Plumbing new depths at the Poytakht

I'm typically a creature of fairly clean habits, but now and then events conspire against Me.I haven't brushed my teeth in three days. An unplanned stopover in London, a night flight over God knows where, tap water that comes with a reputable Typhoid warning, and a failure to remember to buy a bottle of water at any time other than three am have collectively booted dental hygiene out of the window.

When it comes to drinking tap water, and in particular using it for my teeth, I tend to be a little reckless. Thankfully I have guts of steel, so a mouthful of dubious murk here and there doesn't tend to phase me. Why, then, is this trip to Dushanbe any different? It's the plumbing at Hotel Poytaht.

Poytaht is a Soviet monster - a vast concrete facade, endless corridors with well-worn carpet, and a scowling babushka on every floor. The bathroom in my room is split into two parts for no immediately apparent reason: a toilet and sink, and a bath and sink. The pipes in the latter part sing through the night something that's reminiscent of whale song: a moaning, gurgling noise with the occasional whistle that makes me sure some unfortunate creature, dead or alive, must be jammed in a tube six feet up. When I turn on the taps there's a rushing of air, but whilst you'd expect it to herald a torrent of water, only a miserable dribble seeps forth. Many words spring to mind, but 'appetising' sadly isn't one of them.

I'm restricted, then, to substituting teeth brushing with a variety of ingenious (but not particularly effective) alternatives. I've dry-gargled with toothpaste, wiped my mouth round with wet wipes and drunk cup after cup of mildly antiseptic tea. I've still got that furry feeling though, only hopefully by morning it'll have reached the stage where I can't but remember to buy a damn bottle of water! 

Every so often there is the opportunity to travel a little closer to home, and though the wilds of Asia and Africa are fascinating, dear old Blighty is not without its charms. Summer may to date have been more than a little erratic, but on the three days last week of sunshine we escaped the office for the glorious coast of Norfolk.

You can tell you are approaching 'Chelsea on Sea' when the tractors are no longer John Deere or Massey Ferguson but Porsche Cayenne and Land Rover Evoque. The narrow streets of Burnham Market are lined with Rooney-mobiles and my 4x4, held together as it is with cable ties and gaffer tape, is the only one in sight that may actually have seen some mud. The children are Henry and Isabelle, the manicured wives are half a foot taller than their husbands, and the wines and cakes are organic, biodynamic and pricey. Far from escaping the city, it seems to have been dragged along behind.

We spent a pleasant hour or so mooching around, picnicked on the green and counted ourselves lucky we're not the kind of people who think £450 is a fair price for a woolly jumper. Back in the car, we explored the picturesque villages en-route to our B&B in Docking.

Holland House (http://www.hollandhousebandb.co.uk/) was a last-minute discovery courtesy of Trip Advisor. We knew little about the village, but it appeared a convenient point from which to explore the beaches, and they weren't averse to us coming with mongrel dog in tow.

The house itself is Grade 2 listed and was built in the 1700s by a wealthy Norfolk merchant, who probably made his money from the wool trade and/or smuggling liquor from the Continent when taxes in England were too high. The house is being lovingly restored by current owners, Mel and Steve, and samples of the historic wallpapers, dated by the V&A, hang on the breakfast room wall. Steve's art work, much of which depicts the nearby coast, decorates the rooms, and the house is a haven of peace. When the weather is fine, the sheltered garden is an ideal spot for curling up with a book in one of the deck chairs, and if you're lucky you'll even get a peep inside Steve's studio, where he works and also teaches others to paint.

Within 10 minutes drive from Docking, you are at the coast. Although Well-near-the-sea is a little crowded, and the fish and chip shops and souvenir stands do not help matters, the beaches are largely empty and unspoiled. During daylight hours there were a handful of people flying kites, walking their dogs and running frigid in and out of the sea, but as soon as dusk fell we had the sands to ourselves. Sand between your toes is an oft commented upon feel, but one that I truly adore.

Georgia on my mind

Forget the US, forget Ray Charles. The only Georgia on my radar is the former Soviet republic in the south Caucasus. A happy series of events have brought us into head-long collision with this most intriguing of countries at the same time that its nearest neighbour, Azerbaijan, has burst onto the world stage as host of the Eurovision song contest. I'm deeply sceptical as to whether Azerbaijan and Georgia should be considered part of Europe, even for the world's naffest talent show, but that's a discussion for a whole other day.

Few Europeans know anything about Georgia at all. Those with a weakness for Soviet history may recall Stalin was himself a Georgian at that the USSR was awash with Georgian champagne, but that's likely to be the extent of their knowledge. We've all been missing out.

Georgia is the home of wine, and not just any wine. The ancient Greeks considered it to be the finest wine in the known world, and vastly superior to their own somewhat vinegary efforts. For 8,000 years the Georgians have understood the need for stable temperatures during the fermentation process and therefore buried their wine in vast terracotta pots known as qvevri so that come rain or shine the temperature remained almost constant. Changing methods, intensive farming and artificial fertilisers and pesticides took their toll on quality during the 20th century, but now Georgian wines are experiencing a much-deserved revival, and the results are quite remarkable.

To try the finest wines that modern Georgia has to offer, we joined the Georgian Minister of the Economy, Vera Kobalia, food critics and invited guests at Hibiscus (www.hibiscusrestaurant.co.uk), the double Michelin starred restaurant in Mayfair. Wine connoisseur Isabelle Legeron matched seven of Georgia's best wines (all on the menu at Hibiscus) with chef Claude Bosi's dishes and over the course of three or four hours we learned about the history and techniques of Georgian wine making. Other than the importance of the qvevri, we discovered how Georgian white wines are often fermented with the grape skins, giving the resulting wines a gloriously rich orange colour.

Our second Georgian encounter, just three days later, was at the Raw Wine Fair (www.rawfair.com) in a converted brewery on London's Brick Lane. More than 200 natural wine producers from around the world gathered to show their wines first to the general public and then to the press and trade. Natural wines go one stage further than organic wines in that not only are the grapes grown without the use of chemicals but also no additives are used during the wine production process.

