Wednesday, December 28, 2016

Fear the wrath of God

Fear the wrath of God
What do women seeking abortions, homosexuals in the US military, the animistic tribe of the Pakistani Kalash, and Christmas celebrating, non-vegetarians have in common?
Apparently, God hates them and so we all have to put up with terrorists, strong winds and the earth splitting wide open.
“Look what the Kalash have done now”
In the wake of November’s 7.5 magnitude earthquake, a tragedy that left over 390 people dead, Pakistanis have descended into their favourite game; the blame game.
It’s a familiar, age-old phenomenon. The wrath of God has been a sound explanation for the cruel, unusual, confusing and tragic since the inception of religion, and, perhaps, humankind. In the aftermath of tragedy, our coalition of reasoning has a total breakdown. We remember we are conquerable, mere mortals and this terrifies us, leaving us with few answers and many fears.
And so, we turn on each other.
After 9/11 an American pastor proposed that the terror acts happened because God was angry with Americans over abortions.
In 2005, in the wake of Hurricane Katrina, one of five deadliest hurricanes in American history, a televangelist observed God had let it happen because of America’s descent into immorality. According to him the natural disaster was proof that the “judgment of America (had) begun”. The same year, a Buddhist monk blamed the Indian Ocean earthquake-generated tsunamis on the Christians. According to the monk, the natural disaster had taken place the day after Christmas because too many Christians had slaughtered animals and consumed their meat for the holiday.
Following the 2010 Haiti earthquake in which 316,000 lives were lost, a prominent rabbi reasoned that God Almighty was obviously sending a message to the gays in the US military. In 2011 the State of Virginia was struck by an earthquake, which took no lives but caused $300 million dollars in damage. The same rabbi again pinpointed homosexuality as the cause. This time he was a tad bit more diplomatic by specifically asking the “gays not to take it personally (because) this is just God doing what God does”.
The Blame Game
In Pakistan, we like to rotate the scapegoats of our blame game.
Some of the favourite contestants favoured by Pakistani conspiracy theorists are (in no particular order) the Indians, Amreekis (Americans), religious fundamentalists, or, as seen in the recent case following this year’s earthquake, the Kalash ‘kafirs’ infiltrating Pakistan who – despite being a minority of 3,500 in a country of 182 million – are apparently capable of bringing forth the scourge of God.
Or, I don’t know, maybe, there was an earthquake because of an immense build-up of geologic pressure at a subduction zone between two colliding tectonic plates or whatever.
The average reader may not even know who or what a Kalash is.
After all, they are fairly confined to their tribal lifestyle centred in the northern valleys of Pakistan. Plus, there’s only like, 3,500 of them and Pakistan’s a fairly populated place so – unless you’ve snuck up to the mountains for mini-Las Vegas style getaway with booze, beautiful women, and dancing – chances are you don’t actually know a real life Kalash outside of Google Images.
The Kalasha are Pakistan’s smallest non-Muslim community. They reside primarily in the Chitral District of Khyber-Pakhtunkhwa(K-P). They are polytheists and nature is a big part of their spiritual and daily life. A recent DNA analysis has confirmed the Kalashas are likely descendants of Alexander the Great’s soldiers. Their laws are highly unique compared to the rest of Pakistan, which is predominantly governed by a combination of Shariah and British common law. Alcohol is not forbidden to them. Divorce is easy enough for Kalasha women looking to change spouses. They must simply write a letter to the prospective new spouse offering herself in marriage and ask that the prospective purchase her at a higher price than the current spouse. Gender segregation is not a part of the daily life of the Kalash. Neither is veiling.
The Kalash are a unique and fascinating people. They are capable of many things. They make their own wine (known as tara), their own recreational drugs (nazar, an opiate-based chewing tobacco is a favourite), they have their own music and even their own set of laws (meaning they are outside the ambit of Shariah law which controls the rest of us Pakistanis).
What the Kalash are not capable of is singlehandedly inviting the wrath of any particular deity or God. And they certainly do not have control of the three colliding tectonic plates (Indian, Eurasian and Arabian) that Pakistan sits on top of and frequently is destroyed by.
Divine Intervention not Divine Retribution
Natural disasters are disruptive. And with this physical disruption comes the disruption of people’s worldviews. The weak, vulnerable and scared are the perfect target for theological institutions looking to win new believers. Combine a vulnerable population with the double-edged sword that is social media and what you have is a platform allowing aggressive, fanatic, and downright lunatic religious zealots to circulate their inflammatory ‘this is God’s wrath’ and ‘they caused this earthquake because they drink and party’ slogans. With emotions already high following the loss of loved ones and destruction of homes and livelihoods, it becomes too easy for a select few incendiaries to drive the country and its otherwise sane citizens towards irrational hysteria.
This unrelenting routine is now the unfortunate norm, which unfolds in Pakistan following a mass-scale tragedy. Instead of endeavouring to repair broken communities, the rhetoric that arises by the right-wing, hardliners results in a damaging blowback, which only leaves already-shattered communities further fragmented and striated.
Instead of a coherent analysis of what happened (an earthquake), and a reasonable response (rally together as a nation, help one another out), we’re left with a gang of bullies – ideologically incompetents hell bent on insisting that the earth’s inevitable shifting process is actually a frightening display of the powers of an evil, angry God.
The valley of the Kalash was once dominated by mostly the Kalash and moderate Ismailis. Today, as a result of migration and forced conversion, the Kalash are few in number compared to a flourishing Sunni majority.
Absolute domination by the majority has left newer generation of the Kalash slowly losing a rich culture and unique religion. The handful left behind face a daily conundrum; convert to Islam or face death, stop production of your wine or be sent to hell by the will of God, cover your women or face hell fire for all of eternity.
Yes, there are faults in the earth’s crust. Yes, weather patterns cause torrential rains and winds.
Yes, this is not Pakistan’s first devastating earthquake. And, yes, sadly this is likely not her last.
In the meantime, as winter fast approaches with both the Kalash and Muslims of Chitral currently exposed to the elements, let’s open our wallets, our hearts, and our homes. And, this time, let’s aim at seeking divine intervention instead of divine retribution.
Source:
http://blogs.tribune.com.pk/story/30316/fear-the-wrath-of-god/

