Pakistan's valley of wine

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The Kalash people celebrate their annual Joshi (spring) festival with dancing and wine

A liberal outlook and festivals where social norms are turned upside down set the Kalash people of north-western Pakistan apart from the rest of the country. But their culture is under threat as Nosheen Abbas found out.

"I don't go to the festival any more - I think it is wrong and according to Islam it is not good”

Muhammad Kalash convert

• The free women of Kalash

Entering the Rumbur valley, Pakistan, with all of its violence and militancy, felt like it was left behind. No electricity, phone signals or newspaper stands are to be found in the village of Balanguru, precarious and beautiful, perched between mountains.

Preparations for the Joshi (spring) festival were well under way when I visited: women and men were sitting chatting together, brewing the wine to be drunk, stitching colourful outfits, and on the eve of the celebrations, beating a drum late into the night while dancing.
"Parents don't let their small children drink, but by 13 or 14 you can start drinking here," said Jamrat, one young Kalashi, while another 18-year-old girl was too drunk on festival eve to give an interview.

Kalash Valley

• Kalash has a population of about 6,500
• The Kalash people migrated from current-day Afghanistan in the 2nd Century BC
• Some historians believe they are descendants of Alexander the Great's soldiers
• The Kalash worship ancestors, as well as 12 gods and goddesses
• They celebrate four major festivals connected with the seasons and the farming year
• Many Kalash women still choose to wear the ornate and colourful traditional dress

Estranged people

This is far removed from ordinary Pakistani life where most people adhere to an Islamic code, shunning drink and dance. The Kalash, on the other hand, worship their own gods.

Pakistanis would view Kalash culture with disapproval but nevertheless many, mostly men, still flock to the valleys from around the country to experience the liberation the festival offers.
The Kalash use the blanket term "Punjabi" for the Pakistani men who suddenly show up in the village staring at women, trying to "chat them up", and making many feel uncomfortable.They do not consider themselves Pakistani. In fact, they call anybody from elsewhere in the country "Pakistani" - as if it that term would not cover themselves as well.
But it was in the heady mix of the festival that the first clues appeared about the pressures the outside world is beginning to exert upon this society.

Security was heightened in the valleys - a sign that Pakistan's problems can intrude upon even the most isolated communities. A walk-through security gate looked out of place at the foot of the mountain before a winding staircase that led to the heart of the festival.
Here euphoric Kalash people were dancing and singing and there was a distinct whiff of marijuana in the air. There was a small and unconvincing hand-written sign hanging somewhere, warning spectators that drinking was not allowed.
Militant threat All the while, the anti-terrorist squad was scattered across the valleys. Every few steps, stood an upright man in uniform, holding a gun to his chest. And new rules dictate that each foreigner visiting the area must have their own security guard.
"It's ridiculous," says Shane Brady, an Irish tourist. "The police were first being put up in our room, then when we refused, they slept right outside our room."
Saifullah Jan, the owner of a local guest house in Balanguru, feels strongly about it too.
"The police are a hassle here. It's ruining tourism," he says.
Foreign visitors are supposed to pay for their guards' food and accommodation, he adds. When they refuse, supporting the guards becomes a burden for the locals.

“They tell us we'll go to heaven and it's the right path if we convert - but I've told them that it is all up to God” 

Jawad

Ever since the Taliban kidnapped a Greek man in 2009 who had been living and teaching in the Bumburet valley, security has been heightened. And in a country where minorities are increasingly attacked, the authorities are taking extra measures.

Since the kidnapping, people living in the valley have had to be more alert, says one of them, Ishfaq Ahmed. "I don't know if I can call it afraid, because no Kalash will ever leave."
But, he adds, people are aware of the constant underlying threat. He recalls an incident when militants from Nuristan in neighbouring Afghanistan kidnapped six labourers; four were killed and the pictures of their dead bodies released. The other two were set free.
An intelligence agent, who wished to remain unnamed, was also present at the festival - he said the Taliban had been a threat for the last two or three years.

Security guards were visible everywhere during the festival

Love and conversion At the foot of the entrance to the festival in Rumbur was a mosque, which was in the village next to Balanguru. The increasing rate of conversion to Islam is yet another sign that Kalashi culture risks being eroded. A young man with a kind face, a beard and skull-cap stood nearby.
"I don't go to the festival anymore. I think it is wrong and according to Islam it is not good," Muhammad, a converted Kalash, told me.
In the Bumburet valley, Sunni Muslims are now a majority. According to Ishfaq Ahmed, Muslims and Kalash co-exist peacefully.
"It's a brotherly relationship and Muslims are OK with their festivals." But, he says, "there are some who don't like the Kalash and tell Muslims not to attend the festivals."

"The younger generation is not into the traditions”

Luke Rehmat

Love and marriage appear to dictate the ebb and flow of conversion. Jawad, a sharp and smiling 21-year-old, told me how while studying in the city of Faisalabad in Punjab province he fell in love with a local girl but was unable to marry her because he refused to convert to Islam. He says he was approached numerous times by evangelical groups trying to push him to convert.

"They tell us we'll go to heaven and it's the right path if we convert. But I've told them that it is all up to God whether I convert or not."
One girl told me that more Kalash girls convert, and it generally happens when they get married. For Luke Rehmat the main reasons Kalash convert is the expense of their culture: funerals are expensive, and although weddings are not, traditional clothes are also pricey. These factors may yet prove a defining force for the future of Kalash identity.
The festival does succeed in creating a sense of pride around the valley in the unique atmosphere of liberation and relaxation. Boys and girls openly spend carefree time together, joking and laughing.

