Dr Nukhbah Taj Langah, political activist and scholar, says the power brokers marginalise Pakistan’s regional identities. In her view, several political parties have used the Seraiki card for political gains, but “... by no means can they ignore the rational demand for a Seraiki province.” It is, she says, a democratic right of a major population residing in the present Punjab.

The Pakistan Seraiki Party chairperson recently visited the flood-affected Seraiki areas and says the devastation is hurting people on an unimaginable scale:

“I had a chance to visit Rajanpur, Fazilpur and Dera Ghazi Khan soon after the flood. These are the most affected Seraiki areas. Teams from our party are also helping people on a personal level at Rahim Yar Khan. At Fazilpur, some literary circles and activists are working collaboratively to help people. However, I am sorry to report that the situation is grim.”

Dr Langah, who has a doctoral degree from the University of Leeds, UK, currently teaches English at FC College University, Lahore. In addition to three edited volumes, her seminal work, Poetry and Resistance: Islam and Ethnicity in Pakistan (Routledge, 2012), convincingly argues the cogency of a Seraiki culture as a distinctive historical and linguistic identity. She has also done post-doctoral research at the Centre for South Asian Studies in Paris and the University of London, UK.

In the following interview with The News on Sunday, Dr Langah talks about the proposed Seraiki province, the ongoing “political hypocrisy” on the issue, poetry as a form of cultural resistance and the political struggle for the rights of the Seraiki-speaking population.

By

Dr Qaisar Abbas

The News on Sunday (TNS): You are a professor of English, a political activist and a researcher with published books and papers to your credit. Which of these roles is closer to your heart?

Dr Nukhbah Taj Langah (NTL): I was professionally trained as an academic and raised as an activist under my father’s (late Barrister Taj Mohammad Khan Langah) mature mentorship. Therefore, academia is my passion (and practically my profession). Activism is my commitment to my vusaib and the continuity of my father’s struggle. As a researcher, I am also a lifelong learner and always strive to improve my skills in both these areas.

However, at this stage in my life, I feel that both these aspects of my life complement each other. As an activist, I continue to research and write about the plight of the Seraiki people and feel empowered to rationally voice their grievances nationally and internationally. Theoretically, the Seraiki question has been debated in my book Poetry as Resistance: Islam and Ethnicity in Pakistan (Routledge, 2012). In addition, I believe that my role as a professor of English has broadened the scope of my research on Seraiki. Thus, I continue to publish academic papers on various aspects of Seraiki culture and identity. This includes folk culture, contemporary resistance literature, the influences of Khwaja Fareed’s sufism, the feminist voices of Seraiki women, political resistance and the prospects of applying the digital humanities approach to Seraiki literary research.

I have also utilised my skills as a freelance translator to share Seraiki literature with a global audience by translating it into English. This includes the works of poets like Safeer Lashari, Aslam Javeed, Shakir Shujabadi, Riffat Abbas, Musarrat Kalanchvi, Shabnam Awan and Aslam Ansari.

At this stage of my life, I find both these roles close to my heart. I am unwilling to withdraw from these involvements as they have enriched my intellectual abilities and made my life more meaningful.

TNS: Your father, the late Taj Mohammad Langah, spearheaded the movement for a Seraiki province. What is your role in the contemporary Seraiki movement as a political activist? Did you face any hurdles in a male-dominated political world?

NTL: You are correct in identifying my father’s pivotal role in maturing the Seraiki ideology and political demand for the Seraiki province. He built momentum on the political front, which eventually complemented the literary efforts, which became necessary for materialising the demand for the Seraiki province. From the 1970s until he died in 2013, this was his major goal in life. It is undoubtedly impossible to fully replace his leadership, political acumen and motivation to continue this political struggle.

After he died, senior party cadres requested me to replace him in the best interest of his political party (Pakistan Siraiki Party). So I joined in the capacity of president (my father’s actual role) after his death on April 7, 2013. The party officialised this through elections and consensus.

Despite my academic pursuits, I have played an important part in keeping the party integrated. With my husband’s (Dr Maqsood Ahmed Langah) support and encouragement, I am fully involved in the party organisation, policy, decision-making and dealing with ongoing matters.

About five years ago, we made some constitutional changes, and I was elected as the chairperson for life. After that, Allah Nawaz Wains (Advocate), actively engaged in the field, was elected as party president. He is now completing his second (three-year) term in his current role. New people have joined the party, and all our critical units are active and fully involved in political activities within the vusaib and nationally. This year they have particularly addressed issues like land-grab and famine in Cholistan. Senior party cadres have worked actively in Cholistan for nearly three months to connect with the local people and voice their plight.

