'Asian Cilla Black' brings arranged marriages to TV

By Jerome Taylor
Published: The Independent 30 October 2007

Ask someone in a happy arranged marriage why they let their parents pick their spouse and they often repeat the saying: "In the West, you marry the one you love. In the East, we love the one we marry". You learn to love the person you marry, they argue, because the people who selected them chose so well. Parents and close relatives are the people who know you better than anyone else, so why not let them choose something as important as a life partner?
Now the BBC hopes to bring this philosophy into our homes and hearts with a new primetime matchmaking show to help lonesome singles find the partner of their dreams using the principles of a modern Asian arranged marriage.
Arrange Me A Marriage which airs next month on BBC2 is hosted by Aneela Rahman, a thirty-something British Pakistani who is being heralded as the "Asian Cilla Black".
With such high divorce rates in the UK, Ms Rahman believes the key to successfully finding a life partner is through the principles of a modern arranged marriage in which compatibility is crucial. Only by matching up class, education, family background, life goals and earnings will it ultimately succeed.
She argues her 15 years of marriage to her husband Maqsood, with whom she has two children, is living proof that arranged marriages work and, in a society where more and more people live alone unhappily, a dose of traditional Asian marital medicine may be exactly what we need.
She said: "Most Asians are introduced to potential partners by the people who know them best – their family and friends – and the suitors are selected in a very matter-of-fact way based on who might be most compatible."
"My approach to arranging marriages is pragmatic, focusing on compatibility – looking at shared goals, background, values, education, earning potential but love and attraction is also very important. I don't advocate suitors getting together if they aren't attracted to each other. But I believe that there is a strong chance of making a successful marriage if as many of these key factors as possible are taken into account."
A pilot of the programme aired earlier this year. It received such positive reviews that BBC executives were persuaded to commission a five-part series. The first episode features Lexi Proud, a 33-year-old who moved, aged 16, from the North-east to London and has a string of broken relationships. Aneela believes that Lexi's pattern of failed relationships is down to dating people outside of her class – something with which Lexi strongly disagrees – and so Aneela sets about finding her someone more compatible, using her family as chief advisers.
Geeta Vastavasrivastava, the UK head of the global matrimonial website Shaadi.com, said: "Because an arranged marriage is supported by a family from the start, when you go through a bad patch, you still have the support of the two families that brought that marriage about in the first place. It's something very specific to the Asian culture."
She believes that many people in Britain have trouble with the idea of an arranged marriage because they confuse it with a forced marriage. Geeta said: "The vast majority of arranged marriages are not forced in any way. You can often spend a few months with someone the family has chosen and at the end of it just say no. Ninety per cent of the people I know have decided on their own whether they like the person enough to marry them."
But many young Asians increasingly believe that the concept of an arranged marriage is incompatible with living in the modern world and point to increasing divorce rates among Asian couples.
Aninditha Basu, a 33-year-old lawyer currently fighting off suitors put forward by her family, believes that arranged marriages are simply too artificial for modern times.
She said: "In an arranged marriage both prospective partners only show their best side so you don't get to know the real person. In a love match, you already know everything there is to know about your partner before you take the plunge. For me it's not good enough to hope that love comes once the marriage has taken place. That's too big a risk to take."

http://news.independent.co.uk/media/article3109882.ece

Unveiled: The Pakistani tribe that dares to defy the fundamentalists

(PHOTO: Jerome Taylor)

Published, The Independent: 18 July 2007

In the North West Frontier Province, the mullahs' word is law and the veil is worn. But one ancient tribe refuses to cover up. Jerome Taylor reports from the Rumbur Valley