Many warn that the younger generations are not interested in Kalash traditions

Many of the children performed a ritual at their local temple on the night before the festival began. As old women made walnut bread and men adjusted the traditional coloured feathers for their caps, all that was unique and enchanting about Kalash culture was on display for the gathered visitors.
But many people reminded me that some traditions had already disappeared. And one Kalash resident, Luke Rehmat, sounded a further note of warning.
"The younger generation is not into the traditions," Mr Rehmat said. "They don't want to learn songs and take part."

http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/world-south-asia-13466250

Article in the FINANCIAL TIMES on the ETHNIC IDENTITY in FYROM

Renovation inflames Macedonian identity row
By Neil MacDonald
Published: September 3 2010

...In the main square of Skopje’s city centre, Goce Delcev and Dame Gruev sit astride their horses, gazing down at pedestrians 5 metres below. The 19th-century freedom fighters, cast in bronze in Italy arrived four months ago in the first wave of an expensive renewal project for the Macedonian capital.

“If Gruev were alive today, he would be proud to see that we Macedonians are still here,” said a man visiting from another part of the country. “By God, my blood pressure must have dropped from 200 to 100 when I saw these.”

EDITOR’S CHOICE
Audio slideshow: Building ethnic identity in Macedonia - Sep-03.Opinion: Bring the Balkans back into the heart of Europe - Jul-27.Balkan disputes simmer under surface - Jun-02.Macedonia’s Ivanov poised for election win - Apr-05.Poll gives Macedonia chance to impress EU - Mar-21.Alexander’s ‘descendants’ boost Macedonian identity - Jul-18..The urban overhaul, complete with Ionic columns on government buildings, forms Skopje’s most permanent reply yet to the 19-year-old argument with Greece over who owns the name Macedonia.

The 17 planned monuments, costing €10m ($12.8m, £8.3m) by conservative estimates, are part of a wider urban plan with a price tag of €80m or more – a large sum for a small country struggling to climb out of recession.

Yet fallout from the global crisis is just one of the setbacks for the former Yugoslav republic in the past two and a half years.

Skopje was poised to join Nato in April 2008, along with Croatia and Albania. But Greece, with a northern province also called Macedonia, vetoed its neighbour’s membership under the same name. The centre-right prime minister, Nikola Gruevski, has responded by proclaiming the Macedonian ethnic identity even more loudly.

Greece could block Macedonia from joining the European Union. While Washington and Brussels see the 19-year-old “name dispute” as obscure and tiresome, those involved tend to see it as a take-no-prisoners battle over identity, including ownership of the legacy of a classical hero, Alexander the Great.

To stake its claim, Skopje is building a colossal statue of Alexander. Costing more than €3m, it will tower 22 metres – the equivalent of eight storeys – over the city’s central square, according to officials. There are also plans for new government buildings, a refurbished theatre and a library. Vladimir Todorovic, mayor of the city’s central district, says Skopje needs to replace the “ugly or plain communist architecture” that has predominated since an earthquake in 1963.

Although there are some supporters of the building spree, they are a minority of the Balkan country’s 2m inhabitants. Nearly two-thirds oppose the “Skopje 2014” renewal project, mainly for financial reasons, according to polls by the US National Democratic Institute.

Critics have derided the project as “kitsch”, and warned that the final bill would be closer to €200m. The government’s refusal to publish the cost of Skopje 2014 has only added to speculation about overruns.

“There has been no consensus and no public debate,” says Erwan Fouéré, EU special representative in Skopje. “We would have liked to see greater consultation of the public on such a broad, sweeping urban renewal plan for the capital city, especially since public money is involved.”

The Macedonian economy shrank 0.7 per cent last year, with gross domestic product at about $9.2bn, according to official figures.

Critics have ridiculed the statue scheme through anti-Skopje 2014 websites. Mr Gruevski’s coalition allies have also expressed reservations over upgrades of roads and schools on hold for the project.

“I personally agree with those who have made this criticism,” says Fatmir Besimi, minister of economy and ethnic Albanian party member. “The country has needs for infrastructure. If we spend money from the budget, it should have higher multiplier effects.”

Statues are an odd priority during a period of tighter budgets and rising poverty, foreign observers agree. “This is happening while many schools lack flushable toilets,” a western diplomat says.

But the treasury is under control of Mr Gruevski’s party. Zoran Stavreski, minister of finance, declines to answer questions on Skopje 2014.

Another risk, US and EU officials say, is to inflame ethnic tensions, already at their worst since the brief ethnic Albanian insurgency of 2001.

Ethnic Albanians, accounting for perhaps a quarter of the population, have accepted the Macedonian state only in the expectation of Nato and EU integration. They do not buy into the state-sponsored national identity. National heroes for minority groups have been added to the statue programme but only as an afterthought, critics say.

Nor do all Macedonian patriots feel attached to Alexander the Great.

Ljubco Georgievski, a hardliner who split from the ruling party, says: “We have a good 100 years of history to talk about”, starting with resistance against the Ottoman Empire. “Why do we have to claim to be the oldest nation in Europe?”