The Rustam of Kalash

The Rustam of Kalash

By Huma Choudhary / Photo: Huma Choudhary / Creative: Sanober Ahmed
Rustam Shah and Clark Kent, aka Superman, have a lot in common. They both use their abilities to improve the lives of others. Born in a tiny hamlet in Kalash Valley, Shah used the power of altruism to transform the fabric of life in his village and secure a safe future for its residents.

Commonly referred to as Luke Rehmat, Shah was destined for greatness. Regardless of his father’s insistence  that Shah assist him on the family lands, Shah’s mother moved him to a secondary school in Peshawar where he completed his matriculation and later, higher education.
Disheartened and laden with responsibility, Shah attended college intermittently and eventually, had to drop out. “It was then that I decided to try and change things for people like myself,” he says. Pakistan’s education system may have evolved in many ways but Shah believes there ought to be a way for students in remote areas to access lectures and take exams online. “Many people are passionate about studying but cannot stay away from their families due to certain difficulties,” he adds.After college, Shah decided to relocate to Islamabad to pursue a bachelor’s degree in governance and organisational sciences. Unfortunately, halfway through his degree, Shah’s sister was diagnosed with Dissociative Identity Disorder and as the only brother to seven sisters he had to return to the valley and take the reins from his parents. Desperate to complete his education, Shah tried to shift his entire family to Peshawar but was unable to do so due to financial constraints.

