Rahul Bedi 
Chandigarh: The bizarre ‘flagpole’ rivalry, currently raging between India and Pakistan along their solitary official land-border crossing at Wagah, is the latest in a long and ever widening list of competitive sports between the antagonistic neighbours.
India’s newly erected 418 feet high flagpole at Wagah, likely to be formally inaugurated and capped with a flag on Thursday by Union transport minister Nitin Gadkari, stands 18 feet higher than Pakistan’s in this enduring ‘one-up flagpole-ship’ between the two sides.
Costing around Rs 3.5 crore, this flagpole replaces the 360-foot high one India had first installed at the same location in March 2017. In response, Pakistan had mounted a 400 feet tall flagstaff a few months later, resulting in the latest Indian retaliation of installing one even higher.
And in a reply that is certain to follow, Pakistan, according to that country’s Express Tribune, is now expected to raise its border flag ‘even higher than that of its arch rival’ and best the 418 foot high flagpole in this seemingly endless – and senseless – contest.
However, India’s new flagpole has been a source of discomfiture for locals and visitors for many months now, as it has been without a flag, while the Pakistani standard of the Star and Crescent dominates the landscape on both sides of the border, visible for long distances.
“We see the Pakistani flag 8-9 km from the border and feel disheartened about it,” Wagah farmer Jaspal Singh told the Times of India recently. We may have the higher flagpole, but no flag, which is embarrassing, he added. Over the years, media reports – albeit questionable – from either side of Wagah have claimed that the respective flags can, on a clear day, be seen from Amritsar and Lahore that are 31 km and 22 km respectively from the frontier.
Officials from the National Highways Authority of India, that built the flagpole, declined to comment on the missing flag, but privately conceded that some ‘technical issues’ had hindered its hoisting. They claimed that these had now been resolved and that the tricolour would imminently be raised atop it.
India had earlier faced problems with its 120 feet wide flags, as each one costing around Rs 15 lakh, had suffered tears within a few weeks of being hoisted due to blistering winds that swept the area. It was further estimated that it would annually cost India nearly Rs 2 crore to replace them, as domestic regulations stipulate that a damaged flag cannot be flown.
Some officials had suggested the installation of a smaller flag to reduce wear and tear, but the Border Security Force (BSF) that mans Wagah vetoed this proposal and insisted on displaying one that was prominently visible for extended stretches on both sides of the border.
The rivalry between the nuclear-armed neighbours extends well beyond flagpoles into multiple facets on either side of their volatile frontier. It stretches further than diplomatically and strategically finessing each other – for example by acquiring more sophisticated materiel than the other and even conducting tit-for-tat nuclear tests (Pakistan undertook six to India’s five in May 1998) – to mundane, everyday matters.
Each country claims to grow a greater variety of sweeter mangoes, melons and grapes than the other, produce better music and television programmes and even entertain, dress and keep a better table than those across the border. Pakistanis claim Indians are far less hospitable and pride themselves on a keener sense of humour and irreverence, higher intellect and finer sense of tehzeeb or etiquette than their neighbours.
However, one domain in which most Pakistanis willingly, but grudgingly, accept Indian supremacy is Bollywood, the world’s largest movie bazaar. They reluctantly acknowledge that Lollywood, Pakistan’s forever nascent film industry based out of Lahore, is a poor imitation of the Mumbai film industry.
But not to be cowed, they reassure themselves by pointing out that for decades a majority of Bollywood’s icons have been Muslims like the recently deceased Yusuf Khan, better known as Dilip Kumar, Shah Rukh Khan, Salman Khan, Amjad Khan and Aamir Khan. Muslim Bollywood actresses like Katrina Kaif and Shabana Azmi too are household names in Pakistan, with most of their films hits in that country.
Both sides believe that their sporting prowess in cricket and hockey, which Indians and Pakistanis had played with dexterity as one before independence, is superior to the other. Similar sentiments applied to esoteric games like polo and equestrian sports like tent-pegging and show jumping.
Cricket matches between the neighbours are particularly tense events – as was apparent over the weekend – almost mirroring their military rivalry, as the losing side faces the ire of millions of fans in either country. Over years, this has often turned nasty for the losing team returning home, especially in Pakistan. The victorious cricketing or hockey side, on the other hand, is lauded and lavished with accolades and financial rewards for having bested the ‘enemy’.
“The rivalry between Indians and Pakistanis arises not so much from being different, but from being somewhat similar,” said a former Indian diplomat previously posted in Islamabad. This, he added, locked them into an unending competitive cycle to outdo one another in all spheres and to portray the other side as lesser beings in this complex relationship.
India’s late foreign, defence and finance minister Jaswant Singh felt similarly, declaring that both countries shared a common heritage which they went to great lengths to deny for political, nationalistic and religious reasons. “India, Pakistan (and Bangladesh) are from the same womb,” he had stated some years ago, adding that they had an ‘intrinsic’ bonding at a time when such sentiments were considered ‘unacceptable’ to voice.
The aggressive competition between India and Pakistan, however, showcases itself conspicuously at Wagah, where the flagpole competition is raging, when impeccably turned-out border guards lower their respective flags daily at sunset.
Specially instructed BSF personnel, selected for their height, fierce moustaches and military bearing, and similarly recruited but salwar-and-kameez sporting Pakistan Rangers, try and outdo one another in marching, pirouetting and screaming ear-splitting commands, as they go about their flag lowering.
Their spectacular theatrics that take place in amphitheatre-like surroundings, backed by robust commentary from accomplished comperes and patriotic songs, are lustily cheered by thousands of spectators on either side of the frontier. Over years, these daily performances for which tickets are sold have become hugely popular, and are rated highly on the tourist circuit in both countries.
After the border gates shut at sunset, Pakistani and Indian nationals, separated by a few hundred yards of no-man’s land, shout out to each other extolling the performance of their border guards as well as their overall superiority.