Eight Georgian wine makers were showing their wines at the fair, including our good friend Eko Glonti (www.lagvinari.com). A Doctor-turned-Geologist-turned-Wine maker, Eko is reviving disused vineyards in Georgia and re-discovering the traditional wine making methods. Despite having only produced wines commercially for the past two or three years, both his red and white are already turning heads: they're already on the menu at Hibiscus and will shortly be impressing diners at The Fat Duck in Bray. His red wine, our particular favourite, is exceptionally fruity and will be ready to buy via his website (see above) around September time.

Alongside the Georgian wine we were able to try incredibly nutty Georgian sunflower oil with superb Georgian breads, plum sauce and meats. Often motivated by good foods, we're planning a visit to Georgia in the autumn to fully appreciate on home soil the foods, wines and, of course, teas for which Georgia should certainly become renowned. 

Travel for Tea

Few things speak to a Brit abroad more than a good cup to tea, so it’s quite a surprise that not every Englishman in the Indian Subcontinent has flocked to the Makaibari tea estate in Darjeeling. Nestled amongst hectares of virgin rainforest in the foothills of the Himalayas, Makaibari was the first tea estate in the world to be given Fair Trade certification and the first in Darjeeling to become 100% organic. What is more, in 2006 Makaibari set the world record price for the most expensive tea ever sold at auction. A tea garden where it is grown, will instantly tell you why. 

Makaibari is run as a business as, inevitably, it has to make money to survive. However, it is also an experiment in environmental and social sustainability, and it is this that sets it apart. Over 30 years of innovations have clearly produced a well-oiled machine, but the estate management, a joint body of predominantly female elected representatives from the workforce, is always keen to test out new ideas. Volunteers, everyone from gap year students to environmental researchers, agriculture experts and followers of the philosopher Rudolf Steiner, are encouraged to come to Makaibari, learn, share their skills, and then to go away and spread the estate’s way of life: a belief in the inter-dependence of everything.

In the neighbouring village of Kurseong there are a number of small hotels, but the best way to get to know the estate it to live there with a family. A proportion of profits from tea sales has been put into equipping and running homestays for volunteers and tourists alike. 21 families, spread through Makaibari’s seven villages, supplement their income by hosting guests at a reasonable rate of $25 per couple per night and including all meals. Each homestay has had a western-style toilet installed, so you’re safe from having to use a squat in the garden in the middle of the night.

Volunteers can get involved with every aspect of estate life. For those with an interest in conservation, tasks range from recording sightings of snow leopards and red pandas, to assessing the extend of bio-diversity in different parts of the estate. A tail-less amphibian, believed to be extinct for over 80 years, was discovered and identified at Makaibari last year, attracting interest from both the local press and CNN. Tree planting is an ongoing activity of vital importance as tree roots hold the soil together in an area otherwise prone to landslips. The tree planting programme seems to be working as Makaibari is the only tea estate in the region that has not suffered from landslides in recent years; elsewhere, as soon as the heavy monsoon rains fall, there are insufficient numbers of deep-rooted plants to prevent the soil from being washed away, taking with it people, their homes and livelihoods.

Women’s empowerment has been at the core of Makaibari’s development strategy from the very beginning. As mentioned previously, the joint management body is dominated by women and, unusually in the tea industry, the estate also employs female supervisors. Each household has been given two cows and access to a bio-gas converter to relieve women of the burden of collecting firewood for cooking, and it also provides them with an additional source of income as they can sell the manure back to the estate as organic fertiliser. Volunteers can help by providing training for would-be entrepreneurs, many of whom already take advantage of Makaibari’s micro credit scheme. Know-how on anything from production methods to computer literacy, book keeping and marketing is invaluable, and the estate’s women are incredibly keen to learn.

Education motivates both workers and their families at Makaibari and is well-supported by the management. A regular cycle of English speaking volunteers are required to teach English in the estate’s schools; regular conversation with a native speaker gives Makaibari’s students a real head start over their peers. Education also takes place outside the classroom. Volunteers recently designed posters and other visual aids explaining the importance of good hygiene in staying healthy and took them around the estate’s villages as a mini, touring exhibition.

Makaibari is 100% organic and has been since the late 1980s. In addition to the cow dung fertiliser, a number of other biodynamic preparations are used in the fields. These include stags’ bladders, cow horns, ground quartz and other natural, if unusual, products. Rudolf Steiner, the philosopher behind biodynamic agriculture, believed that this particular combination of fertilisers, spread on the fields at the right time of the month, would channel cosmic and earthly energy into the roots of the plants, making them stronger and healthier. 

At the end of a long day’s work which, though rewarding, is inevitably tiring, a walk through the estate is a balm for the soul. Dense, lush rainforest adjoins emerald green fields, both of which cling to the mountain precariously. In picking season (approximately March to October), lines of brightly clad women spiral through the fields like flocks of tropical birds, resplendent in pink, yellow and red. In the distance you can see the land fall suddenly away as it meets the dusty plains of northern India, its hazy horizon seemingly a world away from verdant Makaibari.

Spirit healing with the Shamans of Kyrgyzstan

Russian Orthodox churches and small, silver-domed mosques may dominate the skyline in Kyrgyz towns, but the country’s religious heart goes far further back in time. Long before Christ and Muhammad walked the earth, Central Asia’s shamans served as intermediaries between the physical and spiritual worlds, connecting the people to the heavens. 

Shamanists believe that spirits, both good and evil, exist and play important roles within individual lives and wider society. The shaman can communicate with spirits, learning from them and, through gifts or threats, encourage them to change their behaviour. It is for these reasons that the shaman holds a respected position within the community: he (or she) can find solutions to problems plaguing the community, foretell the future, and rid people of the sicknesses caused by the presence of malevolent spirits. 

The deity invoked by shamanists in Central Asia is Tengri – Lord of the Eternal Blue Sky. Tengri and his consort, the mother-earth spirit Eje, together provide everything that a man requires. It is a man’s responsibility to live in harmony with his surroundings, respecting both the earth and the heavens that gave him birth and now sustain him. When his world is thrown off-balance, either through spirit interference or his own misdemeanours, a man must ask the shaman to intercede on his behalf and put his life back on track. 