Despite my academic pursuits, I was fully aware of the party workers and cadres even in my father’s life. I had always collaborated with him in the background and supported his cause in his life. There was no aspect of his political struggle that I had missed during his life, even if I was engaged in my academic pursuits or temporarily abroad.

This was also due to my research on Seraiki political resistance. I had been attending important party meetings, events, and jalsas. Since my father knew all his cadres, I also interacted with their families and understood their political involvement.

Consequently, after my father’s demise, I never had a problem interacting with them. They accepted me wholeheartedly and, in fact, shared my grief. Moreover, I have no siblings and had already lost my mother in 2008. Hence, my party became my extended family. Despite their limited resources, their moral support and respect enabled me to overcome the trauma of losing my parents, particularly my father, who we all regarded as our political mentor. However, at times, there may be some gaps perhaps due to the overarching socio-cultural expectations. I cannot fully define such gaps as a bias because in general, they have accepted my engagement with the community of activists while also respecting my role as a woman, as a mother, as a wife and as a professional/ academic.

It is important to mention that as part of my upbringing, my parents gave me complete freedom to become an independent, empowered woman. I have lived and travelled independently and made important decisions in my life.

Despite our family’s feudal mindset, I was never made to feel marginalised based on my gender. The credit for this goes to my parents and later to my husband. I received the same support from the party in my leadership role after my father’s death. Culturally, we may have a male-dominated society, but being a female has never hindered me from collaborating with my cadres.

Beyond my own experience, in general, Seraiki women are not encouraged to get out of their domestic space, despite being educated. Even women writers are not actively invited to male-dominated literary discourses and literary events like mushairas etc. Even the work of Seraiki women writers is rarely discussed in the literary domain. Therefore, women who are active in the Seraiki political discourse are generally the ones who have a passion for serving their region and community. Still, this minority rarely includes highly educated women or those who can afford to actively join the Seraiki movement. Hence, there is a dearth of professional women (e.g., lawyers, professors, doctors) actively participating in the Seraiki political discourse. The dominating patriarchal and feudal system leads to a kind of bias against promoting the active participation of women within political discourse; their fathers, brothers and husbands do not generally support their involvement in political activity and the few joining this discourse may generally include those who are either independent decision makers or - rarely - supported by families or those who belong to the second generation of Seraiki activists.

TNS: As indicated in your published work, the ruling alliance in postcolonial Pakistan has conveniently replaced the former British rulers in suppressing smaller provinces. Would you like to explain it further?

NTL: Neocolonial hegemonic rulers in Pakistan have replaced postcolonial rulers. In my book, I have regarded the Punjabi-Mohajir ruling ‘elite’ as representatives of this discourse. I am primarily interested in the neocolonial discourse on the ruling elite rather than generalising these responses. In the expanding political crisis of Pakistan, this ruling elite may also include bureaucracy, dominant institutions, or the privileged (financially, ethnically, linguistically) class. This dominant group disregards the existence of diverse languages, identities and regions in Pakistan and refuses to accept anything beyond the ‘one nation, one language’ theory.

The so-called ‘power brokers’ purpose is to strengthen themselves and their offspring in the country’s power politics and maintain an upper hand in developing Lahore and Islamabad as compared to equally balancing power and economy in the Seraiki vusaib. Hence, they have a crucial role in undermining the potential and marginalising the Seraiki youth today. Their objective is to keep their political power one way or the other and continue marginalising the regional identities in Pakistan while also disregarding their claim to be the sons of the soil instead of migrants. They want to promote the idea that such diverse identities in Pakistan will shake the basis of the country. The Seraiki Party has proposed a Seraiki province within the federation of Pakistan. However, the suppression and disregard of a democratic question has been extreme.

TNS: Three major parties, the PPP,the PML-N, and the PTI, support the formation of the Seraiki province. Practically, however, they have been using delaying tactics. Can the province become a reality in our lifetime?

NTL: The negative side of the picture may be that all major parties use the Seraiki card to secure their vote bank and forget to pursue the case in the parliament once elected. The positive side of this picture is that by no means can they ignore the rational demand for a Seraiki province. It is a factual and historical reality and a democratic right of a major population residing in the present Punjab. Historically, only a small portion of the Punjab has been a Punjabi-speaking area. This is clear through the claim for more than 23 districts of the Punjab as Seraiki province.

Realising the possibility of losing an upper hand over the Punjab, specific tactics like changing the demography of Seraiki areas such as Bahawalpur and Rahim Yar Khan are already in play. The goal is to weaken the demand for the Seraiki province. If this province materialises, it will impact the economy, hegemonic role, and, most of all, parliamentary representation of the Punjab.

