this has proved to be. And how right was our Quaid. This recent controversy appears to indicate that the real glue is the jelling of regional and ethnic aspirations and facing these realities head on.
The writer is a member of the National Assembly.
Email: murbr@isb.paknet.com.pk





























