'Battling begums' warn Bangladesh won't wait for polls

(PHOTO: Jerome Taylor)

Published The Independent: 27 April 2007
By Jerome Taylor

Wearing her familiar rimless spectacles and sipping tea from a china cup, Sheikh Hasina Wazed doesn't immediately live up to her billing as one of Bangladesh's two "battling Begums".
But the fiery, populist leader has the ability to call millions of supporters on to the streets of Dhaka, and it is her bitter hatred of her political rival, Begum Khaleda Zia, that has paralysed her country and allowed the military to step in.
Now those rivalries will have to be put aside for, according to Sheikh Hasina, the army is shutting down democracy in their country and risks turning the world's third largest Muslim nation into a dictatorship similar to Pakistan's.
Speaking during a temporary exile in London, she warned that unless the military-backed caretaker government holds fair elections soon, the patience of the Bangladeshi people could run out.
"At the moment, there is no democracy in Bangladesh at all," she said. "They have gagged the press and have yet to hold elections. I don't know what will happen but the people will not wait forever. Once the people come out on to the street, I don't know how long their patience will last."
Her remarks came as the military-backed government was forced this week to make an embarrassing climb-down and abandon its plans to exile Sheikh Hasina and her rival, Ms Zia.
Last weekend, Sheikh Hasina, who ran Bangladesh as prime minister between 1996-2001, found herself marooned in London after the caretaker government issued a note to all airlines forbidding them from allowing her onto any flights to Dhaka.
Ms Zia, who stepped down as prime minister last year, was placed under house arrest and many said she would be forced to go into exile in Saudi Arabia.
The military-backed government, which took power in January and suspended the coming elections, argued the measures were needed to clean up Bangladeshi politics, after months of violent protests between supporters of Sheikh Hasina and Ms Zia's parties left more than 45 dead and brought the country to a standstill.
But suggestions the military were hoping to completely remove the two leaders from Bangladeshi politics met strong domestic and international criticism, and yesterday restrictions against Sheikh Hasina and Ms Zia were lifted.
Many remain concerned the stifling of popular mainstream parties could turning Bangladesh into something resembling Pakistan, which is still waiting for democracy eight years after the military took control.
Sheikh Hasina warned the military against any such move: "I think some quarters [of the army] were encouraged by the Pakistani model, but Bangladesh is totally different, our society and people won't let it happen," she said.
Sheikh Hasina's relationship with the military has been a turbulent one. Her father, the founder of modern Bangladesh, Sheikh Mujibur Rahman, was assassinated with her mother and three brothers in 1975 after army officers took power in a coup. Democratic forces eventually overthrew the military in 1991 but, since then, politics has been dominated by the rivalry between Sheikh Hasina and Ms Zia, a rivalry which rarely brings peaceful elections and has turned Bangladesh into one of the world's most corrupt countries.
And when she returns to Dhaka, Sheikh Hasina faces murder charges over the deaths of five opposition activists during violent protests last year.
"I am ready to face them, even if they arrest me," she said. "I have faith that the law will take its own course. I have been in jail before but I learnt from my father to face any situation."

http://news.independent.co.uk/world/asia/article2488805.ece

India's star marriage: Bollywood's golden wedding

(Photo taken from the film Umrao Jaan)

Today's lavish wedding of Aishwarya Rai and Abhishek Bachchan has generated levels of excitement in India the likes of Liz Hurley can only dream of. By Jerome Taylor

Published 20 April 2007, The Independent.

