Between South and Central Asia

Himal/ August 2008

By: Aunohita Mojumdar


SAARC aside, Afghans themselves are wrestling with what it means to be Southasian.

In a warm summer day in New Delhi in April 2007, Afghanistan was inducted as the eighth member of SAARC, the first such expansion in the organisation’s 22-year history. But did 3 April really mark a change in how Afghans viewed themselves? Did it identify a latent identity that was overdue its recognition, or was it more of a marker of future possibilities? Was this identity the construct of the governments and political classes, or was there affirmation from the citizenry? More than a year later, the answers from the ground in Afghanistan remain wide and varied.

Despite an overwhelming interest in the movies and music emanating from Southasia, especially India (something that is often equated with a consonance of identities), the wider region has limited influence on the social, political and cultural context of Afghanistan. Whether it is the aid money, mainly from Western donors, which currently accounts for 90 percent of all public expenditure; the fact that Westerners are determining the country’s political institutions and economic policies; or that every aspect of gender rights, human rights or other political and civil matters are evaluated against a Western benchmark, both by people promoting or decrying it – in all of this, there is currently very little that is drawn from Afghanistan’s links to the two regions of South and Central Asia.

So what does it mean for Afghanistan to have become a member of SAARC? Some are emphatic. Haroun Mir, a keen observer of politics who has set up an Afghan think tank that looks at economics, feels that his country’s inclusion in the regional grouping is to be welcomed wholeheartedly. Afghans have always considered themselves a part of Southasia due to the influence of Indian culture, he says – something that is still growing, with Afghans keenly watching Bollywood movies and television soap operas.

Does this mean it is the soporific impact of Indian serials that constitute the narcotic binding Afghanistan to Southasia? Sardar, a young journalist working for an international wire agency, disagrees. “I watch Indian movies. I see the Indian culture. I look at the Taj Mahal,” he says. “But I watch it from a distance, like something strange and wonderful but alien. I am a Tajik-speaking Afghan, and I feel more Central Asian because the roots of my identity lie in Central Asia and in Persia.” Sardar emphasises that his Pashtun countrymen might feel very different, however, due to their closer connection with the Southasian region across the southern border with Pakistan.

Though Sardar and Mir are at odds about how they feel, they do agree on one aspect. The future of Afghanistan, they say, will lie not in joining one or the other region, but by being the bridge between South and Central Asia. Mir feels it is as a transit route that Afghanistan will define its future identity. He says, “Without this, we will be divided along ethnic lines, and that will damage us.” For his part, Sardar speaks of the need to revive Afghanistan’s role on the old Silk Road. Nilabh, a young professional also talks about the country being a bridge between the two regions – politically, geographically and economically. But all agree that Afghanistan’s evolution as a bridge between cultures can only become a reality when the political problems are solved.

Politics first
Aziz Hakimi, an independent consultant with a keen interest in and strong views on issues of identity and nation-building, questions the very concept of Southasia, asking what the countries of the region actually have in common. “India itself is so diverse. So is Afghanistan,” he notes. “I have trouble finding my Afghan identity, let alone Southasian or Central Asian.” Hakimi believes that a significant sense of identity can emerge, but that it cannot be created through political mechanisms such as SAARC. “It has to be a bottom-up approach,” he says. “Politicians are not dealing with the most critical issues, the day-to-day problems. Today, the countries of Southasia cannot even trade with each other, due to barriers. If the critical issues are dealt with, the larger identity will emerge.”

Nilabh believes in the idea of multiple identities. The differences in language, culture, dress and even facial characteristics make Afghans a part of many cultures, but there is nothing distinct that defines Afghans as Afghans. He says, “On the metros in Europe, I have often been asked where I am from, with people guessing many countries. But not once have I been asked whether I am Afghan.”

Without doubt, the current decision-makers in Kabul are looking towards the West rather than towards Southasia. This can be put down to the overwhelming dominance of the Western donors, and to the fact that the majority of influential decision-makers have returned from exile in the West. Nilabh sees this as a form of self-protection: “During the war, there was trouble from some of the neighbouring countries; Afghanistan needs protection.” For his part, Mir feels this orientation towards the West will not last. “This will change soon,” he says confidently. “More than 40 percent of Afghanistan’s population is under the age of 18 years. They are our next leaders; they will turn towards Southasia.”

Aunohita Mojumdar is a Kabul-based contributing editor for Himal Southasian.