Taliban Have Left Swat & the Music Has Started Playing

By Manzoor Ali of Express Tribune/ Feb 16, 2011

On a chilly February evening, my friend and I knock on doors in localities in eastern part of Mingora, searching for Swat’s age-long culture, but there is no answer from any house. There is no electricity in the area and the narrow alleys are dark.

Occasional visitors brush past using their mobile phones as torches. Finally, there is a response as a young boy peeps out from a door. After an exchange of whispers we are led to a cramped room of a two- storey house. The room is bare and a tattered sofa lies in a corner. A gas burner dimly lights up the room.

The houses here are famous for their fair skinned dancing girls. Now the women, once targeted by the Taliban, are back in business and music reverberates till late at night.

After a few minutes, the young boy who had opened the door ushers two young girls into the room. Attired in black and red dresses, they say they are cousins and introduce themselves as Rani and Muskan.

In late 2008 at the peak of militancy, Muskan and Rani left their homes for Karachi to escape persecution from the Taliban.

Barely a month after their departure on January 2, 2009, Taliban knocked on a door opposite to their house and dragged out dancer Shabana to Green Chowk. Green Chowk remained true to its other name, Khooni Chowk, and Shabana was shot at the square famous for executions.

Shabana’s death created a ripple effect and almost all girls left their homes for safer places.

“We heard the news of Shabana’s death in Karachi. I was sad and scared.  We too, could have met the same fate if we had not left our homes,” Muskan told The Express Tribune.

In March 2009, authorities agreed with Sufi Mohammad to effectively remove the girls from Swat, following the short-lived peace deal brokered by Sufi.

The situation has improved now and we no longer fear anyone. Swat is our home and we cannot live somewhere else, said Muskan, who is also a model and appears in Pashto song videos.

Rani added that their business has improved and now musical events are arranged with no restriction from the police or maulvis.

We learnt dance from our cousin Laila. After her wedding, we started performing to feed our 18 member family, Rani said. “There are at least 20 houses associated with this business at Bunrh and now there is no fear of the Taliban,” her brother Ashfaq said.

But there is fear. The first door my friends and I had knocked at was slain Shabana’s, and no member of her family came to open the door. They do not want to talk about that incident, my friend said.

Pervesh Shaheen, a local historian told The Express Tribune that under the Wali of Swat, there was official patronage to the dancers and they were paid a fixed amount after a function. No one was allowed to throw money while they danced, Shaheen said, adding that the girls were not involved in prostitution.

The discussion with Ashfaq comes to end as two customers are waiting upstairs. “Hopefully with time, Swat will move on, leaving behind ghosts from the violent past.”

Published by alaiwah

ALAIWAH'S PHILOSOPHY About 12 years ago, while studying Arabic in Cairo, I became friends with some Egyptian students. As we got to know each other better we also became concerned about each other’s way of life. They wanted to save my soul from eternally burning in hell by converting me to Islam. I wanted to save them from wasting their real life for an illusory afterlife by converting them to the secular worldview I grew up with. In one of our discussions they asked me if I was sure that there is no proof for God’s existence. The question took me by surprise. Where I had been intellectually socialized it was taken for granted that there was none. I tried to remember Kant’s critique of the ontological proof for God. “Fine,” Muhammad said, “but what about this table, does its existence depend on a cause?” “Of course,” I answered. “And its cause depends on a further cause?” Muhammad was referring to the metaphysical proof for God’s existence, first formulated by the Muslim philosopher Avicenna. Avicenna argues, things that depend on a cause for their existence must have something that exists through itself as their first cause. And this necessary existent is God. I had a counter-argument to that to which they in turn had a rejoinder. The discussion ended inconclusively. I did not convert to Islam, nor did my Egyptian friends become atheists. But I learned an important lesson from our discussions: that I hadn’t properly thought through some of the most basic convictions underlying my way of life and worldview — from God’s existence to the human good. The challenge of my Egyptian friends forced me to think hard about these issues and defend views that had never been questioned in the milieu where I came from. These discussions gave me first-hand insight into how deeply divided we are on fundamental moral, religious and philosophical questions. While many find these disagreements disheartening, I will argue that they can be a good thing — if we manage to make them fruitful for a culture debate. Can we be sure that our beliefs about the world match how the world actually is and that our subjective preferences match what is objectively in our best interest? If the truth is important to us these are pressing questions. We might value the truth for different reasons: because we want to live a life that is good and doesn’t just appear so; because we take knowing the truth to be an important component of the good life; because we consider living by the truth a moral obligation independent of any consequences; or because we want to come closer to God who is the Truth. Of course we wouldn’t hold our beliefs and values if we weren’t convinced that they are true. But that’s no evidence that they are. Weren’t my Egyptian friends just as convinced of their views as I was of mine? More generally: don’t we find a bewildering diversity of beliefs and values, all held with great conviction, across different times and cultures? If considerations such as these lead you to concede that your present convictions could be false, then you are a fallibilist. And if you are a fallibilist you can see why valuing the truth and valuing a culture of debate are related: because you will want to critically examine your beliefs and values, for which a culture of debate offers an excellent setting.

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