Upon his return to the village, Shah launched a couple of initiatives. The first was a news blog entitled The Kalasha Times which offers information regarding the region’s weather, culture and prominent tourist spots. It served as a makeshift pamphlet for the region and also reported on issues such as health and education. Soon enough, the blog took off and put Shah’s hometown on the national map. “Back in 2013, a wealthy cattleman was murdered here and hundreds of his sheep were stolen,” shares Shah. “Fortunately, as a result of our follow up, the government not only compensated his family for the loss but also gave them jobs.”
The overwhelming responses received by his first two initiatives purred Shah on. Shortly after, he established his very own non-profit organisation called the Kalash People’s Development Network (KPDN) in the hopes to expedite the changing process. With a hint of pride and nostalgia, Shah shares how KPDN immediately launched relief efforts when the Kalash Valley was afflicted with floods earlier this year. “Floods are not new to Kalash but the recent ones were catastrophic and took many lives,” he says. “There are just 4,000 people in all of the 12 villages of Kalash. I was afraid if we do not help the people, we might become one of those races that existed once upon a time.”During the same year, Shah introduced a regional news portal called Ishpata News, a Twitter and Facebook-based news service. “The world is moving towards online media and I wanted people to stay updated on what is happening in Kalash,” says Shah. “People are now more inclined towards visuals and storytelling. So we began producing documentaries, video clips and photographs.”
KPDN also houses the Kalash Health and Development Programme that grants the locals regular access to basic health check-ups by way of medical camps. Other sundry projects include the Forest Conservation and Development Programme that works to curtail deforestation in the valley. Another one of Shah’s premiere ventures is the Traditional Sports Development Programme which organises a 12-day sports festival during winter every year with the aim of promoting Kalash’s traditional games, such as ghal (snow golf).Over the years, KPDN has incorporated many other progressive projects under its banner of which the Women’s Welfare Development Programme is the most prominent. Under this, Kalasha women are given vocational training and medical assistance. “We have been displaying the products made in vocational centres at exhibitions across Pakistan,” says Shah. “Some of them are sent to the UK and we are currently in talks with a university in Australia too.” Recently, Shah and his team managed to raise funds to purchase ultrasound equipment for the local hospital as well.
Other than this, Shah and KPDN are currently involved in negotiations with the National Database Registration Authority (NADRA) to issue locals official CNICs. The matter was actually resolved back in February this year but according to officials, the implementation can take up to six months or more. Adding to the variety of KPDN’s undertakings, Shah constructed a small room back in March where the Kalasha Academy of Computer Sciences (KACS) has been set up. Microsoft Word, Excel and other basic computer courses are taught here at bargain prices. “We charge a fee of Rs400,” says Shah. “Women and children are especially encouraged to join KACS.”
trailblazer in every sense of the word, Shah has gone above and beyond to serve the people of Kalash and will continue to do so with his feet firmly on the ground.
Source:
http://tribune.com.pk/story/1002594/the-rustam-of-kalash/

