I am just back from my annual visit to the heartland of America, the state of Indiana, where in a small farming community called Pittsboro, I celebrated Thanksgiving, the holiday peculiar to North America, with my father’s extended family. Thanksgiving is perhaps unique: it is a secular national holiday in both the US and Canada, but it is a secular remnant of the primarily religious harvest festivals of ancient times, some of which are still observed. That it occurs in Canada on the second Monday in October and in the US on the fourth Thursday of November might seem to reflect the differences in climate and the time of harvest in the two countries.
However, of course, even for simple things like national holidays, history is not so simple. In the US, the celebration has traditionally been in November since it began in the early 17th century, but not until 1863, when President Lincoln was looking for symbols of national unity during a raging and precarious civil war was Thanksgiving made a national holiday. In those days it was celebrated for the most part on the last Thursday of November. But in 1941, President Roosevelt, and the US Congress, on December 26, nineteen days after the entry of the US into World War 2, proclaimed the fourth Thursday in November as the day of Thanksgiving.
He came back to Pakistan with clashing cymbals, and we know where he ended up
For the best part of 30 years, I have spent my Thanksgivings with this part of the family. On the day, about 35-40 close and distant relatives, and a few friends, gather at my cousin’s house in Pittsboro for the traditional meal that is the central feature of modern Thanksgivings. It is “pot luck,” that is most of the families bring their specialty dish, be it roasted or fried Turkey, cranberry sauce, different potato dishes, the bread stuffing that is cooked inside the Turkey, vegetable dishes, or various desserts, in particular pumpkin and pecan pie, and that wonderful dish peculiar to Indiana, persimmon pudding. Art Buchwald, the American humorist, while he was Washington Post correspondent in Paris, once described Thanksgiving as the day that “American families sit down at a large table brimming with tasty dishes and, for the only time during the year, eat better than the French do.”
Our gathering is intergenerational; the oldest person there this year was around 92, the youngest was just over 1. One year not so long ago, the oldest was well over 90 (not the same person as this year) and the youngest was 3 days. That makes 5 generations of good Indiana citizens at the same tables most years, and just to see up close that life in the heartland goes on and families continue to remain close and dynamic is, to me, strong evidence of the endurance of the species. They are neither oblivious nor despairing of the planet’s many problems, but they concentrate on just getting on with their lives in the best fashion possible. To them, that is the best way to contribute to improving that planet.
Milam's extended family at Thanksgiving
Since we have not seen each other for a year, my cousins and I spent the following days catching up. We talked late into the night, and through the next two days, while the other tradition of Thanksgiving, American football games, unwound before us on the TV channels. At one point in a morning conversation, we were interrupted by the sound of explosions about a mile or so away. My cousin suggested that someone was shooting anvils. This was exciting! I haven’t seen anvil shooting since I visited friends on their ranch in Colorado several years ago. We rushed out to try to find the anvil shooters, but were unsuccessful. They had disappeared by the time we got to where we thought they might be.
Anvil shooting, also called Anvil firing or anvil launching, for the uninitiated, is shooting an anvil into the air using (usually) black powder, or sometimes gunpowder. It is done often using another anvil as a base, but can also be done from flat rocks of other flat surfaces that will withstand an explosive blast. “Why would anyone want to shoot an anvil into the air” asked a friend to whom I described this today. “Well just to have fun”, I replied. The type of anvil that would usually be found on a ranch or farm would weigh between 50 and 150 pounds. So shooting one into the air 100 or so feet (I have seen it done) is not without risk. One must watch carefully to make sure the anvil’s trajectory is straight up and down. Otherwise, it is wise not to observe from too close.
My curious friend said that surely I could find political acts which make noise and attract attention, but which could have unforeseen ugly consequences, for which such a silly and meaningless fun as shooting anvils would be a metaphor. (One conclusion is that it is good to have friends when short of ideas on what to write about.) And, after getting over my chagrin at the idea of anvil shooting as silly and meaningless fun, I have to admit that loud political posturing, just like anvil shooting, often ends up with a loud noise as the only result, and can get someone hurt. This is true of many countries, but I write mostly about Pakistan.
Of course, in metaphorical terms, Pakistan is littered with anvils shot into the air with great fanfare but which came down at an angle on the anvil shooters who stayed too close, or just fell to the ground silently. And in this context, there are a number of political examples. Ex-President/General Musharraf is one: he came back to Pakistan with clashing cymbals, noise mostly made by himself, and we know where he ended up. Clearly even if he is ultimately exiled rather than tried, the anvil came down on him. In fact, he had been dodging anvils for over 10 years, given the different occasions when he raised the noise level only to end up in ignominious retreat.
Musharraf’s departure heralded the advent of a PPP government that made noisy promises only to have accomplished almost nothing in 5 years in office. In fact, that government’s only accomplishment, if it can be called such, was to bring “moral hazard” to its apogee in Pakistan, by reneging on its pledges on economic and fiscal reform.
Many of the anvils shot, with a loud explosion, into the air since the PPP left office have yet to come down. They are descending swiftly, however, and appear to be in dangerous orbits. So far, the present government, which came to power with a bang (of noisy promises) has accomplished little to recommend it. It looks to leave office with a whimper, but when remains unclear. And the anvil that the PTI and PAT shot off to great foofaraw 3 months ago may also still be in the air, but it seems to be descending also on an angle. Whether it is the PTI, the PML-N, or the Pakistan Constitution that it strikes, or whether it just falls peacefully to the ground, is yet to be determined.
The author is a Senior Scholar at the Woodrow Wilson Center in Washington DC and a former US diplomat who was Ambassador to Pakistan, Bangladesh, and Chief of Mission in Liberia
