I was recently fortunate enough to enjoy the company of the tireless Desmond Tutu during a session on post-conflict resolution. An interesting anecdote he mentioned was his experiences with a few Muslim communities undergoing oppression or other difficulties. He noted their hospitality, constant smiling and optimism and interestingly their propensity to have a laugh and a joke at their situations despite often terrible tragedy.

Actually all Muslims will be able to relate to this. We spend an awful amount of time laughing at ourselves and our deficiencies. Sure, much of our situation is no laughing matter particularly with the loss of so much innocent life around the world but a true observation is still a true observation however bizarre it might seem.

Tutu was referring to much of the African scene in particular Sudan and Somalia. But yesterday was the turn of the NWFP Pathans.

During a large gathering of Pathans from the much troubled region of Swat and surrounding areas, we reminisced together over the last few years “back home” and it was fascinating to reflect on key stages of the fitnah as it developed with the “Taliban”.

You see, the Pathans of Pakistan are generally a very simple and straightforward people. They don’t have many needs and they are orthodox and conservative by nature. When it comes to “Allah and His Messenger said…” then they are instantly obedient. Some might get lazy with respect to application and practice but very few Pathans will try to use their ‘aql and overcome the texts as is the wont of the modernists today. This is reflected in the fact that up to now, percentage wise, the Pathans suffer minimal liberalist and modernist deviations in religion compared to their counterparts. But on the flip side, they suffer a high percentage of problems due to the other end of the scale: extremism.

Many Maulvis and Mujahideen have taken advantage of this favourable state of circumstances. For the basic Pathan, hospitality of the stranger is a must, even if he be an enemy. Much money is spent supporting Jihad, supporting the families of those widowed or orphaned in war, and for students studying Islam in the local Madaris. Clearly, this is a dream situation for those extreme deviants and terrorists amongst us, abusing the sincerity of the locals and destroying the good name of the people of Jihad and the teachers of Islam in the Masajid.

During the gathering – a mixture of British Pathans, those who have recently returned from holiday and those who have been successful in fleeing the region – we recounted how these very Taliban who were slicing the throats of locals and our family members opposed to their ideology were the very same ones who we would be sending freshly cooked naan to every evening over the last few years when the call from the Taliban was for straightforward Shari‘ah in the region – something which all the locals were generally delighted to have – and not the declaration of takfeer and the shedding of innocent blood it has turned into now.

One who has just returned from the region talked about how his life savings have been lost as his house was taken over by the Taliban. The women and children of the house were kicked out and told to find other accommodation as a Taliban commander moved in with his own family to the main section, and then had the guest quarters of the house converted into a makeshift hospital for Taliban fighters, complete with ambulances and even forcing an elderly Babu of the village to tend to the injured which he was happy to do.

Word quickly reached the army of this new location and then in typical Pakistani fashion they came and bombed the entire house out of existence killing all the occupants, the injured, the helpers, the local villagers in the surrounding houses and leaving just the burning ambulances in the courtyards.

He started laughing. “Kasmai, we complain about American missiles being off-target but you should see our boys!”

He then stopped and there was silence. A few more people give their own stories of how their houses and valuables have been destroyed either by the Taliban or the Army in the last few months. My own father chipped in: our guest quarters have been destroyed, our water tank has been broken, our windows shattered, all by the army and their gunships. As for the Taliban then they’re trying to force their way into our cellar and want us to get rid of all our onions so that they can use it as a store-room! Cue the laughter again.

One said to my father, “Hold on, while we all used to sacrifice cows and sheep for them when they’d come through the village, wasn’t it you who actually sacrificed a camel for them back then?!” Cue the laughter again. And I’m talking hysterics.

One exclaimed how his house was taken yesterday by the Taliban. “How much are you charging him in rent?” I asked. Cue laughter.

Another said, “My brother called yesterday and said that things were not good. The Taliban are going around the houses and demanding two naans per household. We gave them six of course!” Cue laughter.

Then another one piped up, “Did you hear about the five Taliban the villagers caught in Kanju township? The ones who “halal-ed” so n’ so a few weeks before? Well by Allah, they were all found, killed and hung up in the main street and their bodies have remained there because no-one wants to bury these criminals. Who do these dogs think they are?! We respected them, looked after them, supported them and they repay us by cutting our necks?! What do they think? That after all this dies down, will any one of them be left alive? That we won’t take “Badla”? We will pursue them for generations!”

Silence. Nods of agreement. Serious and stern looks on the faces of everyone there. Then, my father gives me that special look.

“So who wants tea and who wants juice then?” I asked.

Tears. Laughter. Just another day.