The Hum Dekhenge Controversy in India

As I approached the protest site at Delhi’s Shaheen Bagh, I noticed the sides of the desolate street sprayed with a (rather ugly-looking) labyrinth of anti-government declarations. Among these were two words that have caused controversy in India in the last few weeks – Hum Dekhenge (“We will see”).

Seemingly inconspicuous, these words were taken from a poem by the famous Pakistani artist Faiz Ahmed Faiz and adopted as one of the mottos of the protests against India’s Citizenship Amendment Act (CAA). The controversy around Hum Dekhenge shows not only how poetry can be interpreted in various ways – which is rather obvious – but how can it be understood differently, depending on: (1) whether we take into consideration a part of a work, or its entirety; (2) whether we understand a work in the context it was written or in the context it was used; and (3) whether we look at it as representing its author or the people quoting it.

The protests against the CAA erupted because the act discriminates against Muslims with regard to how the Indian government is to offer citizenship to religious refugees from three neighboring countries (Muslim-majority Afghanistan, Bangladesh, and Pakistan). Gradually, it seems, the demonstrations took the shape of a more general consolidation of those critical of the ruling party, for various reasons. In larger cities, like Delhi, the leading voices behind the protests are left-leaning and liberal citizens (of various creeds) and Muslims, while in some of the smaller cities the protests were predominantly organized by Muslims. Hum Dekhenge emerged in this context as a cry of dissent – the “we will see” line is about waiting to see the promised day when the tyranny will end.

Soon, however, each side was able to select aspects of the poem that it found more convenient for its narrative. While the protesters declared Hum Dekhenge as a dream of freedom from an unjust government (for some perhaps a bit of a socialist dream, too), their opponents were quick to point out the Islamic elements of the poem, in their attempt to paint the protests as a Muslim revolution. Indeed, being selective one can prove both.

While most of the lines of the poem speak of the tyranny falling – without clarifying what type of regime the author meant – the opponents pointed out two lines that definitely have a Islamic character. One is bas nam rahega Allah ka – “only Allah’s name will remain” – and the other is sab but uthvae jaenge – “all idols will be removed” (where “but,” idol, denotes any object of idolatry, a negative term in Islamic thinking). Given the already-mentioned significant presence of Muslims in the protests, these seem to prove the religious character of the demonstrations.

But the personality of the author is much more complex than the poem itself. Faiz Ahmed Faiz was born in colonial India but chose to live in Pakistan after Partition. His relation to his chosen country’s government saw its ups and downs – there were periods of collaboration (during the tenure of Zulfikar Ali Bhutto) but also incarceration and self-imposed exile. More importantly, Faiz was devoted to the study of Arabic and spent part of his life in Palestine, but was also a self-declared communist – a member of the Communist Party of India in the colonial period and a Lenin Prize awardee during his life as a Pakistani citizen.

With such a background, anybody can guess his interpretation of the poem. Wasn’t Faiz connected to Islamic traditions and did he not choose Pakistan as his country? Aren’t many of the Indian protesters Muslims and does not the poem speak of Allah and vanquishing idolatry? All of this is true, but picking only these aspects is as unfair as focusing on only on Faiz’s personal adherence to communism. His Hum Dekhenge was actually first a voice of disagreement with the dictatorship of general Zia ul-Haq. It was also later used against the authoritarian rule of another Pakistani general, Parvez Musharraf (the second took place long after Faiz’s death). It is only in the last few months that it has been adopted by protesters in India, in completely different circumstances. 

While there is no doubt that the two quoted lines of Hum Dekhenge have an Islamic character and display the author’s religiosity, and there is no point in denying this for the sake of political correctness, it must be stressed that Faiz was known to speak against Islam-based autocracy, not in support of it. Zia ul-Haq’s regime – which Faiz spoke against – was known for its promotion of radical Islamism. Similarly, the protesters in India have their concrete reasons to oppose the CAA but these do not indicate a “Muslim revolution,” as some would like to call it (this was apparent both in the reports on the protests and in my conversations with their participants). The anti-authoritarian lines of Hum Dekhenge (but not the two religious ones) are on the lips of many protesters, including non-Muslim liberals and representatives of the left.

The debate around Hum Dekhenge reminds one of the (only somewhat) similar debate that once surrounded Vande Mataram. A widely popular patriotic song from a 19th century Bengali novel, Anandmath (penned by Bankim Chandra Chatterjee), Vande Mataram compares the nation to a Hindu goddess and merges religious adoration of a Hindu deity with an act of patriotic salute. It was and is loved by the Hindu right, but was opposed by Indian Muslims and at least part of the left. While originally a hymn to the Bengali nation, its meaning was gradually extended to represent the entire Indian nation. Yet, just like in case of Hum Dekhenge, those opposing Vande Mataram focused on the views of the author, pointing out that that his novel is directed only against Muslim rulers, while avoiding being critical of British colonial rule (under which Chatterjee lived). The apprehensions about Vande Mataram’s religious character led to it becoming only the “national song” (and not the national anthem) of the Republic of India – and that, too, included only the first verses, not those that were outspokenly religious. Hum Dekhenge is now similarly quoted in India without its more controversial bits.

While otherwise the two works are different, the distant similarity is that in both cases they can be used to express patriotic feelings (and dissenting ones in case of Hum Dekhenge) and that their wider use often ignores or downplays their religious accents. The golden rule, probably, is that poetry can be used in various contexts, like a recipe that has branched out into many regional varieties and cannot be restricted to the original. Once a poem or a song is used in a new environment and by different people, we should first of all consider these new circumstances, not keep it bound by the original meaning and usage.