Another tactic is that the industrial projects established in the Seraiki area, including important oil and sugar mills or cotton factory owners, have made deliberate efforts to give jobs to people from upper Punjab instead of accommodating the local community. Hence, a major part of the Seraiki speaking population is forced to migrate to cities like Karachi and Lahore or the UAE in search of odd jobs while people from upper Punjab dominate the job front in the vusaib.

Moreover, all essential government jobs are filled with non-Seraiki youth who are deliberately given priority over the struggling and educated Serakis. Therefore, offering an administrative unit to the vusaib has not helped much. Moreover, if it is done to accommodate people from upper Punjab, it does not serve its purpose.

There may be many such tactics at work if observed closely. For instance, in addition to imposing a changed demography, land-grab in the Seraiki vusaib is a critical concern. The best example in this regard is the area of Cholistan, where local people are treated as non-residents; their land is bought for peanuts by people from other provinces, government officials and institutions. The rare historical monuments in this region are in desperate need of care and preservation, and there is no project for setting up a local museum. Instead, the antiquities and wonders buried under this historical desert are being discovered and stolen from this region and either sold or occupied by people who are not sons of the soil. No active research or preservation plan has been announced at the state level in this vast region, which is strongly endangered, just like the Seraiki language, culture, and identity.

All major political parties are aware of these facts. If they ignore the demand for Seraiki province for their vested interests, then it is a sorry sight. Seraiki people do not retaliate aggressively but continue their peaceful struggle, but they are financially and politically marginalised by the rulers.

Hence, I do not know whether the province may materialise in our lifetime. It was also my father’s dream. But I am optimistic that this is not a demand that will die despite the unfair tactics adopted by the ruling class. Despite all the limitations, the Seraiki people are fully aware of their political suppression and will be forced to resist politically if their demands are not fulfilled. Their weaknesses may slow down the process, but it is too late to suppress their voices as it is a matter of the survival for the coming generations. The key question is, why should they not be identified as Seraikis when we have historical evidence that is being distorted?

TNS: Your book, Resistance and Poetry, referred to Balakh Sher Mazari’s statement that the Punjab should be divided into Pothwar, Central Punjab and a Seraiki provinces. How practical is this idea in the current political environment?

NTL: Yes, this reference is based on Mazari’s discussion with my father in a meeting they had in London, which I happened to attend as a doctorate scholar working on Seraiki identity and resistance literature at the University of Leeds. The idea of smaller and linguistic provinces is not new; such policies have been implemented in many countries including Canada, Switzerland and India.

Several countries have official, national, regional and minority languages. This means a balanced federation and not accumulating power in the hands of the ruling minority, as we are witnessing in Pakistan. The local governments can be empowered while reducing the grievances of those who are being treated as minorities. This is also a vision of true democracy, which I am not sure has matured in Pakistan. The idea can no doubt be implemented in Pakistan only if the ruling circles take such issues seriously instead of consuming the resources of all lands and peoples for their interests.

For this to materialise, however, the government needs to take practical steps toward understanding and erasing the political and economic suppression of Pakistan’s ethnic and linguistic diversity. The current political despondency followed by Covid, natural disasters, economic crisis, inflation and the imbalanced democracy has made life more difficult for a common person in Pakistan. In general, the public is mainly struggling with basic survival needs, thus dealing with the immediate crisis that seems to overshadow significant issues like creating a new province.

TNS: In the same book, you invariably use two terms, Seraikistan and Seraiki Sooba. Do these represent different concepts, or are they the two sides of the same coin?

NTL: These two terms are the two sides of the same coin. The official term used by Seraiki activists for Seraiki Sooba is Seraikistan. The term has become even more popular amongst Seraiki people due to the resistance and insecurity towards the province’s name, which has been distorted through labels such as Bahawalpur-Janoobi-Punjab and South Punjab.

Over 23 districts of the Punjab province that Seraiki activists claim as Seraiki Sooba or Seraikistan are tagged as Janoobi Punjab, which is regarded as a derogatory term by Seraiki people. Seraikistan province stands for an identity while labelling it as Janoobi Punjab creates the impression that there is a Shumali Punjab and a Janoobi Punjab and they are, in fact, two parts of the Punjab.

Such an approach is no acknowledgement of the Seraiki identity. In 2013, the PMLN created further controversy by proposing a Bahawalpur-Janoobi Punjab province. The purpose was to manage Bahawalpur as a mini-Punjab. No doubt this objective is being achieved by changing the demography of this area by settling non-native population from Shumali Punjab. They have invested in this region by grabbing lands or have been accommodated by being given better jobs and perks compared to the local population.

