“Are we Christians? Who are we?” From father to son, an identity crisis

Being a refugee can force someone to abandon vital aspects of who they are, in order to be accepted in a new place. Afghan refugees in India, such as Rashid Gurbaz, often face difficult choices about their religion and origins. Focusing on the future means distancing themselves from their past.

By Shriya Roy, from New Delhi (edited by Rogerio Simoes)

Rashid Gurbaz (not his real name, for security reasons) struggles to find an answer when his younger son asks him: “What are we? Are we Christians?”. The child asks the question out of curiosity. He says people at school ask him what his religion is. It’s a strange question for Rashid because, at 33 years of age, he never discussed their religious identity with his children. While being a Muslim refugee in India in recent times comes with its share of paranoia and fear, he prefers not to transfer these feelings onto his kids. Rashid answers his son’s question by saying he can be anything he wants.

The young one, who grew up in India watching football, says: “I want to be Christian because of Cristiano Ronaldo.” The sentence makes no sense, if one were to look at it with the ambit of practicality but what is practicality when it comes to the identity of children, who have not known their own country, their culture, their religion? One might wonder.

For first-generation Afghan refugees in India, and many young parents like Rashid, the thought of passing on the fear and trauma that led them to flee Afghanistan always makes them take a step back. Rashid wants his kids to develop their own sense of identity without being burdened by the past and tied down by it.

“I don’t speak about politics in front of them. They have no idea about the persecution or the negative things that are happening in Afghanistan. But of course, sometimes they understand, by watching YouTube videos, as this information is so readily available online”, Rashid says. He wants them to grow up without hating their homeland, he adds. Situations have taken a course which have been beyond their hands, but Rashid – like many other Afghan refugees who settled in India – does not want the next generation to remember their home country with a sense of dread and trauma.

Read also: The struggle to stay: Afghans demand dignity in Pakistan and India

A forced farewell

Originally from the Ghazni province, Rashid graduated from Kabul University and secured a government job in his province. Starting off as a planning officer with the National Environmental Protection Agency in the province, he eventually became the provincial director. “I was at almost the second highest position as a civil servant in my country during that time. A lot was happening. Civil servants in Afghanistan at that time held a lot of power.”

He pursued his Master’s from Punjab University and returned for his PhD, along with his wife and kids.  But this time, his stay was marked by an unknown permanence, as the government collapsed in Afghanistan, resulting in the Taliban takeover of Kabul. “When I came to India, in 2020, I never thought that would be the last time I saw my country. I did not know it would be this forced farewell”, Rashid says, reflecting on the state of things in his home country.

In October 2023, the Afghanistan Embassy in New Delhi shut down permanently. This resulted in a huge roadblock for several refugees, whose day-to-day communication for any and every issue came to a standstill.  “With the embassy shut down, there is no formal channel of communication between here and Kabul. There is no one to hear our voice or represent us here anymore. As a research scholar, I am invited to conferences, or for research purposes to other countries as well but, without any help to get proper documentation for our visas. I lost those opportunities as well, which further affects my employment chances after the completion of my research”, Rashid explains.

The Citizenship Amendment Act (CAA) has made the process of citizenship easier for Afghan refugees, but only the Hindu and Sikh These communities form a small minority in Afghanistan, where they are harshly persecuted. While his own future in the country might be in doubt,e Rashid is happy that persecuted minority communities are able to attain a decent living in India.

“Of course, if you see the government providing some facility to others and you are still suffering because of your religion, you are bound to feel bad. But I believe this is a good opportunity for them. Having worked with them closely during my time with different civil society organisations in Afghanistan, I know how difficult it was for them back home. I am a minority here in India, so I know the pain they were in back home. And this pain is not subjective. It is a result of historical negligence”, Rashid adds. 

Discrimination is an everyday reality for Rashid and other Afghan refugees living in India. “In my department at my university, I see other research scholars being preferred over me when it comes to conferences, workshops, etc. They even invite scholars from abroad to talk about issues in Afghanistan, rather than asking us the Afghan scholars, who have lived through it, to talk about it. It baffles me sometimes”,  Rashid says. 

“It’s not just me who has to live with the differential treatment. I have seen my fellow scholars refusing to speak a word, or even say hello to my children when I sometimes bring them along to the department. They are kids. How can you treat them like that?”

Trying to find a silver lining out of a situation that puts you on the back foot is not easy.  Like many others, Rashid tries to keep a positive outlook, also because of his two children, both of whom have now spent their growing-up years in India and have no memory of their homeland.

Family under the Taliban

It’s been four years since Rashid left his home and settled in India, but the persecution in Afghanistan continues. He says, that, for his parents and siblings, who remained in the country after the Taliban takeover, life has been a new nightmare each day. Rashid’s father has been imprisoned by the regime and his mother and sisters had to flee their home to another city and hide. Thousands of miles away, in the Indian state of Kerala, Rashid cannot help but worry about them. He eagerly waits for news, any news. “It’s a very difficult time for us. The regime has started following a new policy where they persecute the family members of those who have stood against them, and continue to do so. Some of us who have been an active part of the protest movements and civil society in Afghanistan now live in constant fear of getting a call telling us something bad happened to our family.”

Facing challenges in their new country, while worrying about the situation in their place of birth, Rashid asks himself what to expect from authorities or people he meets and works with every day. “I don’t expect too much, but I expect that you as individuals, as people of this country, treat refugees like humans. Being nice to someone, and treating them well does not take too much. It’s the bare minimum. And that is all that I expect.

He keeps an eye in the future, for the sake of his kids’ generation. “I see the discrimination I face on a daily basis, at work, wherever I go. I see how people look at us. And all I want is for my kids or anyone from the next generation to not have to go through these same things.”

Rashid’s words capture the thoughts and emotions of so many other Afghan refugees, not just in India and Pakistan, but across the world. Carrying sadness, trauma, and hope within themselves, they constantly battle to assert their identity and fight for basic dignity, day in, day out.

Top image: The Bhogal area, in New Delhi, where many Afghan refugees live. Photo by Shriya Roy

Read also: The struggle to stay: Afghans demand dignity in Pakistan and India