It is likely Tengriism has been in existence as long as Central Asia has been populated. It evolved in Siberia and Mongolia, which even today is called Munkh Khukh Tengriin Oron (Land of the Eternal Blue Sky) in Mongolian. However, it was not until the arrival of the region’s most infamous son, Genghis Khan, in the twelfth century that shamanist ritual became institutionalized and spread across the Mongol Empire. Tengriism reached as far as Bulgaria in Eastern Europe, where the Danube Bulgars named a local mountain Tangra in his honor. The mountain kept this name as late as the 15^th century. 

Tengriism was no stranger to attack, having fended off revolts and attempts at conversion from the Scythians and Dagestani Huns, as well as Christian and Muslim groups. The greatest threat to its survival, however, was not religious but a political one: communism. 

It is estimated that almost half Kyrgyzstan’s population died or were killed following the country’s take-over by the Soviet Union. Many more people fled over the eastern border to China, or south in to Tajikistan and Afghanistan, taking their traditions with them. Those who did stay were forcefully urbanised, educated according to the Russian model, and began to lose touch with their nomadic heritage. Atheism, basic state health care and the local communist party supplanted what had gone before.  

Tengriism may have gone underground for 70 years, but it certainly did not die. The two decades since independence have seen a public revival not only of the Kyrgyz language, traditional epics and sports, but also of shamanist faith and healing. Leaving the modern capital, Bishkek, behind me, I traveled 17 hours by car deep into the mountains of southern Kyrgyzstan.

A shaman must be in touch with nature and so, although its possible to live in a city, most are found in villages, covered by the shadows of 7000m plus peaks that stretch out to touch the heavens. Almajaan lives on the jailoo (summer pasture) above one such village, surrounded by the wild flowers and herbs that help her in her healing. Like many others, Almajaan did not decide to become a shaman healer: she was called. Pains in her limbs, fatigue, and violent dreams first caused her to seek out spiritual guidance over 40 years ago. Although the afflictions have never entirely gone, she has learned to control the spirits that cause them and to use her skills to help others.

Shaman healers do not advertise, and they do not charge for their services. People seek out a healer based on personal reputation, and give what they can towards their keep if they must stay with the healer for a prolonged period. Aigul, a girl of 14, has been with Almajaan for two weeks. A problem in her joints has led to muscle wastage in her legs and she is having trouble walking. It is both painful and frustrating, not to mention socially debilitating.

Almajaan begins each day with a walk. She climbs from the valley up into the mountains, looking for plants she needs. It is the only time she spends completely alone. By the time she returns to her yurt (felt tent), Aigul is up and waiting for her first of the day’s massages. She lies on the carpeted floor as the healer bends over her body, holds her hands a few inches above the skin, and lets the spirits guide the movement of her fingers. From time to time Aigul winces but Almajaan seems oblivious: she is completely focused on the task in hand. After an hour, Almajaan stops suddenly, straightens and walks outside. The session is complete. 

In the time she has spent with Almajaan, Aigul has gone from virtual paralysis to being able to walk a few steps unaided. She is growing noticeably stronger and, although Almajaan is unsure how long it will take, she is confident Aigul will walk again. The spirits have told her so and the treatment is having the desired effect.

The Creation of the Orient

Does the Orient exist? At first this may appear as stupid a question as asking if there is such a place as China or Japan. However, whereas countries are undoubtedly specific landmasses, the concept of ‘the Orient’ does not fit nearly so neatly onto one particular place. Indeed, it could even be argued that there is no physical place called the Orient at all; Edward Said, author of controversial 1978 book Orientalism, argued that the Orient was a concept held in the West’s collective imagination that helped to quantify unknown cultures and peoples in the East and, by extension, to subjugate colonial subjects. Whilst I agree the Orient exists in collective consciousness, its value is not in its capacity to subjugate but in its attempt to gain understanding, albeit it sometimes partial or misinformed, of others.

In the 18^th century, ‘the Orient’ was used to refer solely to North Africa and the Middle East; India and the Far East were added later. Well into the 20^th century, those who came to study the Orient did so predominantly from a background of Classics and Biblical studies. It is perhaps, therefore, of little surprise that when these early orientalists quantified, codified and described their oriental topics, they did so with reference to what they already knew. Thus, languages such as Sanskrit and Persian were studied in their most archaic forms, enabling comparison with Latin and Greek, Islamic odes were compared the Odyssey and the Iliad, and the main use of learning Arabic was believed to be in understanding biblical Hebrew.

The West’s preoccupation with Classics impacted on nascent studies of the Orient in a number of ways. Firstly, as the cultures of ancient Greece and Rome were seen to represent Europe’s pinnacles of achievement, similar ‘golden ages’ were sought in the ancient past of the Orient. Egypt of the pharaohs and the Achemenid, Assyrian and Sassanid civilizations were consequently of particular interest to early orientalists.

The problems of this approach were two-fold: firstly, study of ancient civilizations and languages was pursued in preference to study of their modern counterparts. The 19^th century Arabist, Reynold Nicholson, was typical of oriental academics in that he was unable to speak either Arabic or Persian, despite teaching both.[1] Secondly, if the summit of a society’s cultural achievement was in some long-forgotten age, it made sense to orientalists that the subsequent period had been one of stagnation or decline. Since the indigenous population had never regained their former glory, or so the argument went, it was the responsibility of orientalists to educate them about their history so that they might be inspired to strive to achieve such heights once again. The exact nature of this ‘golden age’ was to be defined by western philologists, poets, theologians, archaeologists, numismatists etc., regardless of any flaws in their conclusions and, at times, extreme creative license. Colonial powers could take advantage of the orientalists’ work because, they argued, only westerners held the key to knowledge about the past. The guiding, benevolent hand of the all-knowing West was, therefore, in the best interests of the East.