The couple themselves would make the ultimate Hollywood love story. One is a beautiful, green-eyed starlet who conquered hearts across the world with her stunning silver-screen looks, the other is a muscled, gritty heartthrob and heir to one of the most popular acting dynasties in the world. And today they finally tie the knot after finding love on a movie set.
But this is not the story of Brangelina or the latest Hollywood duet. This the story of "Abhiash", Bollywood's hottest couple, and the wedding that India has been waiting for with a level of excitement that could, perhaps, only be rivalled by a cricket World Cup final pitting India against Pakistan.
When Aishwarya Rai and Abhishek Bachchan announced their engagement in January after months of speculation, it was clear that their wedding was only going to be one thing: the Wedding of the Century.
Rai, a former Miss World and one of the few Indian film stars to have successfully crossed over into Western cinema (thanks to the British director Gurinder Chadha's Bride and Prejudice), is Bollywood's leading lady. Her husband-to-be is the son of Amitabh Bachchan, the godfather of Bollywood who has been known to churn out more than 60 films a year and is quite possibly India's most popular film star of all time.
When Britain's paparazzi descended in their droves last month on the western desert city of Jodhpur for the second wedding ceremony of Elizabeth Hurley and her textile mogul husband, Arun Nayar, India looked on somewhat bemused.
As one Indian journalist put it: "Ultimately very few people in India had ever heard of Liz Hurley let alone cared that she was getting married. Many Western journalists were asking locals in Jodhpur, 'What do you think of Liz Hurley?' and most of them replied 'Who's Liz Hurley?'. As far as Indians are concerned there is only one wedding this year, that of Aishwarya Rai and Abhishek Bachchan."
That would be putting it mildly. Both actors have remained two of the most popular Bollywood stars in recent years; an impressive feat in the highly fickle world of Bollywood where a single bad film or politically careless remark can result in this month's hottest star being replaced by the latest beautiful hopefuls who arrive in Mumbai, the home of Bollywood, in their thousands each year.
Born into a devout Hindu family in the southern port town of Mangalore, Rai first made headlines after winning the Miss World contest in 1994. Her vibrant jade-green eyes were an unusual asset for someone from a southern Indian state and she soon began turning heads in Tamil-language films before being snapped up by Bollywood.
Unusually for a Bollywood actress, many of whom remain unknown outside India, Rai managed to make an impact on Western cinema after winning over international critics in the lavishly produced epic Devdas, which was given a special screening at Cannes in 2005. Her starring role in the British film Bride and Prejudice, Chadha's popular interpretation of Jane Austen's Pride and Prejudice, made her a household name and her latest Western film, Provoked, which tells the tale of a battered British Asian housewife forced to kill her abusive husband, has received handsome reviews.
Her groom, who, despite his family heritage, initially found it difficult breaking into Bollywood, is now one of the highest-paid male stars in India, feted by both the press and hordes of screaming female fans. It was perhaps inevitable therefore that Bollywood's two hottest stars would meet on a film set and fall in love.
A marriage between two Bollywood stars is big news in India at the best of time but the number of column inches dedicated to "Abhiash's" wedding preparations has been remarkable even by the standards of film star-obsessed India.
Over the past three months, the country's numerous movie magazines, gossip columns, celebrity websites and chat forums have been talking about little else. Publicists have found it difficult to garner interest in their forthcoming releases, tantrum-prone starlets have been sidelined by the celebrity reporters who are determined above all to get the ultimate scoop on just one thing: "Abhiash" and their marriage. No detail of the wedding preparations - be it the colour of the tablecloths or the truth of a rumour that the groom will wear a golden crown once favoured by Bengali princes - has been too small for the magazines to detail in all its lurid glory. No snippet of information is too irrelevant to be billed as an exclusive scoop. Rumours of upset mother-in-laws, jilted ex-lovers and wedding day jitters fill the celebrity pages, usually with little evidence to back them up.
But such overwhelming press attention has resulted in the Rai and Bachchan families going to extraordinary lengths to keep the details about their wedding as secret as possible and the Bachchan family residence has been turned into a veritable fortress. All around the string of bungalows which are situated on a prime spot of the exclusive Juhu Beach area of Mumbai, constructors have erected a giant wooden wall to keep fans and, more importantly, the long lenses of the paparazzi out.
Guests have reportedly been asked to keep completely silent about the arrangements and more than 500 police officers are on duty to keep fans at bay.
Not that the incredible security around the Bachchan family bungalow will deter the most hardened fans. Throughout the week, stories of die-hard fans desperate to do something that will get them the must-have invite have peppered the Indian newspapers.
Prakash Pandey, a small-time confectioner from Kanpur in the state of Uttar Pradesh, whose shop briefly appeared in one of Abhishek Bachchan's films two years ago, recently announced he would travel to Mumbai and personally deliver an enormous tray of wedding sweets.
"When Abhishek came two years ago to Kanpur for a film shoot, he came to my shop and called me uncle," Pandey told reporters before boarding a train. "He is my nephew. I will be allowed into the Bachchan house as I have been there before."
A 17-year-old girl from the state of Bihar, meanwhile, has been working day and night for more than a month to finish a red embroidered sari that she wants to present to her idol, Rai, as a gift. Asked whether she thought she could get round security, Joyti Kumari simply replied: "I will try my best."
The contrast between the lives of these two fans and the idols they adore could hardly be greater - Bihar and Uttar Pradesh are two of the poorest states of India while Rai and Bachchan live the life of Mumbai royalty far removed from the slums and poverty around them - but they sum up how seriously India takes its film stars and how loved they are by their fans.
To the Indian population, the vast majority of whom live in the countryside, the cinema is often the one major source of entertainment and Bollywood stars, particularly those who play heroic roles, are given a virtually god-like status. Such popularity brings great political potential and many of Bollywood's greatest actors, including both Bachchan's parents, have dabbled to varying degrees of success in India's political system.
But unlike many Indian weddings, which often involve noisy and colourful street processions that bring the whole town out onto the streets in celebration, the wedding of Aishwarya and Abhishek is set to be a decidedly private affair. Abhishek's octogenarian grandmother is seriously ill and the family have reportedly toned down the celebrations so that she can attend.
Nonetheless, no expense has been spared for the three-day ceremony which kicked off on Wednesday with a pre-marriage party featuring songs, dances and skits performed by close friends and will climax today in the actual Hindu ceremony that binds the couple together as man and wife.
"There are seven types of Hindu weddings, ranging from very simple ceremonies where the man and woman simply exchange rings to weddings involving extremely complicated religious rituals. This wedding is the latter," said Ramesh Kallidai, head of the Hindu Forum of Britain.
Both the bride and groom come from devout Hindu families. In the months leading to their official engagement, both the couple and their families were seen visiting a number of important Hindu temples and the relatives have reportedly visited numerous Vedic astrologers and soothsayers to find an auspicious date for the wedding ceremony. According to Mr Kallidai, they could hardly have picked a more suitable date.
"Starting from last night, the next few days are considered particularly auspicious days for making a new beginning so, naturally, there will be many weddings this weekend," he said.
"The reason for this is because, on this lunar day, the holy Ganges river descended from the heavenly planets to the earthly realm. Any activity begun today, be it a marriage, job or journey, will grow and prosper."

