As I sat penning this review I asked myself what drew me to read it in the first place. As an economist in the making who largely studies data, development and finance I could hardly pinpoint why a topic like policing intrigued me. Until of course, it hit me – the familiar 21st century feeling of being watched!
While it is all the more pronounced in the age of big data, policing- by family, friends, the state, your employer or just about any stranger on the street who may at some point come to define one’s narrative- is a common underlying theme in so many decisions one makes, I realized. The book, From Family to Police Force- Security and Belonging on a South Asian Border by Farhana Ibrahim (published by Cornell University Press in 2021) brilliantly puts into broader context how the intermingling of different identities elicit very different forms of policing by very different categories of communities, and then proceeds to make for an even compelling read by choosing the western-most border of India in Kutch, Gujarat as its setting. As a PhD scholar in the early 2000s, Ibrahim writes about her experiences from touring the regions in and around Kutch while interviewing diverse sets of people in an attempt to understand the flows of policing norms between formal institutions like the state and others like family and caste communities.
Perhaps an interesting preface to the theme of the book is a discussion on the origins of the word police. The usage of this word as we know it (regulation and control of a community) derives itself from the Latin word politia which loosely translates to ‘civil administration and governance’ that further dates back to the Greek word polis which stands for city. It is interesting to note how the connotations of the word while retaining some of its original meanings, have come to look so different in the modern-day. Ibrahim discusses this topic of “regulation” that is no longer restricted to the maintenance of public law and order or the role of a formally appointed policing institution alone. The first chapter of the book discusses a two-way relationship of scrutiny between the state and local agents of power, quite unlike the way we would imagine. It brings out with a certain nuance the love-hate relationship between formal and informal policing. For instance, while on one hand claims that religious ties between communities residing on both sides of the Indo-Pak border are enough to ward off the threat of war are dismissed in favour of setting up an impartial border service force comprising of formally recruited agents, on the other, there are elaborate demonstrations of how even these formally appointed officials sought validation of their power from locally well-reputed leaders like Gulbeg in the book.
Further ahead, the book dives deeper into the differences in perception of the military and its domestic counterpart, the police force. While one may or may not reside on the border themself, at this point in the book the reader can relate very well to this differential portrayal of the two institutions in popular media or within their circle of friends and families too. What caught my fancy, among other things, was the portion on viranganas’ involvement in an otherwise male-dominated affair. In 2018, India’s then Union Defense minister and Human Resource Development minister inaugurated the Virangana Smarak in the Bhuj tehsil of Kutch district to mark the memorable contribution of some Patidar women of the area in rebuilding an airstrip in record time that had been bombed by the opposition forces during the 1971 Bangladesh liberation war with Pakistan. As compelling as it is to deify them as model patriots, Ibrahim doesn’t quite stop there as she speaks to some of the women who were part of the feat to bring out their narrative better. It is interesting to note that unlike how the state may want to endorse it, these women do not identify with the picture of “sacrificial mothers of the nation” imposed upon them but rather as disciplined workers who responded to their call for duty and persevered due to grit and support learnt from their army counterparts. Recital of this anecdote is one among the many examples of the signature style of this book- it challenges our one-way perception of power relations, narratives, watchfulness, apprehension etc.
To bring out another example of the complicated relationship between policing and hierarchies within state and society, Ibrahim moves on to discuss the spectre of a “Bengali” wife. At this end of the country, a dark-skinned, short and educated woman who is “shy” and often speaks too little (probably due to unfamiliarity with the local language) is looked at with suspicion that is two-pronged- the society watches out for “Bengali” brides just as much as the police, but for very different reasons. The fear of letting an “infiltrator” move amongst themselves (shared by the state) conflicts with the advantages (shared by families) of a bride from an unknown land (she knows very little about family secrets that can break apart a family, she is usually considered a “better” Muslim than locales, etc), the result of which is that sometimes policing in the society works in the opposite direction. Ibrahim uses these situations to demonstrate how people may sometimes want to know which one is a “Bengali” bride amongst them to then collectively conceal this fact from authorities that may want to clamp down for security reasons. Suspicion and secrecy go hand-in-hand, as demonstrated by the use of Ibrahim’s persona of an anthropologist who is often helped out with information to sometimes seek validation or sometimes throw off suspicion.
The final chapter of this book tackles another aspect of residence and belonging on a border that rounds up the question of policing satisfactorily. Through examples of different types of refugees- the sole mover who continued to strive to convince relatives on this side of the border that he was here to stay and not “smuggle” a wife back home (Pakistan), a Pakistani Hindu family which migrated during the war (1971) in hopes of a better life but spent a large chunk of it in camps awaiting formal citizenship, to an affluent Rajput family which moved solely due to a lack of brides from their community – the book brings out a varied range of experiences with regards to acceptance, affluence, filial ties and the likes.
The book dissects components of policing on a microscopic level using examples that enrich it. If, for instance, it is fear that drives policing, the author demonstrates that this affective experience of fear, dread, lack of trust, and suspicion is not wielded solely by the institutional arm of the state alone that is responsible for policing. Furthermore, she demonstrates that even with the formal legitimacy for policing that this institution commands, it is through ties with locals that policing is most effectively carried out. Another very well cherished theme within the book- the policing of Muslims in an increasingly homogenizing state- is explored through an innovative lens. Ibrahim brings out through the examples of a “Bengali” bride often mistaken as a Bangladeshi infiltrator how Muslims on the border become both, the subject as well as agents, of policing. While the community has often been looked upon as the suspicious “other” by many authorities, the author argues that even Muslim families within themselves are not immune to policing- thus breaking free of the notion that the whole community is knit together as a consequence of being the unit of scrutiny by the state. In all, this book is a rather nuanced ethnographical account that examines not just one but three complicated themes- the intermingling of social identities, the relationship between the traditionally “policed” and those who “police”, and the anxieties and joys of life on a national border.
***
Vrinda Saxena is an economic policy researcher, interested in themes like fintech, macroeconomics, data, and the likes. She is a self-confessed fan of contemporary literature, poetry, indie music, and meaningful conversations about anything under the sun!