The birth of a new relationship

This past decade saw a deterioration in ties between India and Australia for various reasons, not necessarily political in nature. But the visit to India by Prime Minister Julia Gillard has changed all of that. New Delhi and Canberra are set on a fresh, cheerful course

As the deep drone of the didgeridoo permeated through the autumnal cool of the Purana Quila, it was impossible not to be swept away by the enchanting power of that moment. Somehow, the long trumpet-like musical instrument created by Australian Aborigines some 1,500 years ago had found its place within the high stone walls of one of India’s oldest fortresses, supposedly built even before the Mahabharat was written.

It was the opening night of the Oz Fest — a cultural festival aimed at promoting Australian traditions in India — and visiting Australian Prime Minister Julia Gillard among other dignitaries was in attendance. The concert that brought together the musical bests of both India and Australia was expected to mark the beginning of a new era in bilateral ties between the two countries. Yet, it was really the manner in which the great civilisational histories of both countries came together on that Tuesday evening, against the gorgeous backdrop of the Sher Mandal Observatory brought to life with mesmerising 3D light projections, that the foundation of a new friendship was really cemented.

Indeed, even as the Australian Prime Minister’s landmark three-day visit comes to a close, there is a definite sense of positivity that the new momentum that now enervates the India-Australia relationship will ride both countries towards a shared vision of the future — that of an Asian Century. To what extent that the optimism will actually flesh itself out in the form of political, social, economic and diplomatic ties is of course yet to be seen.

This past decade had in fact seen a deterioration of ties between the two countries. Bilateral relations had actually taken a turn for the worse after a series of unsavoury incidents during which Indian students came under attack in Australia, Australian cricketers accused their Indian counterpart of racial abuse, the Indian doctor Mohamed Haneef was held on terror charges in Australia, and New Delhi and Canberra sparred over Commonwealth Games contracts. To be sure, the nasty aftertaste of that period which many commentators refer to as the ‘lost decade’ still linger right below the surface. This has perhaps been most evident in the manner in which sections of the Australian media have slammed Prime Minister Gillard’s decision to confer upon Sachin Tendulkar the Member of the Order of Australia award. Clearly, not many in that country have put behind them the infamous ‘monkeygate’ scandal that saw Tendulkar stand by his team mate Harbhajan Singh.

Still, it seems unlikely that the relationship will go back to those days. There is definitely no doubt that a solid new beginning has been made. Ms Gillard’s personal initiative to end Australia’s prejudice towards India with respect to uranium exports has inarguably brought her tremendous goodwill within the country. After years of refusing to sell the yellow cake to India because New Delhi is not a signatory to the Treaty to the Non-Proliferation of Nuclear Weapons, which New Delhi considers to be discriminatory in nature, Ms Gillard’s Government overhauled Australian policy in this matter and lifted that pointless ban last November. It was not an easy move given that neither Australian public opinion nor the political opposition in that country was really in favour of such a policy reversal.

Nevertheless, India’s own stellar non-proliferation record, its reputation as a peaceful and stable democracy, alongside a waiver from the Nuclear Suppliers Group allowing New Delhi to engage in global nuclear commerce, strengthened its case significantly. Interestingly, Australia, as a NSG member, had supported the group’s decision in favour of India back in 2008 but had still continued with its national ban. In this context, it is important to bring in Australia’s own need to tap new markets to sell uranium coupled with India’s growing energy demands to see how these new developments offer a win-win situation for both countries.

That uranium has been the buzzword defining Ms Gillard’s first trip to the country as Prime Minister is perfectly understandable, and so is the excitement surrounding her announcement of nuclear cooperation talks between the two countries. But having said that, it is also imperative to add a cautionary note in this regard and ensure that high-pitched rhetoric does not overshadow pragmatism and practicality. As Ms Gillard has said, it might be years before Australia actually starts selling uranium to India. A nuclear safeguards agreement — similar to the India-US nuclear deal — will have to be put in place first, and given the technical, legal and even diplomatic complexities that will be involved, make no mistake, a long road lies ahead.

