The critical issue. A small opening for peace

Many years ago I was able to travel to Pakistan on what is called a ‘pilgrim’ visa. After our flight landed in Lahore, it was discovered that there was a slight mistake in the handwritten date on my visa. Consternation followed: I’m Indian, could I be allowed in on a ‘faulty’ visa?

Luckily for me, two friends were making the same trip and we had all applied for our visas together; their consecutive numbers showed the mistake to be precisely that, a mistake. The immigration officers were kind and they decided to let me in. “Poor lady,” the senior officer told his junior. “She’s come to worship, why should a small mistake keep her from praying?” And with this, I was able to enter Pakistan.

I visited Nankana Sahib shortly after that. Located a few hours from Lahore, this is the birthplace of Guru Nanak and it was there he first established his message of peace and harmony. For this reason, he was also loved by Hindus and Muslims, and stories abound of how both communities see him as one of their own. In the township around the gurdwara, according to residents, the gurdwara school is appreciated by all communities for the quality of its education.

Grateful though I was to the immigration officer, I had not gone to the gurdwara to worship, but out of curiosity and interest. As someone interested in the Partition, and someone who is part-Sikh, I knew that one of the biggest losses for the Sikhs was the several important gurdwaras located in Pakistan. I knew, too, that each year groups of worshippers travelled to places where their guru was born, where he died, where he left his handprint and so on. And I wanted to see and understand what these shrines meant to the community of believers.

The gurdwara was crowded with worshippers, both Sikh and Muslim. The Granthi told us that regular jathas of pilgrims came all the time. So the recent jubilation over the announcement of a corridor that will allow pilgrims visa-free access to Gurdwara Darbar Singh Kartarpur does not come as a surprise. For years, Sikhs have been asking for access to their holy shrines. Why should their right to worship be impacted by political battles between the two countries?

And here, at last, is a chance to (at least partially) exercise that right.

But even as people celebrate, they’re wondering how this intention to create a corridor will take shape. And while they’re thinking about that, politicians are intent upon scoring points. Who made the announcement first? Who held the first inauguration ceremony? Who’ll get the kudos for this?

The Prime Minister (ours, I mean) has compared the announcement of the corridor to the breaking down of the Berlin wall. This is a tall claim. And there are some crucial differences. The wall came down not because politicians announced its destruction but because, crucially, people had had enough and they pulled it down, brick by brick. Its destruction led to the free flow of people, to the breaking down of many — perhaps not all — boundaries, and the creation of a single country.

This will not happen with India and Pakistan, of course. Nor will the other changes that happened in Germany. So what will the corridor actually achieve?

It’s difficult to answer this with any certainty at this point when we don’t even know if the corridor will actually happen, and, if it does, what kind of freedom people will have to travel those few kilometres to reach the shrine at Kartarpur Sahib. Will they need permits? Can anyone go? Gurdwaras are traditionally free spaces, not barred to any religion and, in theory (though, sometimes, not in practice), to any caste. All you’re asked to do is cover your head. Will it be the same for those who wish to journey across?

There’s no doubt that such an initiative is important. To actualise it, the two countries will have to work together and, with some goodwill, figure out the best ways to do it. Perhaps this will lead to further dialogue — the hope that citizens live with endlessly, as our governments continue to spat and argue and score points.

But there’s also a tragic irony here. A corridor is, by definition, an internal structure, usually located within a building, enclosed on all sides. Yes, corridors give onto something — open spaces, other buildings, and so on, where you can walk freely, get out, go elsewhere. Here, tragically, we’re talking of an enclosed ‘structure’ (even if there will not be a built structure, it’s still virtually enclosed) from where you can only go to a designated place and then return.

And it’s this enclosed structure that we’re celebrating as the beginning of a process of ‘opening up’!

Urvashi Butalia is an editor, publisher and director of Zubaan

blink@thehindu.co.in

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