Europe’s obsession with biblical study simultaneously spurred on and restricted the development of oriental studies. The learning of oriental languages, translation of texts and comparative philology certainly benefited from the financial support of the church and the interest of clergyman as, during the 17^th and early 18^th centuries when orientalism was in its infancy, priests were among the small minority of people who were both educated and able to gain access to manuscripts.  The orientalist ‘projects’ of these individuals were numerous but commonly related to the following topics: proving that Hebrew was the primordial language; establishing the authority of Exodus; discrediting the views of the Eastern Orthodox church; and portraying the rise of Islam as both a punishment for the sins of Christians and the downfall of once great civilizations. Pursuing these themes gave scholars exposure to diverse texts and ideas and sparked in some genuine appreciation of oriental literature and art, curiosity about religious practices and theological concepts, research into manners and customs etc.

The trouble with these orientalists’ work was the context of religious bigotry in which they worked. Reliance on church patronage and the general public’s ideas about what was acceptable both influenced which ideas gained currency; indeed, when the Arabist George Sale translated the Qu’ran into English in 1734, even his slightest praise of Islam was thought too favorable and was derided by his colleagues. Far more popular, and therefore more widely circulated, were tracts that derided Islam and portrayed the Prophet as a fraud. Writings often outlined the dichotomy between the supposedly superior, Christian West and the inferior, Islamic East. Every characteristic of the Occident had an opposite in the Orient: rationality contrasted with spirituality, liberal democracy was compared to despotism, and sexual morality was juxtaposed with the erotic sensualism believed to result from polygamy and a penchant for harems. The need to pigeon-hole ideas into this framework of opposites restricted the scope of orientalist ideas in circulation.

The value in orientalists’ ideas is not their accuracy, for they were often flawed, but the influence that they had on creating the idea of a place called ‘the Orient’ in public imagination. The concept clearly sank deep as, despite the fact that few Europeans even now have personal experience of countries considered ‘oriental’, orientalists’ ideas have been incorporated into today’s popular thinking; an association of the East with exoticism, fascination with figures such as Tamerlane, Genghis Khan and Marco Polo, and even a fear of Islam rising on Europe’s doorstep originated or were developed in orientalist writings. The greatest impact of orientalism, therefore, is the instantaneous way in which ‘the Orient’ conjures up a thousand images without the need for further explanation. Whether or not the Orient exists, or indeed has ever existed, as a physical place is irrelevant; ‘the Orient’ as a concept is ingrained in the minds of people across the world, influencing not only how they see others, but how they understand themselves.

---

[1] Irwin, R. For Lust of Knowing: The Orientalists and their Enemies (Penguin: London, 2007) p. 208

Truce with the Taliban: What Price for Peace in Pakistan?

April 13^th 2009 was a dark day for Pakistan. After 18 months of violence in the Swat Valley, the Pakistani government approved a ceasefire agreement that ceded control of the district in the North West Frontier Province (NWFP) to Taliban militants and allowed them to impose Sharia (Islamic law). The inability of the army to control militancy in the region, an estimated thousand civilian deaths from army shelling and Taliban beheadings, and high-profile suicide attacks in Lahore and Islamabad have made both local people and politicians desperate for peace. However, if the government expected Taliban fighters to lay down their arms, they will be sorely disappointed: within hours of the legislation being passed, Taliban militants had raided the neighbouring district of Buner, giving them a foothold just 60 miles from Islamabad. 

The US invasion of Afghanistan in 2001 should have spelled the end for the Taliban, a terrorist group that combined militant Islam with Pashtun tribal codes. However, a variety of factors have enabled Taliban resurgence both sides of the Afghanistan-Pakistan border. Firstly, Al Qaeda sponsored and trained not only Taliban fighters but also those engaged in jihad (holy war) in Kashmir. Keen for a constant supply of militants for this proxy war with India, Pakistan’s army and intelligence services (the ISI) provided refuge to Al Qaeda and Taliban officers fleeing Afghanistan. Rather than handing them over to the US for interrogation, militants were allowed to re-establish their training camps in Pakistan’s tribal areas. They were provided with weapons and finance, and shared intelligence with the ISI. 

America’s failure to reconstruct Afghanistan after the invasion was also to blame in the Taliban’s revival. In 2001, expectations were high that US troops would stay in Afghanistan to help rebuild the country’s infrastructure and state institutions, in particular the police, army and judiciary. When this did not occur and Afghanistan fell instead to warlord control, disillusionment amongst ordinary people was rife. Caught between the warring warlord factions, their corruption and extortion on one side, and the Taliban on the other, many people began to support the Taliban in the belief that they could at least restore law and order. The Taliban was able to offer regular salaries to men in regions with no alternative employment and, in the absence of state-run schools, madrassas often provided the only source of education. 

The influence of Taliban control in NWFP is inevitably felt most by people on the ground. In January 2009 alone, 400 girls’ schools were closed in the Swat Valley. Women have been banned from the markets and public places, music shops and barbers have been closed, and street floggings, one of the most abhorrent images of Taliban-era Afghanistan, have made their reappearance. Perhaps of most concern to the international community is that citizens no longer have the right of appeal to Pakistan’s supreme court; the religious police squads have, in many cases literally, become judge, jury and executioner. 

Taliban resurgence in Pakistan also impacts on the stability of the region as a whole. Suicide attacks and the shift of power within Pakistan threatens the viability of the national government, showing it to be weak and ineffective. This apparent power vacuum offers extreme political parties the opportunity to gain legitimate power in Pakistan through elections. The security situation in Afghanistan cannot improve whilst militants train across the border and travel back and forth freely with the assistance of the ISI. Taliban camps are training militants not only for localised attacks but also for jihad in Kashmir, Uzbekistan and further afield. Suicide attacks in Bali, Madrid, London and Mumbai can all be linked back to groups training under the protection of Al Qaeda and the Taliban within Pakistan.

Perhaps the greatest threat of the Taliban’s rise in Pakistan is not, however, conventional suicide bombings but the possibility of nuclear attack. As early as 1998, bin Laden stated that the acquisition of nuclear weapons was “a religious duty”. He met with Abdul Qadeer Khan, the founder of Pakistan’s nuclear weapons program, prior to 9/11, and in 2004 Khan was found guilty of selling nuclear plans to Libya, Iran and North Korea. The nuclear development programme in Pakistan may theoretically be controlled by the military, but they are either unable or unwilling to prevent the selling of information and technology to the highest bidder. The consequence of losing Pakistan to the Taliban, therefore, is of great concern to us all. 