Fire and light: the Hindu wedding
Hindu weddings vary from the opulent ceremonies favoured by India's elite to village ceremonies for more than one couple, to cut down on costs.
Clothing, style and practices depend on caste and region, but the wedding itself has set rituals dating back 6,000 years.
Blessings are performed in the weeks leading up to the marriage. The day itself starts with the bridegroom and his family marching, accompanied by musicians and priests, to a covered canopy where the bride and her family awaits.
The father gives his daughter to the bridegroom, who is showered with petals by his bride while she circles him four times. The couple exchange garlands and sit down together under a wedding canopy.
Usually the bride's hands and feet are ornately decorated with henna. Aishwarya Rai has had the finest henna flown from the state of Rajasthan.
A Hindu wedding is essentially a fire sacrifice and under Indian law no Hindu marriage is complete without the presence of the sacred fire, Agni.
Sitting before the sacred fire, the bridegroom places red kumkum powder on his bride's forehead, ties a sacred thread to her and accepts her hands in a ritual known as Pani Grahanam. The marriage is completed by a ritual known as Saptapdi, where the newlyweds take seven holy steps around the fire, making sacred vows to each other with each step.
Those vows made in front of Agni are considered unbreakable and emphasise the importance of creating a loving and peaceful environment for the new couple and their children.

http://news.independent.co.uk/world/asia/article2465941.ece

The ultimate North-South divide: Fore! Welcome to the world's most dangerous golf course

(South Korean soldier looks out over North Korea. Photo: Jerome Taylor)

Situated on a strip of land two and a half miles wide, the fairway at Panmunjom is not the only strange thing you'll find in the Korean Demilitarised Zone. Jerome Taylor reports

Published the Independent: 04 April 2007

When he's not on duty, Sgt Corbin likes to relax with a quick round of golf. It has to be quick, though, because the only golf course on his base is a single hole, par 3. And it's no place for a stroll in the rough. The fairway is ringed by landmines.

The course is a well-driven tee shot from the Demilitarised Zone (DMZ), the most heavily fortified border in the world. This strip of land - two and a half miles wide - divides the two Koreas.

And Camp Bonifas is the closest military base to North Korea. If war were ever to break out on the Korean peninsula, the camp and its 400 or so United Nations soldiers expect to bear the full brunt of a military assault from a million-strong army.

Sgt Corbin's rather exclusive, 192-yard hole was dubbed "The World's Most Dangerous Golf Course" at the height of the Cold War. The name stuck and the troops stationed there, most of whom are from the US and South Korea, are fiercely proud of it.

"Damn right it's dangerous," smiles Sgt Corbin, a giant of a man with cropped hair and the kind of square-cut jaw ideal for shaving commercials and the US Army. "It's completely surrounded by minefields. If you hook your ball into the rough, I can tell you, you're not getting it back."

A few weeks ago, he even managed to lose a golf club. "I headed down to the course and tried out a brand new club," he said. "If I'm honest I might have had a few beers to drink so I wasn't exactly on my finest form. Anyway I took a swing and the club flew straight out of my hand. A $400 golf club lying in the rough and I can't go get it!"

The 155-mile DMZ runs across the Korean peninsula like a gruesome scar, cleaving it in two. It has separated family, friends and sworn enemies for more than 50 years.
Barbed wire fences, tank traps, artillery guns and minefields line both sides, creating a powerful physical obstacle between the two countries. Europe's Iron Curtain would have paled in comparison with its east Asian counterpart. And whereas people power brought down Europe's ideological and physical barriers, the sheer scale of the DMZ makes its removal, at present, a distant thought.