This is of course not to say that unless the nuclear deal comes through, bilateral relations between the two countries will be stuck in a limbo. In fact, much to the contrary, both New Delhi and Canberra will do well to take advantage of this new momentum in bilateral ties to strengthen ties in other areas as well. Primary among these should be increasing cooperation in the India-Pacific region — the emergence of which as a ‘security construct’ is now more or less taken for granted by a majority of regional observers.

Generally speaking, the Indian and the Pacific Ocean regions have been considered to be separate geo-political entities that almost never overlap, especially within the Asian security discourse. However, East Asia’s high growth rate, particularly China’s feverish construction of maritime infrastructure in the region — think of the oil pipelines that are being built to connect the Indian Ocean to western China — has forced a re-think of that earlier paradigm.

Add to that India’s growing economic relations with East Asia with a definite naval aspect (best encapsulated in New Delhi’s refurbished ‘Look East’ policy) and the argument for a more integrated and composite view of the region automatically gains traction. Now, as the new regional powers add flavour to this geo-political stew, garnish it with just a little bit of the traditional Great Power garam masala — and bingo! You have  a perfect dish that even the culinary star-critics ofMasterchef will have to approve.

At an earlier time, America’s military supremacy in the region would have been one of the main ingredients, but with the relative decline of the US, that has now somewhat changed. Of course, there should be no doubt about the fact the US will remain a major political and military force in the Asia-Pacific region for a long time — the Obama Administration’s ‘pivot to Asia’ strategy ensures just that. But there will now be a change in the manner in which the US functions as the primary security provider there with an increased dependence on American allies — both old like Australia and Japan and new like India — to share some of that responsibility. A situation such as this fits perfectly into New Delhi’s own changing maritime policies and priorities.

The exact contours of the Indo-Pacific region are still being debated. But, generally speaking, it is accepted as “an emerging Asian strategic system that encompasses both the Indian and the Pacific oceans, defined in part by the geographically expanding interests and reach of China and India, and the continued strategic role and presence of the United States in both”.

Indeed, it is this last definition — put forth by Rory Medcalf and others in their research paper, “Crisis and Confidence: Major Powers and Maritime Security in Indo-Pacific Asia” — that goes beyond the geographic to include the political and the strategic which has the most relevance for policy-makers both in India and Australia as they come together to keep the sea lanes in the India-Pacific region safe and open for business.

(This article was published in the Op-ed section of The Pioneer on October 18, 2012.)

Muslim rage is not about Islam

The outrage and the violent protests organised by Islamists across the world have nothing to do with the supposed desecration of religion. Instead, these incidents are calibrated attempts by so-called religious leaders to firm up their politics, even at the cost of people’s lives

Even before the crowd from the previous protest had returned home, a new mob had gathered on the streets. It had been gaining strength throughout the day as hundreds arrived loaded in trucks and buses, and more people from the outside kept pouring in. Over the next couple of hours, the crowd swelled in numbers and a few local leaders gradually took their position at the helm — soon, they were whipping up outrage against some vaguely defined but provocatively conveyed threat to their religion, their Prophet or their holy book. Timing was the key, so one waited cautiously for the crowd to be sufficiently riled and then, just when the passions peaked, it was let loose like a pack of blood thirsty wolves. What followed was hours, even days, of looting, raiding, pillaging, plundering and killing. Until finally, the security forces showed up and brought the situation somewhat under control.

This is a fairly accurate description of the events as they unfolded in the little Upazila of Ramu, located in the coastal Cox’s Bazar district in Bangladesh’s southern division of Chittagong on September 29 and 30, when Islamists went on the rampage in the area and attacked Buddhist temples and homes, after they discovered a picture of a burnt Quran on Facebook that was alleged ‘tagged’ to a local Buddhist boy.

According to the latest reports available, at least 12 temples were desecrated and nearly 50 Buddhist homes systematically destroyed. But the moot point here lies not in the details of this heinous incident that has deeply scarred Bangladesh’s socio-religious fabric but in the fact that the description applies to almost any ‘Muslim protest’ that has erupted in recent times in response to a supposed act of religious outrage.