Stories of conversion

Stories of conversion

The writer is resident editor of The News in Peshawar.
Three Kalash girls converted to Islam in the Chitral district in the last one month, but 15-year-old Reena’s conversion on June 16 made media headlines, generating controversy and leading to tensions among the peace-loving Kalash and Muslim communities in the Bamburet valley.
Before Reena, two other girls Shaira and Karishma had embraced Islam as well, but the news remained confined to the three Kalash valleys of Bamburet, Rumbur and Birir where the Kalash, or Kalasha, peacefully coexist with their Muslim neighbours.
Reena’s conversion too would have remained unknown outside her native Aneesh village if there had been no protests (including stone-throwing) by Muslims at the house of a Kalash family that was allegedly helping her to revert to her religion. This case attracted attention all over Pakistan and abroad and almost every Pakistani politician and party gave statements condemning her ‘forced’ conversion. No attempt was made to get the details of Reena’s story and find out the truth. Reena too complained that nobody asked her about the reasons for her change of religion and instead a law and order situation was created in Bamburet out of ignorance or by those with vested interests.
Reena had approached Qari Maqbool, the peshimam of the mosque and administrator of the adjoining madressah in her village to formalise her conversion to Islam. The prayer leader did the needful. Imams, as we all know, are eager to oversee conversions as they see this as a means to seek Allah’s blessings and a vindication of the truthfulness of their religion.
It isn’t clear yet what really motivated Reena to abandon her animist set of Kalash religious rituals and become a Muslims at such a young age. Her uncle Sher Jehan and her aunt, who had embraced Islam earlier, are believed to have influenced her decision. Her father Ghulam Mohammad was visibly unhappy over Reena’s conversion when they travelled to Chitral town along with their relatives and Kalash and Muslim elders, under arrangements made by the local administration, to appear in a court and later address a news conference. However, he refrained from criticising her publicly. Instead, he pleaded that they be allowed to live peacefully as they had done all these years with their Muslim neighbours.
The issue was seen as resolved when Reena recorded her statement before Judicial Magistrate Fazal Wadood Jan under section 164 that she had embraced Islam of her own choice and not under any pressure. At the press conference, she declared that Islam was a religion of peace and love and condemned the propaganda that the local Muslim community had forced her to convert. This was a mature statement from a seemingly immature girl from a remote corner of northwestern Pakistan.
Reena was sent to her uncle’s house, the same place where the couple had reportedly influenced her to abandon her Kalash roots and become a Muslim. For now the situation has calmed down, but Reena’s conversion will continue to haunt the Kalash community, which is dwindling in numbers and influence, and will also likely mark its relations with the Muslims living in the three valleys that were originally Kalash.
It is unusual for the pagan Kalash minority or the Muslim community in Bamburet, Rumbur or Birir to confront each other the way they did in the aftermath of Reena’s conversion to Islam. Muslims gathered outside the house of Zareen, a Kalash whose wife has converted to Christianity and had reportedly tried to persuade Reena to abandon Islam and revert to her Kalash way of life. The mob of angry Muslims pelted the house with stones and demanded action against the family for misleading Reena. They could have burnt down the house, but the police reached the spot and managed to disperse the protesters through teargas and negotiations. Mercifully, there were no human or material losses.
On the persuasion of Osama Warraich, the deputy commissioner of Chitral, the Kalash and Muslim elders agreed to let Reena speak her mind before a court of law and accept her choice. As promised, the elders from the two communities have accepted Reena’s choice that she is now a Muslim.
The incident has renewed the debate about conversion of non-Muslims, including Hindu girls in Sindh, to Islam and raised questions whether these girls are converting willingly or under coercion. The fact that three Kalash girls converted to Islam in one month has been alarming news for the Kalash community. It is not only girls who are converting; many Kalash men, including an elderly 70-year old, have also converted to Islam.
In fact, some of the Kalash are also converting to Christianity. A prominent Kalash elder often quoted in the media has also become Christian. So both tableeghis, the Muslim preachers and the Christian missionaries, are at work as they try to attract the mostly poor Kalash community members to Islam and Christianity.
According to local officials, marriage with Muslim boys from the down districts, and money were the two major attractions for the Kalash to convert to Islam. In the case of the Kalash girls, marriage to Muslim boys was stated to be the reason for 90 percent of the conversions to Islam. They expressed doubt that the teenager Reena had studied enough of Islam to become a Muslim. However, in her case no definite reason is known yet that prompted her to convert. Probably, her uncle and aunt who had converted to Islam earlier played a key role in changing her mind and religion.
With around 4,000 Kalash left in Chitral following the growing conversions, the government needs to take a few steps to protect the community. As certain local officials pointed out, the costly religious and cultural festivals of the Kalash people have become unbearable for them and some of them convert to escape these unaffordable customs. The Kalash celebrate death and the three-day celebrations that follow may cost up to Rs800,000 as the mourners have to be fed and feted. The Chilumjusht spring festival in May is another costly affair because the Kalash wear new clothes, drink local wine, and contribute to preparing food for every member of the community.
There is no real government assistance to the Kalash to keep alive their religious and cultural traditions. The Kalash religious elders are paid a measly Rs1800 annually by the government as an upkeep allowance. Government and the non-governmental organisations have executed some development projects in the Kalash valleys, but the impact isn’t deep and sustained.
Another problem is the growing presence of non-locals running hotels and other businesses in the Kalash valleys. As a step towards empowerment of the Kalash and also the local Muslims, only locals should be allowed to establish businesses in the area. The Kalash have no special job quotas and this smallest minority in Pakistan is lumped together with other non-Muslims to unfairly compete for government jobs. They deserve to have special job quotas and educational stipends and their unique way of life and architecturally delightful houses should be preserved.
The road from Chitral town via Ayun to the Kalash valleys ought to be repaired and metalled and guided tours could be arranged for tourists to observe the Kalash culture in an orderly manner. Someone suggested a chairlift could be installed from Ayun to Bamburet on the five kilo9metres distance to enjoy the sights and sounds of these enchanting valleys and generate employment and business opportunities for the Kalash as well as for the Muslims living in the area.
Email: rahimyusufzai@yahoo.com
Source:

No Relief for Kalash in Pakistan’s Valley of Infidels

No Relief for Kalash in Pakistan’s Valley of Infidels

By: Ayaz Gul
ISLAMABAD — 
Years of economic pressures and alleged forced conversions to Islam continue to pose a threat to Pakistan’s tiny Kalash minority, the only pagans in the Islamic republic.
Once a large community that for many centuries ruled the scenic northern Pakistani district of Chitral and adjoining border areas of Afghanistan, the Kalash minority tribe has shrunk to around 4,000 people. They speak the Kalasha language and are now confined to three small valleys (Rumbur, Brumbret and Birir), high up in the Hindu Kush mountains.
Critics say successive Pakistani governments have done little to address the extinction threat to the Kalash and have failed to develop their poverty-stricken area to make it accessible for tourism to boost local economy.
Bleak future, festivals still popular
But despite the challenges, celebration mood and excitement remains undeterred at annual Kalash festivals where men and women, wearing traditional colorful dresses, dance and sing to entertain tourists.
Kalasha women mingle easily with male members of the society and are free to move on to new partners should the new lovers, under local customs, be willing to pay the price.
Such an act is condemned as against family honor in many other parts of Pakistan, where families adhere to a strict religious and cultural code.
A community member, Mohammad Ali, says tourism is now the only source of income for the cash-strapped Kalash families. He cites repeated natural disasters in recent years such as rain-triggered floods and earthquakes that have immensely damaged the centuries old traditional livelihood of livestock and agriculture farming.
“There are no other sources of earning for us but tourism. A large number of our young people are jobless and annually some of them also convert to the Muslim faith [in exchange for jobs],” he said.
Ali complained that absence of a proper road to link the valleys to the rest of the country has over the years discouraged local and foreign tourists to show up in large numbers at their annual festivals. It also makes at extremely difficult for the community to transport patients to hospitals in Chitral for treatment in emergency, he says.
Government says little they can do
Pakistani officials acknowledge the “sorry and sad” situation facing the Kalash and also admit nothing is being done to reverse it.
“A lot of people are leaving their culture and their religion because of a lot of immense social pressure and there are forced conversions,” warns Fouzia Saeed, head of the national institute called Lok Virsa, which focuses on promoting and raising awareness about traditional Pakistani cultures.
Activists and researchers note the Kalash settlements are being rapidly encircled by the growing Muslim population because over the years the improvised pagan community has lost control of large parts of their lands to Muslims through sale or mortgage in exchange for paltry loans.
One God
Community leaders dismiss as “incorrect” many writings on the Kalash culture that suggest the tribe believes in twelve gods and goddesses.
They say the tribe believes in “a single, creative God” and is referred to as Dezauc. But the Kalash does not believe in divine books and messengers. That belief makes them “kafirs” or infidels in the eyes of Muslim communities, say critics, which has triggered the race for converting them to Islam.
Rich Muslim neighbors also keep up the social pressure by offering incentives such as good jobs and better marriage prospects for Kalash girls to encourage conversions, says Saeed.
“I think that this whole focus of a lot of religious groups hovering around them, this whole trend should have been stopped. There should have been a national level responsibility. It is not just the government I think that the whole society does not realize that these are our treasures,” she lamented.
Pakistan has seen a rise in Islamist militancy in recent years and extremist attacks have frequently hit parts of the country. Analysts and even officials admit fears of an Islamist backlash and losing support of religious parties in elections play a role in discouraging political leaders from publicly condemning and speaking against the conversion campaign.
Origin still a mystery
The mystery about the history and origin of the Kalash people, or Kalashas, remains unresolved. While some historians say they are indigenous people, others point to the fair skin, light eyes and brown hair of the Kalash, saying the tribe might have descended from the armies of Alexander the Great, which conquered this area in the fourth century B.C.
The belief in purity and impurity is deeply rooted in the Kalash society. Women are considered “impure” during their menstrual cycle and childbirth, and are not allowed to touch anyone. They are forced to spend their days in an isolated building called Bashali, which is off limits to men, and family members deliver food at the doorstep
There are no routine daily prayers, like the Muslim communities in the valleys. The Kalash do pray whenever they initiate any activities like harvesting, plowing, construction and whenever the favor and honor of Dezau is needed,
The Kalash tribe welcomes local and foreign tourists to their four main seasonal festivals that some observers say mirror the old pagan festivals of Europe. The celebrations involve rituals and sacrifices, dances, songs, feasts and alcohol, which the Kalash brew themselves.
The Kalash break all ties to those who convert to Islam and do not accept them back in the society, nor do they resort to violent means to discourage conversions. Although, abandoning Islam in favor of another religion elsewhere in Pakistan could trigger a fatal mob attack.
Activists also complain the rate of conversions is increasing by the year because in the absence of a curriculum for the minority community in government schools, Kalasha students are forced to opt for Islamic studies.
Critics believe urgent legal and administrative actions are required to effectively document and preserve the Kalash culture and bring investment to the area to improve lives of the pagans and protect them against forced conversions.
Provincial authorities say they plan to convene a donors conference on development projects and persevering the Kalash. The regional government says it will require huge funds because officials are unable to allocate public money with their limited budget.

