It's been almost two weeks since I left Islamabad, and I must say that while I'm enjoying being home, I do miss Pakistan. Anyone who has been reading my columns on a regular basis will probably have figured out by now that I'm a bit of a Pakophile - which might seem strange, since I'm not Pakistani. However, when you consider the commonalities between Ireland and Pakistan and the similar historical experiences of the two countries, I believe it makes a little more sense.
One of the very first things I noticed when I came to Pakistan was the uncanny similarity between Urdu and Gaelic - Ireland's native language. Now, I don't speak much Urdu, but I was amazed to discover that listening to an Urdu speaker count from one to ten was almost identical to listening to a Gaelic speaker count from one to ten. In fact, Gaelic sounds much closer to Urdu than to English – the language of Ireland's closest neighbours. When I dug deeper, I found that the two languages represent opposite ends of the geographic spread of the Indo-European family of languages, and that Gaelic and Urdu share more similarities than any of the other languages in the same linguistic group – suggesting that, at least linguistically, the Irish and the Pakistanis are distant relatives.
This discovery led me to look at other similarities between the two countries. I looked at the societal structure, and realized that both countries are basically tribal in nature. Of course, on the surface, tribalism in Pakistan is much more obvious and pronounced than in Ireland, but historically, the tribe or clan has also been the basic building block of Irish society. Here in Ireland, accents change every few miles, as you pass from one old tribal territory to another, and each clan can be traced to its traditional tribal homeland. My village is the ancestral home of the Byrne tribe, and to this day, there are so many Byrnes in the surrounding area that individual families are given nicknames (usually the name of an animal, for example, the 'Bear' Byrnes), so that people can differentiate between them. In fact, we even have our very own version of the “Tribal Areas”, which is, coincidentally, located in the north of the country, along our frontier with the UK. This area - commonly known as “Bandit Country” - has for decades been a no-go area for the police and the military and is a haven for smugglers and militants – not unlike the Tribal Areas of Pakistan.
Another important characteristic which is shared by both countries is the dominance of religion. Both the Irish and the Pakistanis have a reputation for being deeply religious. In both countries, everyday discussion is peppered with appeals and thanks to God. In Ireland, especially among my parents' generation, it is not uncommon for people to punctuate their sentences with “please God”, or “thanks be to God”, and in Gaelic, the standard greeting is “Dia dhuit”, which translates directly as “God be with you”. Before I left Pakistan a couple of weeks ago, I was on the phone to my father. I told him I'd be seeing him very soon, to which he replied - “Please, God” - or in other words - “Insha Allāh”.
Both in Ireland and in Pakistan, the clergy have capitalized on the devotion of the people - so as to empower themselves politically. In both countries, the position of the dominant religion and the role of the clergy was enshrined in law. The “special position” of the Roman Catholic Church was acknowledged in the Irish Constitution, while Pakistan became officially known as the “Islamic Republic of Pakistan”. In both countries, religious orders have also played a dominant role in education. Pakistan has its Madrasas and most of Ireland's schools have historically been run by the Church. In fact, the involvement of Irish religious orders in education extends to Pakistan. Pakistan's current President, Asif Ali Zardari, along with his predecessor, General Pervez Musharraf, studied at St. Patrick's Highschool in Karachi (though perhaps this is not something for an Irishman to brag about), and to this day, Irish nuns who are involved in education constitute the closest thing Pakistan has to an Irish community.
Ireland and Pakistan have also been through similar historical experiences, the most obvious example being their shared experience of British Colonial rule. Ireland, as Britain's first colony, served as a laboratory in which Britain perfected the tools and techniques necessary to build an empire upon which the sun never set. By the 1800s, the British had cemented their rule in India, but by the twentieth century, the writing was on the wall. Ireland gained its independence from Britain in 1922, and India followed suit some twenty-five years later. In both cases, as the British withdrew, they partitioned the territories, primarily along sectarian lines – dividing the island of Ireland into the Irish Free State (which would later become the Republic of Ireland), and the statelet of Northern Ireland – and creating Pakistan by partitioning India into a Muslim dominated state and a Hindu dominated state (while leaving Kashmir as a bone of contention between the two).
In Ireland and in South Asia, partition was followed by decades of nationalist and sectarian strife. Ireland's armed conflict ended in 1994 (though some hardcore extremists continue to engage in violence to this day), while Pakistan remains trapped in a rapid downward spiral of terrorism and sectarianism. One of the key architects of India's partition, Lord Louis Mountbatten, earned a space in the history books both in Ireland and in Pakistan. In his later years, Mountbatten holidayed regularly in the Republic of Ireland. In 1979, when the conflict in Ireland was gaining pace, Mountbatten's fishing boat was bombed by the Irish Republican Army – a protagonist in Britain's partition of India had become a victim of a conflict ignited in large part by Britain's partition of Ireland.
Later, during the post-war period, large numbers of Pakistanis and Irish emigrated to Britain, drawn by the prospect of more favourable economic opportunities. The diasporas of both countries went on to form large ethnic minorities in the UK, where they were subjected to racial discrimination by some members of their host community. Both the Irish and the Pakistanis were given derisive ethnic labels – the Irish becoming known as “Paddys” and the Pakistanis becoming known as “Pakis”. Amusingly, while researching for this column, I came across an episode of the 1970s British comedy “Till Death Do Us Part”, which featured a half-Pakistani, half-Irish character, named Kevin O'Grady, who was referred to as “Paki-Paddy”. Towards the end of the episode, Mr. O'Grady's exit from a pub was followed by a loud explosion, after which he staggered back inside, his clothes torn from the bombing, and exclaimed “bloody Irish!”. If a similar TV series was filmed today, the key difference would be that Mr. O'Grady would most likely be blaming the “bloody Muslims”.
(Skip to 20:25 for the relevant scene)
The similarities between the cultural and historical experiences of the Irish and the Pakistanis are difficult to deny. The narratives are so similar. The main players are the same. Maybe this is why I felt so at home in Pakistan. Maybe this is why everything felt so familiar. It is almost as though both nations, separated by thousands of miles, have been acting out the same script – and if this turns out to be the case, then surely it is cause for optimism – because, as we have seen in Ireland, however desperate things might seem, conflict doesn't last forever. Eventually, even those who are quick to turn to the bomb and the bullet to settle scores or to maintain their grip on power, realize that if they keep going down the path of violence and oppression, there will be nothing left for anyone to fight for.