Some over-enthusiastic critics regard the Seraikistan demand as a populist slogan or a symbol of separatist tendencies. However, this is not the intention with which the Seraiki activists have proposed the bifurcation of present Punjab through the demand for a Seraiki Sooba or Seraikistan province. Instead, this demand is mainly based on addressing the question of political representation of an ethnic and linguistic identity that is being politically, economically, socially, and culturally marginalised in the so-called democracy.

TNS: Poetry has been a popular form of cultural resistance, especially in Sindhi, Balochi and Seraiki languages. How would you differentiate the nature of resistance in Seraiki’s poetry from the other two languages?

NTL: I don’t think I have done enough research on other languages so far to be able to draw this comparison. I am also limited due to insufficient competency in many languages in Pakistan. I mainly rely on their translations in Urdu, Seraiki or English unless I try to learn those.

However, I know that literature has been a popular form of expressing political resistance, even in regional languages. A recent chapter for a history book being edited by my senior colleague and established historian at Forman Christian College University, Dr Sikandar Hayat, provided me with the opportunity to research Pakistani languages and literature. As part of this study, I had the chance to dig out and read about the literature produced in several Pakistani languages. This review chapter made me understand that most languages include resistance literature whenever a question of political suppression emerges. This is primarily visible in Sindhi, Balochi and Pashto literature.

The nature of resistance depends on the political context and timeframe in which the writer produces this creative project. For example, this may be resistance against a certain political regime, the establishment, and the marginalisation of identity or gender. Recently, I have looked forward to the literature being produced as an outcome of political resistance (against extremism) budding from Swat.

Compared to other languages, Seraiki poetry addresses the identity question and the demand for a Seraiki province. This is a major issue because we don’t have a province, unlike Sindh, the KP, and Balochistan. For decades, our language has been labelled as a dialect of Sindhi or Punjabi, whereas it is the only language spoken and understood in addition to Urdu in the KP, Sindh and Balochistan. It took us years to fight to add the Seraiki language to the consensus forms or get the language recognised for being taught in institutions. It is taught at undergraduate and graduate levels but still not in schools. Due to these realities, we feel way behind the languages that proudly boast the status as the provincial languages of Sindh, Balochistan and the KP.

TNS: In what ways has resistance in Seraiki poetry played a vital role in promoting the rights of Seraiki-speaking people and their demand for a new province?

NTL: Seraiki poetry has been pivotal in showing literary resistance in Seraiki culture. This was evident as early as when Khwaja Ghulam Fareed wrote kafis (apni nagri ap wasa tun put angreezi thanay) or even before that.

This legacy of resisting through poetry has continued until today. If Shakir Shujabadi has resisted the class oppression through his poetry, then Ashiq Buzdar and Jehangir Mukhlis, Safeer Lashari have highlighted the ongoing dilemma of the Seraiki identity: the demand for a Seraiki province. Many such poets have inspired Seraiki activists and attracted them to use such poetry as their political slogans.

Today we find several budding resistance poets, including women writers, producing Seraiki literature. However, due to lack of state patronage, they do not have a forum to get their work published and rely on their limited resources for self-publishing. Furthermore, no state institution encourages promoting their talent or translating their work. Such efforts are privately encouraged by literary circles. Instead, Seraiki writers are still listed as Punjabi writers in catalogues and anthologies.

As one piece of evidence, the state has failed to preserve the works of Khwaja Ghulam Fareed, endangered in the shabby conditions where they are kept. Likewise, poets like Shakir Shujabadi need state support to fight their physical limitations, but there is no permanent plan for such situations.

Additionally, Ashiq Buzdar must raise funds to organise the annual Mehraywala Mela, which has been done for over three decades. Women writers need support and mentorship, but the male dominance of the literary domain has prevented their emancipation and restricted their literary voices. There is no established Seraiki Academy that can promote and publish Seraiki literature.

Poetic expression is deeply embedded in Seraiki literary tradition and reflects its rich historical, cultural and aesthetic dimension, further enriched by the sufi philosophy. There is no way we can detach our literary resistance from the political one.

At one level, both the poets/ writers and political activists are fighting on the same front but only through different mediums: one as literary-political resistance and the other as political activism in the field. Both aim to make people politically aware of their ethnic origins, history, language, culture, and identity (collectively representing the vusaib) and identify the need for a province that will uplift and empower their identity. In my view, literary and political resistance are two parallel streams working towards the same cause. However, the political resistance and mass mobilisation involving women and youth is the need of the hour.

The interviewer has co-edited From Terrorism to Television: Dynamics of Media, State and Society in Pakistan (Routledge, 2020). As an Urdu poet, academic scholar, and freelance journalist based in the United States, he has served several American universities as assistant dean,director and professor of mass communication