Source:

Peace-loving Kalash Threatened by Violence

Peace-loving Kalash Threatened by Violence
On the last day of the Shandur Polo festival, Akram and Waris realised something had gone horribly wrong near the border where they ordinarily worked.
“The terrorists timed their attack on the Kalasha perfectly,” One of the policemen said. “Our minds were occupied with the task of keeping Shandur safe, all police forces had been diverted there, no one was thinking of the border or the Kalasha. Their harvest festival was weeks away, and thats when we normally go in to protect them.”
On July 30, a band of foreign militant crossed over from Afghanistan, ate meals with Nuristani shepherds, broke bread with Gujjar goat herders and then killed two Kalasha shepherds in a brazen pre-dawn attack.
On the 31st, while Raheel Sharif, chief of army staff, made statements about how “the people (of Pakistan) could now breathe freely… (because) the noose is tightening around terrorists,” the Kalash found themselves suffocating with fright and grief over the news of their recently killed relatives.
The Kalasha, an animist tribe whose population has dwindled down to just 3,700 people spread across the valleys of Bamburet, Brir and Rumbur must now confront the reality that militants and their local sympathiser threaten their right to exist.
One policeman who asked for anonymity said, “They didn’t kill any of the Muslim shepherds they met, they were waiting for the big kill, the kafirs, the Kalasha, it was targeted. Also they allowed the two other shepherds to escape, the two others were Kalasha who have converted to Islam.”
“The first news was that there had been a theft of a large amount of cattle, and we concentrated on securing Shandur.  It was the last day of the Shandur festival, and then the army announced to all forces that there had been a terrorist attack. But it takes a day to get back from Shandur.”
The policemen huddled over a cigarette they were sharing, each dragging hard on it before flicking it into the ravine below. They explain that it doesn’t matter how hard you ride or how fast you drive, the precarious mountain bends and rugged terrain will slow you down.
“So the attackers had time to get across the border to safety but they were so sure no one would come after them, that they would be able to hide, that they remained in the area. Inki himat daykho, zara jurrat ka andaza karo – imagine the audacity. Do you begin to see the complicity they have with the Nuristani people, they are now sunni and sympathise with the killing of kafirs, so they knew they could count on people to hide them. But they didn’t count on how enraged the army was.”
The shepherds, Khush Wali and Noor Ahmed, had taken their cattle to graze in the higher pastures, beyond the army checkpoints positioned to protect the region.
“This is what the Kalash do, we take our animals to graze in the pastures high above the valleys. Tthis is our way of life, so now every family is filled with fear.  When the bodies were brought back, the mourning began and a silence came with it. We are a joyous people but the religious extremists see no merit in our singing and dancing, they label us indecent,” said Quaideazam, a Kalasha who works at Hindukush Heights. This is a boutique hotel in Chitral which also manages a fund, providing bright Kalasha youth with scholarships to pursue their dreams.
Just before the festival of Uchaw begins, the Kalash community leaders from Bamburet advised the families, whose loved ones had been butchered by the militants, to end their mourning and return to participate in welcoming the harvest season.
A procession of town folk from Bamburet begins the walk to Krakaal early in the morning, trekking past idyllic looking pastures, gurgling mountain streams and little waterfalls. Several others come later piled into jeep taxis. The Kalasha ‘Qazi’ or religious leaders  carry tiny flowers picked from nearby meadows in plastic bags.
It is impossible to discern what is being said among the gentle muttering of the religious leaders as they hand out the minuscule offerings to the people waiting for them in the home of the deceased. “Hum yahaan soog khatam karnay ka liyay aain hain…We are here to end the period of mourning, and to put the pain in these flowers,” explains one religious leader.
The mourners take the flowers in their hands, some inhale the non-existent fragrance, and then tuck the flower into their headdresses and caps in a gesture that they accept the offering. They will move towards the healing process, helping their community embrace the harvest ahead.
Amid a kaleidescope of colours, and silent bent heads, a girl introduces herself, telling us she is an engineering student. “I am Nooria, daughter of the deceased. You are our guests, please eat something. Thank you for coming today. We will now look again in the mirror, cut our nails and put on our headdresses. Please do not feel any distress, we must go back to working to making life better, safer for others.”
Men emerge from the kitchen carrying platters of tea and biscuits that are distributed to the guests. Nooria speaks to us about broken bridges, the lack of road access, and the damage from floods, “That is what we must concentrate on. We see our hostels, modern and clean, and we wonder why we cannot bring that change to our village. But you have seen our bridges and roads, its hard to bring anything here. And hard to get out, and now these attacks… We are under threat all the time, from all angles.”
As Uchaw begins the picturesque valley of Rumbur, we watch the simple shuffling motion of dancers that the militants have declared “indecent.” The dancers move in semi circles. With their arms across each others shoulders, they reverse, stepping in tiny shuffles, then rush forward, depending on the drumbeat.
A Kalash activist disentangles himself from the dancing and leans over the railing at Grom, where the dancers have amassed on a platform perched over 120 steps cut into the mountain. He asks, “What is wrong with this? From the point of view of terrorists, everything is wrong, our girls are unveiled and confident, men and women mix freely. They threaten these freedoms, these simple basic rights of ours. If we send our girls to government schools, they feel pressure to cover up. They are told the Kalasha dress tempts the eyes of men, but it is long and covered. Perhaps it is colourful, but is that worth killing our culture, murdering our people?”
A group of elderly men in brocade robes in gold and burgundy are chanting in the midst of the young throng of dancers, recounting folk tales they feel the younger generation should internalise as part of their culture.
A middle aged Kalasha woman says, “This culture is dying and the Muslims are interested in converting us, we don’t mind if Kalash want to convert they should, but when they are forced we feel fear…” Her voice drops a notch and she continues, “It’s not just Taliban, we are scared of strict and angry Muslims who just decide someone is converted to Islam. Two youth from Rumbur were said to have been converted. The Muslims insisted they were converts but they were able to go to court and say they wanted to remain Kalash. Thankfully, the judge decided it was their right… but Rani was not so lucky.”
Just before the killings of the two shepherds in the pastures, Rani, a Kalasha girl was taken to a madrassa, made to recite the kalma, given a shalwar kameez to wear, and told she was now Muslim. When she returned to her home and put on her Kalash clothing, Muslim mobs showed up outside her home, pelting her house with stones in protest, insisting that she must remain Muslim.

