British Asians straddling two cultures

By Navdip Dhariwal BBC News, Punjab

The involvement of British Muslims in the London bombings has drawn attention to the close links many of Pakistani origin maintain with their country of descent. Navdip Dhariwal has been to rural Punjab to meet some young Britons returning to their roots.

The Grand Trunk road runs through the heart of rural Pakistan.

Driving along it is never dull. The country's richness is reflected in the colour of the lush green fields and the rows of stalls piled high with sun-ripened mangoes.

But there are few signs of tangible wealth.

Bearded old men perch on the backs of carts, pulled along by weary donkeys. Children play bare foot in the mountains of litter - young men loiter and stare. The women who take shelter from the sun are modest and barely visible.

As I take the route through Punjab, I imagine little has changed here since the migration of thousands of Pakistanis to Britain over 40 years ago.

Tied to their roots

Today the land of their birth remains an irresistible draw to them and their children.

Asma looks every inch the Pakistani girl wearing a shelwaar kameez and a dupaatta covering her head

When I meet 21-year-old Asma she is perched on a simple rope bed.

The sound of goat's bells jingle in the distance. Her village surroundings could not be further removed from her middle-class home in Edinburgh.

Most second-generation Pakistanis come here and find themselves plunged into this unrecognisable world, yet they remain intrinsically tied to their roots.

"I somehow feel more at home here surrounded by my family," she told me.

"Your home is not where you live after all, it is where your heart is."

And Asma looks every inch the Pakistani girl wearing a shelwaar kameez and a dupaatta covering her head. I wonder how many people recognise the strength of this bond.

Asma's two brothers approached us riding rusty old bikes. They are dressed in the long shirts and loose trousers typically worn by Pakistani men.

Recruiting the young

For the extremist cause, I imagine they could appear to fit the perfect recruitment profile. Young, British and in touch with their Muslim culture.

Amid the simple brick houses dotting the countryside, you cannot fail to notice their ostentatious mansions. Most Britons sent money back home to build houses and still continue to send their children

Yasseen, the older of the two says he has never been approached by hardliners.

He is studying hard for a degree and is only here because his parents want him to learn more about his culture, but he is clearly bored and more concerned about the repercussions of the attacks on London.

Theirs is a modest family home. In the tiny courtyard Yasseen and Asma's mother looks protectively at her children.

She was horrified by the attacks and alarmed to discover the suspects came from the Pakistani community.

"Someone must have brainwashed those boys to make them do it. My own children could never be indoctrinated in such a way."

Maybe the parents of London bomber, Shehzad Tanweer, had felt as self-assured about their son.

He was the 22-year-old who blew himself up at Aldgate station killing seven people.

He too regularly travelled to Pakistan.

Devout

Last year Shehzad was seen playing cricket in the dusty alleys of this same village.

Neighbours noticed that unlike during previous visits Shehzad had become more devout.

Fasting on Fridays and praying five times a day.

He was angered by Britain's foreign policy in Iraq and Afghanistan and agitated by the situation in Kashmir.

His only visitor was Mohammad Sidique Khan, suspected of being the ringleader of Britain's first home-grown Islamic terror cell.

The links have drawn intelligence services to the British community in Pakistan.

And amidst the simple brick houses dotting the countryside, you cannot fail to notice their ostentatious mansions. Most Britons sent money back home to build houses and still continue to send their children.

Amir bears no resemblance to the Western perception of what a fundamentalist might look like. Yet he espouses conspiracy theories

In the local supermarket I met Waheed and Amir, piling cans of baked beans and cereal boxes into their shopping trolleys.

Amir's closely cropped hair and the diamond stud in his earlobe single him out as urban British Asian.

In stark contrast, with his long beard and prayer cap, Waheed mingles effortlessly with locals.

Both are from West Yorkshire - the same part of northern England that had been at the centre of investigations.

Amir bears no resemblance to the Western perception of what a fundamentalist might look like. Yet he espouses conspiracy theories and sneers.

"I do not believe those Pakistani brothers did it. This is just an excuse for the police to harass us Muslims."

How easy would it be, for those seeking fresh foot soldiers, to seduce angry young men like him?

Reconciliation

It is the broad smile of his friend Waheed that is reassuring.

"I found Allah," he said, "and it has changed my life. I think it is terrible what is happening in Iraq, and I love Pakistan, but I am British and I am proud of it."

His round face exudes warmth and he sweats profusely in the midday heat.

"I just think it is wrong what these boys did. They do not know the true meaning of Islam."

Waheed plans on running for local elections when he returns to Britain. He hopes his move into politics will help reconcile the divide.

As I leave Pakistan it emerges that police investigating the failed bomb attacks in London a week ago believe they may be connected to east Africans.

The deadly reality is that some disaffected Muslims are turning to extremism but it is not confined to one community. The complexities of Britain's links abroad demonstrate, it is a global phenomenon.

From Our Own Correspondent was broadcast on Thursday, 28 July, 2005 at 1100 BST on BBC Radio 4. Please check the programme schedules for World Service transmission times.