Illustration: Komal Salman
By far one of the most fascinating characters in the history and folklore of modern-day Balochistan, Pakistan, is Gul Bibi, the wife of a Pakhtun tribal chieftain, Sardar Shah Sarwar. She was an influential woman in the Sarhad region on the Baloch-Persian-Afghan frontier, Her husband, Shah Sarwar was a relative of Jiand Khan Yarmohammadzai. He was an elderly man, and the capital, Khwash, also fell under his jurisdiction. Jiand was looked up to as an elder by all the tribes of the Sarhad.
Folklore remembers her gloriously. Legend has it that Gul Bibi led three feuding Pakhtun tribes, the Gamshadzais, Yarmohammadzais, and the Ismailzais, against the British. She played a major role in uniting the tribes, who were fighting for the survival of the Caliphate in Turkey, during the First World War.
This was during the same time when General Duer, infamous for murdering countless peaceful protestors at Jalianwala Bagh was posted to Balochistan. Charged with the responsibility of establishing British control in Khwash, Sarhad’s capital, Dyer too recounts his interactions with Gul Bibi, albeit somewhat at odds with local oral tradition.
He describes her as “imperious” - recounting the moment she learned that her Shah Sarwar and Jiand, his Yarmohammadzai counterpart, had lost Khwash. In truth, Duer himself had taken the city by bluffing the chieftains, and Gul Bibi saw through the strategy instantly, even if it was in retrospect. One would argue that her anger was not misplaced, after all, it was her homeland at stake.
Towards evening Idu, who had slipped away from the fort on secret business of his own, came up to my quarters to tell me that when Jiand and Shah Sawar had got back to their camp, they had received a fine scolding from the Gul-Bibi, Shah Sawar's wife, for whose fair sake, it will be remembered, the latter had bartered Khwash to Mahommed-Hassan, her nearest male relation.
And he chuckled as he went on to describe how this imperious lady had jeered at them both, calling them fools, and twitting them with the fact that it was now common talk that the General had arrived with a mere handful of men, and had simply tricked them into surrender. Nor did she leave the matter there. She proceeded to tell Jiand that, had he had the heart of a mouse he could have attacked and taken Khwash the night before, or even early that morning, for the General's little force had not arrived till the sun was well up.
Moreover, Dyer’s account attempts to eroticise her. Firstly, he alternates between referring to her by her name, Gul Bibi, and a translation of her name, the Rose Lady. Gul, in Persian, Balochi and Urdu means “flower” - it does not refer to roses exclusively. Bibi, however, is a title, for married women in particular, because using first names for the opposite gender, barring extremely casual settings, such as amongst friends, is not the norm in modern-day Pakistan even today.
One would wonder, why did he feel the need to translate her name? A name is simply a name, and remains the same, in any language. To use “Rose Lady” for a woman known as a braveheart to her people is unsettling, to say the least.
Secondly, he describes her appearance in the following words:
The following morning Landon, the Sarhad-dar, Idu and myself, set off in the car to call upon the RoseLady the most beautiful woman in the world! Half-way there Shah Sawar himself came to meet us and eventually conducted us to a huge jugi. Inside this, we found the famous beauty, seated on a pile of coloured cushions. To my great surprise, I found that Idu had not exaggerated. The Gul- Bibi really was a beautiful young woman, very fair for a Sarhadi, with regular, clean-cut, almost Grecian features, and unusual-looking, big hazel eyes. She was evidently small-boned, and her limbs and hands were beautifully modelled. She was obviously aware of her own attractions, and very animated. Her dress was white, embroidered in Persian colourings, and she wore a chuddah over her head, which fell in graceful folds, without, however, in any way concealing her face.
On our entry, she rose with dignity and bowed. Shah Sawar then proceeded to introduce us one by one. We each bowed in turn, and, at her invitation, sat on the ground in front of her, in a semicircle. She then proceeded to make us a very charming address in Persian, which Landon and I understood, though we could neither of us speak much Persian.
This also brings up the point that the traditional practices of veiling the face amongst women of the desert are rooted more in protection against the harsh climate than in religion or any other factor. Not all tribal women have traditionally veiled their faces, nor was it mandated amongst women of the Sarhad, or Baloch tribes in neighbouring regions, unlike the neighbouring Pakhtun tribes further up North.