The solutions to Pakistan’s problems are far from straightforward; they will inevitably be expensive, complicated and take years to achieve measurable success. The first thing needed is substantial, ongoing investment. Whilst the economy fails in Afghanistan or Pakistan, the salaries offered by militant groups will continue to look attractive. Nothing beats poverty as a breeding ground for extremism, and those living in refugee camps along the border among the poorest on earth. Investment in infrastructure projects, especially road building, electricity and water supplies, demonstrates that foreign powers are taking a long-term interest in the region. The Taliban has no capacity or interest in community development, and so by investing in these areas alongside local governments, influence can be gained in the battle for hearts and minds. 

Improved security is also essential for stability. Both during the 1990s and in this latest revival, the Taliban gained ground offering stability; in communities ravished by war, corruption and exploitation, this is a vital card to play. A greater presence of UN personnel on both sides of the border, providing Islamabad can be convinced to co-operate, would stem the flow of militants and raise local confidence. Troop presence musts go hand in hand with ongoing training of both Pakistan and Afghanistan’s armies and their police forces so that they build on their skills and are better able to protect their citizens from militancy. 

Finally, the international community needs to simultaneously put pressure on, and offer support to, the Pakistani government to clamp down on extremism. Constructive dialogue with India must be sold as the only path for Kashmir, economic policy must focus on job creation, and the ISI must be brought under control of parliament so it is accountable. Lastly, Pakistan’s moderate parties need to be built up so that they can offer viable alternatives to the extremists at election time. Winning elections within a democratic system gives militants political legitimacy and enables them to use the institutions of state to further their radical goals. As long as we fail to encourage and support a capable, moderate opposition to give voters genuine choice in elections, we are all complicit in Pakistan’s truce with the Taliban.

Timeline

December 2001 US declares victory over Taliban in Afghanistan.

September 2007 Fighting begins in Swat Valley between Taliban militants and the Pakistani army

September 2008 Suicide bombing kills 54 at the Marriott hotel in Islamabad

December 2008 Swat Valley captured by the Taliban

January 2009 Taliban closes 400 schools for girls in the Swat Valley

March 2009 Militants attacks in Lahore and Islamabad

April 2009 Parliament approves ceding control of Swat Valley to Taliban; Taliban militants move into Buner.

This article originally appeared in the Taboo issue of Asian Geographic (www.asiangeo.com)

The Mughals at Home: Architecture and Imperial Ideology in the Indian Subcontinent

What links Bill Gates and the Indian ruler, Akbar the Great? Put simply, whilst the first is the leading mogul of today, the Mughal ruler Akbar, with his expansive, wealthy empire and monopoly on power, gave later moguls their name. The Mughal kings ruled an empire that stretched from Afghanistan to Bengal. They first came to power in the 16^th century and their golden age ended with the death of Emperor Aurangzeb in 1707. The Mughals’ familial lands were in Fergana (now in Kyrgyzstan) and so they had no direct claim to the empire they forged; their conquests in the Subcontinent began only after attempts to control Samarkhand had been thwarted.

The Mughal emperors held court in five cities: Kabul in Afghanistan, Lahore in Pakistan, and Delhi, Agra and Fatehpur Sikri in India. These cities’ buildings were designed to be physical manifestations of the Mughals’ power over landscape and subjects alike, deliberately espousing through their structures the Mughals’ imperial ideology. Genuine connoisseurship ran hand in hand with clever propaganda, reminding us of the Mughal emperors’ innovative techniques for drawing together under one crown  the diverse peoples of the Indian Subcontinent.

The Mughals were patrilineal descendants of the Central Asian ruler Amir Timur. They believed that their right to rule the subcontinent derived both from Timur’s 14^th century conquests and their own military gains. The Mughals’ Timurid heritage influenced their architectural style in a number of ways. Like their ancestors, the early Mughals were constantly on campaign so a peripatetic court was in order. Courtyards and walled gardens were favoured as tented cities could be erected within their confines. The entire imperial household moved en-masse around the country so that no part of the imperial structure was left vulnerable to seizure.  

The first Mughal emperor, Babur (r.1526-30), deplored India, describing it in the Baburnama as “charmless and disorderly”. Attempting to recreate his beloved gardens in Kabul, one of his first acts was to construct a walled garden in Agra. The garden gave Babur peace of mind as he was able to demonstrate his capacity to establish order in a seemingly wild and uncivilized land. Mughal gardens were designed to evoke the Garden of Paradise described in the Old Testament and in the Koran. Areas within the garden were divided by paved walkways, fruit trees provided shade and sustenance, and fountains were filled with water.

The Timurids’ other major contribution to Mughal architecture was invocations of the legendary King Solomon. In Delhi and Agra, the Mughals constructed multi-columned halls reminiscent of Solomon’s, and the image of Solomon’s throne, which the Bible describes as being multi-stepped and carved with numerous mechanical birds and beasts, was replicated by the Mughals. Emperors Jahangir (r.1605-27) and Shah Jahan (r.1628-58) constructed their own throne of Solomon, invoking his memory through emulation of his court so that subjects would equate Solomon’s just rule with that of their own Mughal monarch.

The majority of Mughal subjects were, unlike their rulers, non-Muslim and had little previous connection with the Timurids. In order to ensure the long term survival of their empire, the Mughals had to integrate the indigenous elite, show religious tolerance towards the wider populace, and to portray their right to rule as absolute. 

Akbar the Great (r.1556-1605) brought nobles and local rulers from across his empire to court and gave them posts within the administration. They included Persian nobles, Rajput princes, and other Muslim rulers with whom he wished to form alliances. Akbar created a strict hierarchy where everyone was ultimately answerable to him. He developed elaborate court rituals, necessitating the construction of separate audience halls for public and private affairs, a multitude of courtyards, and wide, straight streets for processions of elephants and horses. 