Indeed, instead of Ramu Upazila, the narrative can just as easily be placed in Masuri village in Uttar Pradesh here in India, where a similar crowd went berserk and brutally attacked the local police station after someone found pages torn out of the Quran by the railway tracks last month. The narrative also fits well in many other places — from Mumbai’s Azad Maidan where a crowd protesting atrocities against Muslims in Burma and elsewhere went on a rampage to the US Embassy compound in Benghazi where an armed mob protesting a shoddily-made, obscure anti-Islamic film killed the American Ambassador to Libya.

Look closely and a clear pattern of pre-meditated violence that emerges through each of these cases is unmistakable. The cause of the violence and the outrage here is inconsequential. It can be anything — a book that nobody has heard of, a movie that nobody has seen because it was never publicly released, a photograph that is quite possibly doctored, a quote that remains unattributed, a conspiracy theory or even a cartoon. It doesn’t matter.  What matters is how, and of course with what result, that singular instance of outrage (real or imagined) is perverted so as to make it look like it is a universal insult to Islam and its 1.7 billion followers around the world.

First, the Islamists go all out to introduce that supposed object of religious insult — almost always an obscure one — to their local audience. Then, they systemically manufacture outrage against that same object. The campaign is almost always framed within the narrative of a victim-community; a community that has been and continues to be wronged by the world. Ridiculous as it may sound, the idea of being at the receiving end of a global conspiracy is particularly tempting and as we know from past experience, hugely effective. Finally, what serves as an icing on the cake is the fact that Islamists, almost everywhere in the world, are an especially well-organised group. This automatically allows them mobilise large sections of the population and mount an effective campaign.

In other words, the bottomline here is that the protests may be hinged around an Islamic (or more specifically, anti-Islamic) subject, but in reality they have little to do with religion. Instead, the issue is of politics and power-play. Religion is merely an excuse used by the Islamists to whip up passion and mobilise social groups so that they can ultimately implement the latter’s agenda. Indeed, this is an argument that even Muslims political observers themselves have made. For instance, Mr Husain Haqqani, Pakistan’s former Ambassador to the US, in his recently published article on ‘Muslim rage’ minces no words when he says, “The phenomenon of outrage over insults to Islam and its final Prophet is a function of modern-era politics. It started during Western colonial rule, with Muslim politicians seeking issues to mobilize their constituents… and Islamists emerged to claim that Islam is not merely a religion but also a political ideology.”

Indeed, Mr Haqqani traces back an early prototype of this kind of mass mobilisation within the Muslim world to a book published in British India back in 1927. Titled Rangeela Rasool (Playboy Prophet), it was a “salacious version of Muhammad’s life”, says Mr Haqqani, but “hardly a bestseller”. In fact, much the like anti-Islamic film that today is all the rage, so to say, this book too went largely unnoticed until two years after its publication when some Muslim politicians raised a hue and cry over it. The British Government of the day even arrested and tried the publisher but he was acquitted — only to be later stabbed to death by one Ilmuddin, an illiterate carpenter known only by his first name, in Lahore. Ilmuddin soon became a local hero of sorts. Islamist groups nicknamed him Ghazi (warrior) and he was defended in court by a man no less than Mohamed Ali Jinnnah (although on purely technical grounds, as Mr Haqqani points out in his essay). The book continued to be a polarising point between the Hindus and Muslims of undivided India and exacted its price in blood during Partition as well.

It is interesting to note that it was after this case of Ilmuddin that the British amended the Indian Penal Code to include punishment for blasphemy and incitement of religious hatred. It is equally ironical that a little less than a century later, another young man would once again share Ilmuddin’s fate and how! In January 2011, Mumtaz Qadri would also be celebrated as a national hero for killing Salman Taseer, the powerful Pakistani Governor of Punjab would had dared to opposed his country’s draconian blasphemy laws.

The lessons to be learnt from the past and the present are clear. These protests, wherever they may erupt, are not just a product of politics disguised as religion, but that they must be exposed as such. 

The moment the state begins to legitimise such violence as being a genuine case of religious grievance; it loses the plot and half the battle. The Bangladeshi Government realises this, which is why the whole deal about the Facebook picture was underplayed. The Pakistani Government on the other hand doesn’t get it at all and so, it had the Ishq-e-Rasool day, during which several persons where killed. India must learn its lessons from all this and stop pampering hardliners.

(This article was published in the op-ed section of The Pioneer on October 4, 2012.)