Ghilzai women wore jewellery which covered their foreheads and noses, rather than veiling their faces. Dyer, however, recalls her choice to reveal her face with an undertone hinting at impropriety and immodesty.
But you will. She is one of the most influential individuals in the Sarhad, though she is a woman. Also, she is one of the most beautiful women in the world. And you must pardon me, Sahib, but you must accept the sheep she has sent. For it would be looked upon as a great insult were you to refuse."
You'll have to come too. I'm a married man, and I'm not going to call on the most beautiful woman in the world alone; though, by the way, I suppose"
"Certainly not," Idu put in. The Gul-Bibi values her good looks far too highly to conceal them.
Thirdly, he seems to have mistaken, what may have been a strategy as flattery. Or perhaps, he wrote it so. Duer pens an account of how she sent him peace offerings twice, and he tried to befriend her, assuming she controlled her husband.
For her part, she said all her admiration was for the General, and she intended to send him two sheep as a present, and as a mark of her appreciation.
I exclaimed. “What on earth are we to do about him now? I've just sent him back to his own people, and have come to terms with Jiand. Moreover, we have accepted the Gul Bibi's peace offering, and have promised to visit her tomorrow. She seems so influential, too, that if we make friends with her, these ruffians may really keep their word this time."
After considerable discussion, we decided to ignore Shah Sawar's treachery for the present and proceed as arranged.
Even during their final encounter when she successfully negotiated her husband’s release from British captivity, he describes her as:
Whilst he was writing out his last wishes, I made my way to the Durbar tent to wait until he had finished. On my way I met Idu and told him the result of the court martial. Idu had an uncanny gift of intuition and I am certain realised how much I disliked my obvious but uncongenial duty. He looked at me strangely and then disappeared. Some little time later I was leaving the tent when I caught sight of the Gul Bibi, Shah Sawar's wife, dressed in her very best attire, running towards me. Directly she reached me, she fell on her knees and, touching my feet with her hands, broke into lamentations.
“What is it?” I asked, trying to speak sternly. “What have you to say?”
The Gul-Bibi had a great deal to say! She said that Idu had gone to her and told her of the sentence that had been passed on her husband and she had come to plead for his life. She used every argument she could think of to persuade me to reverse the finding of the court, and finally went bail in her own person for the future good behaviour of the handsome rascal, if only he might have another chance.
“I swear to you," she said passionately, that if ever my fool of a husband raises his hand against you again or breaks his word to you, I will shoot him with my own hands. I, the Gul-Bibi, swear it."
It occurred to me that after all, it might be politic to temper justice with mercy. Shah Sawar undoubtedly had great influence and the concession of his life might be a turning point in the determination of his tribe to be loyal to the British cause. I said that she had accomplished what no one else could have done and that her eloquence had persuaded me to grant her her husband's life.”
But this is the very last time I will show him any mercy. Shah Sawar has proved himself a traitor and has broken his oath again and again. I am only letting him go now on your guarantee of his good behaviour in the future. If ever he breaks faith again, it will be for the very last time. You may go now and tell him what I have said and tell him that he owes his life entirely to you."
I directed her to the tent where she would find Shah Sawar waiting for death, and presently she returned with her husband by her side. He was obviously very subdued and very impressed. His gratitude was genuine enough, anyhow for the moment, and once more he promised that he would never fight again etc., etc.
Gul Bibi is just one name among many women, who played a role in fighting colonisation. She is someone we know, owing to the political influence her family exerted. One can only wonder how many women went unnamed. Interestingly, it was also during the time of the British Raj, that narratives of Pakhtun barbarity, both, towards women, and outsiders, took off in literature.
Gul Bibi, as an example, illustrates a new perspective: that perhaps, it was not the case. Other women from Pashto folklore, including Malalai of Maiwand, or the legend of Pakhtun women at war against the Mongols, illustrate similar themes. In Central Asia, women being trained to fight was the norm, rather than the exception. When nomadic tribes settled down, some of these traditions were lost, and new traditions were adopted. However, that is a debate for another time. In revisiting these stories, we can find and highlight the agency of Pakhtun women in history.
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