In Pakistan's deeply conservative North West Frontier Province, the veil is simply a way of life. Whether in the bazaars of the capital Peshawar or high up in the myriad of Himalayan villages bordering Afghanistan, women wishing to leave their houses do so under the cover of a niqab or a billowing burqa. So important is the Islamic concept of purdah that the fort-like houses in the tribal areas usually contain separate living quarters for women and men.
Give or take the occasional advertising hoarding or glitzy film from Lahore, most men are unlikely to see an adult female face outside of their immediate family until they marry.
But in the remote Chitral region nestled high in the Hindu Kush mountain range are the last remnants of a tribe where the women walk unveiled in bright red and black dresses. Lavishly decorated with orange bead necklaces and colourful hats made from cowrie shells, they dance in public and are often free to marry and take lovers. They are the Kalasha, one of Pakistan's only remaining indigenous non-Muslim communities and a remarkable living throwback to a pre-Islamic era.
Yet according to the Kalasha themselves, their unique way of life is under attack like never before. Thanks to rising extremism among a small minority of Pakistanis and the growing appeal of populist orthodox mullahs who espouse sharia law and Taliban-like austerity, the Kalasha are increasingly in the firing line.
"We've always been called kafirs (infidels) but most people simply left us alone," says Azam Kalash, one of the few members of his 3,500-strong community who managed to go to university and now campaigns for his tribe's welfare. "Now we are deemed enemy number one. Particularly after September 11 and the wars in Afghanistan and Iraq, the missionaries and mullahs are determined to see us wiped out."
Isolated from the outside world by the remoteness of their valleys and the heavy Himalayan snows that block the mountain passes in winter, the Kalash somehow managed to survive successive waves of Muslim invaders and missionaries that pushed back the pre-Islamic Hindu, Buddhist and pagan tribes who once filled the fertile plains of the Indus valley.
Until last century, very few outsiders had ever made it as far as the three valleys of Rumbur, Bumboret and Birir where the Kalasha now live. Even today the valleys are only accessible by 4x4 along a tortuous road perilously carved into the shifting mountain side. But 20 years ago, following the Soviet invasion of Afghanistan and the rise of the religious mujahedin, things began to change.
"For a long time the Kalasha lived in total isolation," says Cecil Chaudhury, General Secretary of the All Pakistan Minorities Alliance. "I remember going there in the 1950s with a mountaineering expedition and they were blissfully happy living in their own distinct social system. But with the mujahedin came the missionaries and the Kalasha were always going to be an easy group to target. Now the extremists are back."
Although the fighters have largely disappeared from the Chitral region, the Kalasha are now outnumbered in their own villages by converts and outsiders. During the Soviet war in Afghanistan, the notoriously brutal Afghan warlord Gulbuddin Hekmatyar used the valley as his hideout and many believe he has returned to the region to continue his fight against Nato forces and the Afghan government.
After a 10-year lull, the missionaries are returning and many fear that if orthodox preachers, such as those who, until recently, ran Islamabad's Red Mosque, continue to increase their appeal, the country's last non-Muslim tribe may sink into oblivion.
No Kalasha would mean no Zonor Bibi. The mother of five sits on the front porch of her mud-walled house perched high above the swollen glacial river that roars through the heart of her village. It is harvest time and apricots lie drying in the summer sun eyed by her eight-year-old daughter Walena.
Zonor's husband has just set off on the daily three-hour walk to the grazing meadows that lie high above the village but that does not stop Zonor from welcoming outsiders with open arms, an act that would be unthinkable to her Muslim neighbours.
Deeply proud of her culture, she bursts into laughter when asked how long it takes to make the iconic cowrie shell hats that all Kalasha women wear.
"They take us months," she says. "It is important to continue our traditions so not to anger our spirits and god."
Kalasha believe that failure to practice their ancient traditions has profound religious implications and can bring disaster on the village which may explain why their dress and distinct practices have managed to survive against such odds.
The role of women in Kalash society is perhaps the most obvious aspect that separates their culture from their Muslim neighbours. Where Muslim women in the region generally remain indoors or hidden from public view, their Kalash counterparts are conspicuous in the fields working alongside their men. During the festivals that celebrate the various summer harvests and preparations for winter, it is not unusual to find Kalasha women drinking apricot wine and dancing in public with males that are neither their husband nor family. Although some marriages are arranged by families, it is perfectly acceptable for Kalasha women to choose their husbands. If they are treated unkindly during the marriage the women are expected to leave the house and take a lover.
Such comparative sexual and social freedom has led to the false but commonly held perception among many lowland Pakistanis that the tribe's women are sexually promiscuous. But while Kalasha men do seem to extend a greater level of physical and social freedom to their other halves, the lives of their women-folk are still strictly regimented.
To the Kalash the world is divided into two states, onjesta (pure, sacred) and pragata (impure, profane). Women are considered pragata, particularly during menstruation and childbirth where they are exiled to special huts away from the village. Only once they have purified themselves can they return to the tribe. Certain fields and shrines considered pure and sacred to the community are also out of bounds for the tribe's women.
Such peculiarly distinct customs have fascinated anthropologists, linguists and travellers alike for centuries, not just because the survival of the Kalasha in a sea of Islam is so unusual but because no one is sure exactly where they came from.
Their tongue, like many of the dialects spoken in the Hindu Kush range, is closest to the Dardic branch of the Indo-European languages of Central Asia. But Kalash oral history tells a different story, that they are descended from Shalak Shah, one of Alexander the Great's generals whose armies conquered as far as the Indus river before turning back towards Europe. Although blond hair and blue eyes are common amongst the Kalash, recent genetic testing has suggested that they may be an aboriginal group that are, in fact, indigenous to the area.
But how did the Kalasha manage to cling on to their distinct polytheistic pagan traditions in an area renowned for its particularly orthodox brand of Islam?
"I think they were just lucky," says Siraj Ul Mulk, a direct descendant of the Sunni Muslim royal family that once ruled the Chitral region until they ceded to Pakistan in the 1960s.
"Despite their orthodox appearance, Chitralis have always been very relaxed about the Kalasha and other minorities. The missionaries always tend to come from outside." Walking through the dusty fort that his father, the Mehtar of Chitral, once used as his summer palace, Mr Ul Mulk also offers another explanation for why the Kalasha of Pakistan remained unharmed: India's partition. "Under British partition we were lucky enough to be placed on the Pakistani side," he says. "If we'd ended up in Afghanistan I doubt the Kalasha would have survived."
Two hundred years ago Afghanistan was also home to numerous Kalasha tribes, known locally as the Red Kafirs, but they were annihilated at the end of the 19th century. After receiving a bloody nose in two disastrous conflicts with the Afghans, the British simply stood by as the founding father of modern Afghanistan, Abdur Rahman Khan, systematically forced the non-Muslim tribes in the east of the country to convert at the point of a sword. A small number of Afghan Kalasha managed to flee towards Chitral and can still be seen in the upper valleys wearing their distinctive red dresses but all Kalasha are fully aware of the threat that extremist beliefs pose to their very survival.
That the Kalash are frightened of the current climate in Pakistan is testament to how seriously they take the current threats. They survived the marauding armies of Tamerlaine, the religious zeal of Abdur Rahman and even the anti-Soviet mujahedin. But now, like many of Pakistan's religious and ethnic minorities, they once again feel unprotected and vulnerable.
"We've survived so much over the years and we're not about to give up now," says Azam Kalash. "For centuries we have lived happily alongside our Muslim neighbours but thanks to extremism our numbers are dwindling. Whether we'll survive this century I simply don't know."

http://news.independent.co.uk/world/asia/article2779426.ece