In Hindu kingdoms,  it was believed that devotees were blessed by the mere sight of religious idols and monarchs. The Mughals adopted darshan (‘viewing’) and appeared on ornate balconies before crowds gathered in the courtyard below. The position of the balcony was reminiscent of the qibla in a mosque, so the emperor was able to draw simultaneously on both Hindu and Muslim religious traditions in his self-deification. The scope of Akbar’s religious appeal widened further when he constructed the debating hall at Fatehpur Sikri. The building was designed as a multi-faith meeting place where all religious leaders could meet to discuss theological matters. Symbols representing each religion were incorporated into the hall’s stonework. Akbar believed himself to be an intermediary between men and God, and clear demonstration of his understanding of all different theological doctrines was integral to this.

The reputation of the Mughal court attracted influential visitors from across the globe. Travelers, traders, physicians and missionaries were entranced by the Mughals’ legendary wealth and brought with them knowledge and customs from Europe, Persia and China. Among the most important gifts from Europe was an illustrated copy of the 1569 Polyglot Bible and engravings of biblical scenes. They were presented to Akbar by Jesuit missionaries in an attempt to convert him to Christianity.

The Jesuits’ gifts engendered in the Mughals a taste for western art. Inspired by European works, Mughal artists began to incorporate images of Christ and Mary in their wall paintings, carvings and manuscripts. Symbols such as the halo, the lion and the lamb, the globe and the hour glass all made their way into Mughal design to show both the emperors’ religious legitimacy but also their temporal power. Use of Christian iconography demonstrated the emperors’ semi-divine status, their cosmopolitanism, and their ability to subordinate Christian Europe beneath their imperial power and personal religion.

Mughal capitals were reflected the change in priority from military conquest to the stable governance of a diverse population. Whilst early capitals required outdoor space for tents, later architects replaced these designs with permanent, highly decorative structures for courtly ceremonies. The Mughals’ Timurid heritage merged with indigenous traditions to deify the emperor in the minds of his subjects and to give him political and cultural legitimacy. Christian iconography was manipulated by Mughal artists, gaining political connotations that further enhanced state propaganda of the divine emperor and his inalienable right to rule. 

If you are interested in Mughal political ideology and art, please check out my E-book http://www.amazon.co.uk/Painting-Development-Portraiture-1526-1707-ebook/dp/B005CJLAOO/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1334337521&sr=8-1

How to Snare your Wife: Bride Snatching in Kyrgyzstan.

In the bottom of a valley, beneath a seemingly endless sky, a girl of 16 streaks across the landscape on horseback, her long black pigtails flying out behind her. Hot on her heels, sweat pouring down his face as he spurs his horse on, is her hunter. Onlookers hold their breath, hardly daring to look, and their cries crescendo as the young man begins to gain on his prize. Whatever she does she cannot break free – he is stronger, faster and very, very determined. 

The competing pair are adrenalin-fuelled and delighted to be showing off their horsemanship before so many enthusiastic spectators. Their game of kyz kuumai (kiss the bride) is just a piece of fun, a hark back to Kyrgyzstan’s nomadic past and the tradition of kidnapping goats and women from neighboring clans. If the boy catches the girl he is entitled to kiss her passionately but, if he fails, she will turn around and whip him soundly for his failings.

Despite the frivolity, however,  not everyone in the crowd is amused. For some, this is not only a  game but a painful reminder of a rudely interrupted adolescence or the sudden loss of a daughter, and a harsh reality that still stalks parts of Kyrgyzstan today.

A 2007 survey found that approximately half of all marriages in Kyrgyzstan involved bride-napping, two thirds of which were non-consensual.  The groom may be undesirable, in which case a bride-napping is the easiest way to find him a wife, and his friends and family may jointly abduct a stranger on his behalf. If the girl they are after is not home when the abductors arrive, a younger sister or cousin may be taken in her stead. 

In other circumstances, the bride and groom’s parents may arrange a marriage between their two families. If the girl does not consent, she can be bride-napped and held (hospitably) hostage until she is convinced of the virtues of her in-laws, or simply becomes resigned to her fate. The social stigma attached to walking away, even from a forced marriage, is strong as a girl’s honor is considered disgraced; girls and their families are compelled to accept the match.  School girls fear the pounding of hooves or, as is more often the case in 2012, the sudden appearance of a white Lada car pulling up alongside them on the curbside. 

Despite increasing westernization in Kyrgyzstan, incidences of bride snatching show no signs of decline: what is starting slowly to change is the expectation of consent. Economic hardship makes paying the customary kalym (bride price) difficult, and weddings are elaborate and expensive affairs, with families often bankrupting themselves to pay the bills. To circumvent the expenditure, young brides and grooms are now arranging the snatching themselves, turning a terrifying tradition into a socially acceptable form of elopement. Brides may even be forewarned by their suitors when and where to expect their abduction. Text messaging is the preferred medium! Bride-napping is also a convenient way to bypass familial approval: by the time parents are able to voice discontent at the match, the couple are already married and safely out of reach.  

Bride-napping is not unique to Kyrgyzstan but it is deeply entwined with the local culture, society and economic situation. Although abhorrent in its most violent forms, the gradual evolution towards mutually-consenting abduction reveals that it is not a black and white issue: for some young couples it is a cheap, easy and desirable stepping stone to marriage. Viewers of Sacha Baren Coen’s film, Borat, may cringe in horror at the protagonist’s attempt to capture Pamela Anderson in his ‘wedding sack’, but the incident does ably demonstrate the fine, and often culturally defined, line between social acceptability and criminality.

Living the high life in Abu Dhabi and Dubai

The United Arab Emirates is a country of superlatives: everything has to be bigger, better and faster than anywhere else. Dubai and Abu Dhabi drip wealth from every angle, and if you have a little something to spend, there’s no more exciting place to do it. The world’s tallest building, man-made islands, snow in the desert, shopping and restaurants par excellence, and a striking natural environment are just a few of the features that pull in vast international crowds and keep them coming back for more.

 As late as the 1960s, the territories now belonging to the UAE were little more than desert. Pearl fishing was the principal industry, but even that was fading. And then they struck gold: black gold. In less than half a century, Abu Dhabi and Dubai have gone from being provincial backwaters to two of the wealthiest cities on the planet: their wealth has put them on the map, and evidence of that wealth is everywhere.  

