For the last eighteen years, Javed has been a textile worker. Father of four, he works fifteen hours a day. His monthly wage is Rs. 8,000 (circa $ 70)
A six-lane motorway passes through central Punjab. We are on our way to Faisalabad, a two-hour drive from Lahore. Lush green fields surround the motorway, as far as one can see, on both sides. Scattered villages consisted of little cottages and peasants, silhouetted against morning fog here and there, dot the horizon. No woods as such but trees line the motorway and visible out there. The car-stereo is playing Abba. My Labour Party Pakistan-comrades tell me cheerfully that Abba is being played as I live in Sweden.
In the heart of Faisalabad, the traffic is indeed heavy. As we approach Faisalabad ---Pakistan’s third largest city after Karachi and Lahore--- rally had already began to march. One of country’s major industrial city, Faisalabad hosts bulk of Pakistan’s textile sector. We park the car as the demonstration begins to march on one of the city’s main street. As my friend Farooq Tariq opens the rear window, workers rush to the car to collect red flags.
Even if I am thousands of miles away from the town I best recognize, it is hardly a surprising experience to join a demonstration. At demonstrations tail-end, I meet Javed, a 35-year-old loom-worker. He looks as if he is 45. Along with his comrades, he has walked all the way from Sadhar---20 kilometers from Faisalabad---to participate in this demonstration and they are on strike. They are demanding better wages and release of four union leaders arrested almost a year ago during a strike (for details see Press Club Lahore). I look at Javed’s feet draped in brown sandals that are falling apart.
For the last eighteen years, Javed has been a textile worker. Father of four, he works fifteen hours a day. His monthly wage is Rs. 8,000 (circa $ 70). A kilo meat costs Rs. 400, a kilo rice costs Rs. 80 while a liter of cooking oil costs Rs. 80 too. He is blushing as he locks my eyes. His lips part into a smile. He says in a friendly tone: ‘I have come to Faisalabad because my fellow workers have been arrested without committing any crime.’ Asked if day’s demonstration would make any difference, he says they are trying to do something. Immediately, he changes his statement and says in a determined way: We will make a difference!
I run to the frontage of demonstration in a bid to take some pictures. Soon the demonstration will arrive its destination: the local police station. There will be a sit in. I am hardly able to lift my camera when rally approaches me yet again. I look around and a boy amid all men catches my attention. He is proudly waving his red flag and wants to be photographed. He is 13-year-old Gholam. Is he accompanying his father? No, he is on strike today.
He has been working at a loom since the age of 10. Wages: Rs. 4000 (circa $ 40) a month. That’s hardly what he says and rushes forward to join his comrades chanting in unison, ‘Liberation’, ‘We want our rights’, ‘Long live Labour Qoumi Movement’, and ‘It’s not late for a revolution.’
In front of police station, media corps is ready with their cameras, microphones and notebooks. The journalists from every possible media outlet are there. About 2000 demonstrators begin to camp out at the square. Minutes afterwards, about a 100 women march into the square and join the sit in. Men take turns to raise slogans and speakers are holding speeches full-throat when workers arrive with a megaphone.
Only 20,000 out of many hundred thousands are members in the union yet it is a positive development for the workers in textile sector. It was back in 2003 when Mian Abdul Qayyum, a loom worker, went to police station to rescue a fellow worker who had been arrested. He literally snatched the arrested worker from police. This act of bravery led to a positive surprise. Workers began to knock at his door to seek his help at work places. Along with some other comrades, he built the Labour Qoumi Movement (LQM). The LQM unionize the workers and is also engaged in social work. For instance, it helps women subjected to domestic violence. It helps the victims to register police cases against the abusing men in the family. A few years ago, the LQM leadership decided to join the Labour Party Pakistan (LPP).
As if revolution is contagious, Mian Abdul Qayyum ---urging the passersby to join along with their friends --- says with megaphone in hand that the workers would not leave the square until arrested union leaders are released. ‘This is our Tehreer Square’, he announces.
For six hours, speakers speak one after the other. Two women also address the sit in. A revolutionary poet recites his poems. All look happy and enthusiastic. I was trying to recall when last time I attended a demonstration where demonstrators were smiling, chanting enthusiastically but angry at the same time.
All of sudden Farooq arrives to fetch me and asks me to say a few words in megaphone. Put in this situation, I greet the workers with solidarity message on behalf of Swedish and Iranian workers. I narrate for them how their situation likens the Iranian workers. I tell them that the unity I have seen here can bring down dictators and deliver the end of capitalism. I later on found out that the speech was telecast live on the Pakistani TV.
I rise up and leave the mob for a while. Three obese men approach me and ask if I have the visa to Faisalabad, who I am and why am I visiting the city. They are from intelligence. Pakistan has at least 12 intelligence agencies. About 200 workers also get up and encircle us. I notice how the intelligence guys become nervous. The only information they can get from me is that I am Shora from Sweden. Farooq arrives and asks me to leave the place. A few minutes later Farooq gives a ring and tells me that cops wanted me to arrest for holding the speech.
Farooq told them: Arrest her and be ready for consequences……….
I go to a nearby place for pizza meantime waiting for Farooq’s call. He calls with good news. The police chief has promised to do everything possible to get the arrested union leaders released within a week. The mob begins to dissolve as workers head for their home as dusk falls. They are all smiles.
As we were leaving the town, a union leader came to me and said, ’Shukriya’ (Thanks)! The solidarity message from abroad meant a lot to us.’
Shora Esmailian