In a meeting of Muslim leaders and Kalasha elders, the girl’s mother demanded that her daughter should be allowed to choose whether she is Muslim or Kalasha, but the gathering refused, saying they had witnesses to Rani’s recitation of the calm. She must now continue her life as a Muslim or prepare to face the consequences. In a few hours, 700 muslims from across the three valleys had amassed at her home, and began to hurl stones at hers and neighbouring houses.
“It felt like there was gun fire and explosions, the sound of stones on tin roofs is really scary. We realised there were no guns later but the mob looked like they were out for blood. We saw her uncle dragging her out. He said she is the sacrifice. They couldn’t endanger the whole village to protect her,” said a witness to the events.
Several Kalash youth and member of the press, particularly the Ishpata news filmed the stoning on their phones. Rani then made a statement to the press and police, saying she had converted of her own free will.
Luke Rehmat, founder of the Ishpata news was particularly concerned about the scale of the violence and the speed with which the mob had amassed. “Their numbers are swelling, while our population is shrinking. They are strong and they know how to get what they want. We are not weak, but we prefer peace as a community so we step back,” says Luke.  “We are outnumbered here now, so the survival of our culture is tough. Up in the high pastures we must live in fear of those who sympathise with the Taliban and other foreign and local extremists. Here in the valley we live among those who dislike our culture and want to see us converted and assimilated.”
A three hour bone-rattling, knuckle-whitening drive from the valley of Bamburet, Quaideazam checks in people who want to work with the Kalasha.  This is what he says to them: “Help the Kalash lead themselves, help them develop networks and systems which allow the Kalash to make their own decisions and govern their own existence. What we need most is schools where our children are not being brainwashed against our culture. Then we need improvement of our infrastructure so the Kalasha can get in and out of the valleys, work and earn, facilitate trade. And we need to stop struggling to justify the ‘decency’ of our culture. Until the local residents respect our existence, our culture is doomed to die out.”
But another activist says there is an institutionalised lack of respect or recognition for the Kalasha culture: “When you go to make a passport or Nadra identity card, you’re told there is no such thing as Kalash religion. Of ourse there is, we have minority status and this is what I practice so how can our officials says that. So then I went to the passport office and I was told, no there is no Kalash religion, you’re a sect. A sect of what? We are Kalash.”
In a country like Pakistan that is burdened by multiple conflicts, the Kalash represent an oasis of peace. A serene people with a unique culture that prioritises festivity and joy, they must be given every protection.

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