The value of other perspective

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In November 2024, the US National Book Award winners were announced. The National Book Awards are one of the most prestigious book awards in the US and the programme dates back to the 1930s. The winner in the non-fiction category last year was a book by Jason De Leon, an anthropology professor at the University of California, Los Angeles. Titled Soldiers and Kings: Survival and Hope in the World of Human Smuggling, the book is built on years of research and field work in central America by the author to understand the lives, hopes, aspirations and pain of those who are forced to flee their home and seek asylum in the US, as well as those who make this journey possible. It is a complex portrait of human smuggling, and the lives of those who are part of it. While beautifully written, it nonetheless asks difficult questions about freedom, policy, law enforcement, cruelty and corruption at all levels. In its citation the award committee said "this profoundly political book holds the US to account for its cruelty, without getting lost in the bizarre American politics of border walls." Jason De León compassionately illuminates a world of limited choices, when young men are conscripted into gangs and violence, a life of constant vigilance and early death, but most of all, a life not of the smugglers' own choosing.

As the topic of migration and human smuggling becomes even more politicised, understanding the human toll and the difficult choices people make is even more important today than it was a month ago. But there is bigger issue here: in a world where we put people in neat buckets of those "with us" and those "against us" - or labels of patriots and rebels - should we not question our own assumptions? Should we not think about the choices people make and the forces that shape those choices? Should we not wonder what would we do if we were to be in the same situation?

Closer to home celebrated Indian author Arundhati Roy wrote about her own interactions with Naxalites (sometimes also called Maoist insurgents) in her 2011 book, Walking with the Comrades. This book, like Jason's, focuses on the individuals, not just on the political part of the story. It focuses on a group that is viewed as insurgents and anti-state rebels by the Indian government. The author dispels many myths about who the people are, and why they think the way they do. She finds many ideas and practices of the movement deeply problematic, but she is also empathetic about human suffering, pain, frustration and marginalisation. The narrative is rich, honest and beautiful.

At a meeting with some students in January, I learned that there are courses at universities in Pakistan that use Roy's text. I was really pleased (or perhaps surprised) to hear that, but also troubled that no such text critical of our own policies is ever part of the curriculum. I went to bookstores in Lahore, Karachi and Islamabad, both in affluent areas and in old markets, and met with booksellers and those who were casually browsing, but there was rarely anything on the shelves that would humanise those who we demonise. The lived experience of those who we are quick to label, or otherise, was not to be found. Perhaps those books have not been written. Perhaps they have been written but not published.

The point here is not to agree with Jason De Leon or Arundhati Roy (and I am quite certain that they do not expect the readers to not disagree on some premise, point or argument), but to push ourselves to understand others. To allow for alternative perspectives, in books, op-eds, poetry and prose, is not a sign of weakness, but one of strength. In a hyper-polarised world, we should remember that putting people and their lives in pre-defined bins only creates sharp edges, not an integrated society.