As you leave the heavily fortified UN base (passing under the camp's welcome sign that ominously reads "In Front of Them All") and head deep into the no-man's-land of the DMZ, it's easy to imagine that Camp Bonifas is the start of some bizarre theme park where danger is the feature attraction and where reality verges on the absurd.

Although only 40km from South Korea's capital, Seoul, the DMZ is virtually a world away. Driving out of Seoul's densely packed northern suburbs and on to the so-called Freedom Highway (a four-lane expressway which, incidentally, boasts a number of collapsible concrete tank traps to block an invading army), the arrival at the DMZ's first barbed-wire checkpoint is a grim reminder of last century's political brinkmanship. Here, in an isolated corner of east Asia, the Cold War still rages in a place where only metal and guns can keep two foes apart.

No place better illustrates quite how surreal the DMZ is than the truce village of Panmunjom, the home of the UN's Joint Security Area (JSA), where soldiers from both Koreas stand just metres from each other at the only place where North and South meet without fences and razor wire.

A few minutes drive north of Camp Bonifas, Panmunjom is the place where the Korean War was finally brought to a close on 27 July 1953, after the death of at least three million people. It was the first "hot" war of the Cold War era and, despite three years of bitter fighting, neither the Communist armies of North Korea, Russia and their Chinese "volunteers" on one side, nor South Korea and her US-led UN force had advanced beyond their original starting positions on the 38th parallel. The ceasefire signed on that day was simply an armistice agreement and, to this day, the two Koreas remain technically at war.

When favourable relations permit, Panmunjom is also the only place where the militaries of the two Koreas can meet face to face. In a claustrophobic, egg-shell blue UN hut, placed squarely over the border, the two sides sit across from each other at a single wooden table. The microphones that run down the table constitute the border and the division is relaxed solely for the obligatory handshakes.

The only other visitors to the hut are the 200,000 or so tourists that come to Panmunjom every year to view this ageing but very real relic of the Cold War. Part of the draw of the truce village is the chance to see a bizarre world where the two adversaries can still eyeball each other face to face. Dressed in American aviator sunglasses and standing motionless in their famous tae kwon do stance, South Korean troops silently face down their khaki-clad northern counterparts 24 hours a day.

But the eerie calm that hangs over the village should not be taken for granted. It is a place held hostage by the fickle relations between Seoul and Pyongyang and, when tensions flare up, it has become as much a place of death and violence as it is a testament to reconciliation.
Over the past half century, at least 50 Americans, 1,000 South Koreans and many more North Koreans have died in skirmishes along the DMZ. In 1984, in the space of just a few minutes, three North Korean soldiers and one South Korean soldier were killed in Panmunjom after a gunfight broke out when a Russian diplomat took the opportunity to defect to the south while on a visit. With no actual physical barrier to stop him, the diplomat simply ran past the guards and nearly started the third world war.

Eight years earlier, in what is described in the tourist literatures as simply "The Tree Chopping Incident", two American soldiers were hacked to death by an axe-wielding North Korean soldier as they tried to trim the branches of a poplar tree which was obscuring their view. One of those men was called Capt Arthur Bonifas and the UN camp was renamed in his honour.

And yet the DMZ may well be the one thing that could bring the Korean people together again. Despite its long history of foreign occupation, Korea has been a single nation made up of one ethnicity for more than 2,000 years and Koreans on both sides of the border are painfully aware of their recent divide.

"All Koreans, regardless of where they live, dream one day of unification," says Park Chan-bong, a senior official in South Korea's Ministry of Unification, the ministry charged with engaging their neighbours in the north. "I really don't think any politician, either in the north or the south, will have difficulty finding support for unification."

Thanks to the deal signed in February this year, whereby North Korea agreed to suspend its nuclear programme in exchange for aid, the relationship between Seoul and Pyongyang has improved dramatically. Aid shipments from the South to the poverty stricken North have begun again and, last week, 102-year-old Choe Byeong-ok became the first South Korean to be linked up via video with his son in the North after family reunions were resumed following a suspension last summer over Pyongyang's long-range missile tests.

Some newspapers south of the DMZ have even begun suggesting that a peace treaty between the two Koreas might be on the cards, which would formally end five decades of war.
For veteran negotiators like Mr Park, who have seen many a ground-breaking proposal in Korean peace negotiations rebuffed by Pyongyang's often erratic behaviour, unification would be impossible without North Korea giving up its nuclear ambitions.

"Without de-nuclearisation I can't see any peace treaty," Mr Park said. "But unification within my lifetime? We've taken the first steps so why not?"

Perhaps the only downside to unification would be the demise of the "World's Most Dangerous Golf Course". But then again, Sgt Corbin could get his club back.

http://news.independent.co.uk/world/asia/article2418431.ece