The UAE is undoubtedly an assault on the senses and, for tourists at least, that necessitates being selective about what you see and do. The three structures known as the Burj Khalifa, The Palm Jumeirah and the Sheikh Zayed Mosque provide insight into the country’s core (if on the surface incompatible) values of innovation, indulgence, and faith, and consequently they’re great places to start.

The Burj Khalifa (www.burjkhalifa.ae) is perhaps better known as the world’s tallest building. Standing 829.84 m tall it is a masterpiece of engineering and a tasteful addition to Dubai’s skyline. Floors in the building went up at a rate of one every three days, the structure cost US $1.5 billion, and four men have even BASE jumped from the tower. It took 90 seconds to reach the ground. Visitors less inclined to suicide can speed to the top at 18m/sec in one of the 57 elevators, get a birds-eye view of the city from the outdoor observation deck (452m), or simply keep their feet on the ground and crane their necks to the sky whilst soaking up the ambience created by the photogenic Dubai Fountain.

Down on the coast, The Palm Jumeirah (www.palmjumeirah.ae) is an artificial archipelago stuffed with luxury hotels and villas. Atlantis is the beating heart of The Palm: beaches, pools and spas compete for attention with a 42-acre water park, dive centre and an 11.5 million litre aquarium with 65,000 fish. Meandering amongst the attractions you’ll also find outlets from the likes of Porsche, Tiffany & Co. and Cartier, whilst award-winning Nobu (www.noburestaurants.com/dubai) and other fine-dining options will keep you well-fed into the early hours.

120km away in Abu Dhabi, richest city on earth, the magnificent Sheikh Zayed Mosque (www.szgmc.ae/en) offers a temporary diversion from ostentatious consumerism. Zayed was the founding father of the UAE, and the mosque carrying his name can house more than 40,000 worshippers. With domes reminiscent of the Taj Mahal, the white marble walls and minarets are inlaid with gold, semi-precious stones and crystal. The mosque is as impressive by night as by day, and non-Muslims are welcome to visit on a guided tour as long as they are respectful and properly attired.

For the less sedate, the UAE has plenty to keep even the most dependent adrenalin junkie entertained. Despite the soaring summer temperatures, it is cool year round at Ski Dubai (www.skidxb.com), the first indoor ski resort in the Middle East, and the Olympic-sized Dubai Ice Rink in Dubai Mall (www.dubaiicerink.com). The latter hosts the annual Emirates Hockey League Cup and you can catch ice hockey matches there throughout the season.

Out of the cities the biggest attractions are somewhat sandy: camel safaris for wannabe Lawrence of Arabias, and dune bashing (or surfing) for lovers of speed.   The most popular destination for both these activities are in Abu Dhabi’s empty quarter – the Liwa Desert – and the area surrounding the picturesque Fossil Rock (AKA Camel Rock) in Dubai.

Bedouin still consider camels to be the Rolls Royces of the desert, even if Toyota Land Cruisers have now largely usurped them for long journeys across the sands.  Visitors dipping their toe in the proverbial water can ride for a few hours, taking a break for a traditional Arab meal, whilst the more determined can avail themselves of the variety of over-night camel safari packages. Accommodation is in luxury tents under the stars, and evening entertainment (a distraction from your saddle sores) includes belly dancing, henna painting and local music, enjoyed with an accompanying sheesha pipe. A night in the desert is your best chance to step back in time and experience Emirati life as it was before the oil came.

Today’s Emiratis have two loves: the desert and the car. Get used to seeing super cars shooting along the highways, and an impressive line-up of brand new Lamborghinis, Porsches and Maybachs outside every major hotel and restaurant. If you want to get behind the wheel in the desert, however, a Toyota Land Cruiser is the popular choice: it’s less likely to get stuck in the sand. A half day of dune bashing will set you back US $40-60 per person, and the exhilaration pulses from every part of your body as you race and slide through the desert. Most tour companies will take you into the desert as part of a group, and you follow a pre-determined circuit enabling you to try a variety of stunts without getting lost. Dune bashing should not be attempted in a standard vehicle: a roll cage is an essential modification that could save your life in the event of a roll over.

Back in the cities, there is plenty to do whilst you recover from the adrenalin hit and inevitable bruising. Keeping with the car theme, Ferrari World (www.ferrariworldabudhabi.com) is a stone’s throw from the Yas Marina Grand Prix circuit (www.yasmarinacircuit.com). The largest indoor amusement park in the world, Ferrari World covers 200,000 sqm and is home to the world’s fastest rollercoaster: Formula Rossa. Inside the building, which is modelled after the side profile of a Ferrari GT, you’ll find a gallery of Ferraris, a virtual tour inside the Ferrari factory, and a junior racing school with child-sized Ferrari F1 cars. Adults can enjoy state-of-the-art racing simulators, an interactive 3D show following the life of Ferrari engineers, and recreations of the skylines of famous Italian cities. Petrol heads in Dubai should check out Kartdrome at the Duabi Autodrome (www.dubaiautodrome.com/arrive-drive-2/) where you can fulfil your dreams as a racing driver for the day.

Abu Dhabi is already well on its way to becoming the cultural heart of the UAE and, in time, a global centre for the arts. The construction of Saadiyat Island (www.saadiyat.ae), 500m off the coast of Abu Dhabi, is already well under way. The Zayed National Museum, designed by Foster and Partners and developed with the expertise of the British Museum, will be the first major museum site to open on the island, followed swiftly by branches of the Louvre (due 2013) and the Guggenheim (due 2014). In the meantime, the Saadiyat Beach Golf Club is already up and running, with spectacular views across the Arabian Gulf.

Culture vultures in Dubai will not be disappointed either. The Art Bus (www.artinthecity.com) runs between museums, galleries and studios throughout the city during major art festivals and exhibitions. Many of these are located in Bastakiya (Old Dubai), where you can also find the Al Fahidi Fort. The mud fort was built in 1787 (making it the oldest building still standing in Dubai) and it now houses Dubai Museum. Life-size dioramas show various aspects of Emirati life, including recreations of a date farm, a Bedouin tent and pearl fishing, and there are also archaeological finds dating back to around 3000 BC.

Near to the fort is the Majlis Gallery (www.themajlisgallery.com), a traditional Arabic house with original wind towers that keep it cool. Whitewashed rooms around a large, open courtyard display temporary exhibitions by contemporary artists, and there are also high-quality artisanal works on sale: the handmade glass, fabrics and pottery are particularly good. Art lovers should also make time to check out the Meem Gallery (www.meem.ae) which features work from modern and contemporary Middle Eastern artists and is home to the Noor Library of Islamic Art, and the Mojo Gallery (www.themojogallery.com) with its focus on conceptual and digital arts. Mojo holds regular public workshops if you have an artistic flair.  

No visit to Dubai would be complete without a trip to the shops. The winter Dubai Shopping Festival (www.dubaishoppingfestival.com) and Dubai Summer Surprises (www.dubaievents.ae) are the best times to grab a bargain as many stores heavily discount their stock, but expect the malls to be packed. The undoubted queen of malls is Dubai Mall (www.thedubaimall.com), a veritable labyrinth of luxury brands, more affordable brands, restaurants and entertainment venues. The centrepiece of the mall (and an excellent place to leave children and husbands whilst you browse) is Dubai Aquarium. Shoppers can gawp at more than 33,000 fish and marine animals (including giant piranhas, catfish, otters and penguins), walk through the underwater viewing tunnel and, if so inclined, even take a dip in the tank.  

If the mere thought of the malls send you into a cold sweat but you still want to take home a few souvenirs, head into one of Dubai’s many markets and souks. Gold, spice and textile souks still line Dubai Creek and, when combined with a river ride in an historic dhow, offer a glimpse into a whole new side of the city. Gold and precious stones are sold by weight and quality but you’ll have to haggle hard if you want a bargain price. There is greater flexibility on the price of fabrics, particularly around Eid, but make sure you compare the quality and prices across a number of shops. If you fancy a tailor-made suit and have a few days to wait, this is also the place to come.

When night falls, the UAE wakes up and both Emiratis and expats come out to play. Malls and restaurants are open into the early hours, and bars and clubs rarely open before midnight. Alcohol is illegal for locals but available to foreigners providing they are over 21. Time Out (www.timeoutdubai.com) and the local media both advertise the latest hotpots and the constant stream of performances by international DJs, rock stars and pop starlets.  Celebrity guests can be spotted at new bar Cirque du Soir (www.cirquedusoir.com), where a cast of circus performers make for a glitzy and theatrical evening. Equally showy is the Ibiza-esque poolside Ikandy Bar (Sheikh Zayed Road) with its palm trees and perma-tanned guests and, for those slightly more sophisticated media types, Z:One (Dubai Media City) is a popular choice.

The UAE never sleeps, and neither do many of its guests. Whether you choose to spend your time on the beach, in the mall, or surrounded by shifting desert sands, you’ll have no trouble filling your days.  In a week in Dubai you can eat better, do more, sleep more luxuriantly and party harder than almost anywhere else on earth, providing the credit card keeps working. You may, however, need a break to get over the holiday.

PRACTICALITIES SIDEBAR

Getting there and around

Dubai is one of the best-connected airports in the world, so getting to the UAE is a breeze. Emirates flies direct to both Singapore (SGD 1290 return inc. taxes) and Hong Kong (SGD 1200 return inc. taxes) and Singaporean, Hong Kong and Malaysian nationals (amongst others) can get a visa on arrival for AED 100 (SGD 35).

Road infrastructure within the UAE is excellent, though the level of traffic can be a little unnerving for first-time visitors.  Car hire companies require tourists to have an international license and a valid credit card, and self-drive is undoubtedly the best way to travel on longer journeys. In the cities, taxis are reasonably priced (though not a give-away), buses are frequent and well-maintained, and Dubai has an excellent metro system. Public transport is cheap, safe and well-used by residents and visitors alike.

When to go

The UAE burns throughout July and August, with temperatures well above 40 Celsius. The air conditioning is effective and some hotels offer bargain prices, but even stepping outside is an exhausting experience and the desert is virtually a no-go area. The rest of the year sees pleasant temperatures, clear skies and little rain.

Shopaholics are drawn to the bargains on sale during Dubai Shopping Festival (5 January – 5 February 2012), camel and date festivals draw guests from across the Gulf in the winter months, and the Grand Prix at the Yas Marina circuit is the highlight of the sporting calendar.

Where to stay

The UAE has a hotel for every budget, but certainly favours the lavish. Atlantis the Palm (www.atlantisthepalm.com) and the Burj al Arab (www.jumeirah.com) are the biggest, flashiest names in Dubai, whilst the Desert Islands and Qasr al Sarab Desert Resorts (both www.anantara.com) pack a punch among the dunes of Abu Dhabi.

Mid-range options in downtown Dubai include the Rose Rayhaan on iconic Sheikh Zayed Road and the Amwaj Rotana at Jumeirah Beach (both www.rotana.com), and comfortable budget choices include the numerous Hotel Ibis in Dubai (www.ibishotel.com), the Mercure Centre Hotel in Abu Dhabi (www.accorhotels.com), and the Sharjah Rotana in Sharjah (also www.rotana.com).

Where to eat

Emirati cuisine is a fabulous fusion of global flavours: biryani may be the national dish but the Gulf also provides fantastic seafood, dried fruits and nuts, and wonderfully rich lamb dishes. Al Dahleez (Al Boom Tourist Village) and Al Hadheerah (Bab Al Shams Desert Resort) are famous for their Emirati dishes, Al Mahara (Burj al Arab) and Aquara (Dubai Marina Yacht Club) serve up wonderfully fresh fish, and the award-winning cakes and cappuccinos in Abu Dhabi’s Zyara (Madinat Zayed) are a must for a mid-afternoon repast.

Useful websites

www.timeoutdubai.com What’s on guide to Dubai

www.timeoutabudhabi.com What’s on guide to Abu Dhabi

www.uaeinteract.com News and information about the UAE

www.definitelydubai.com Tourism portal

www.abudhabitourism.ae