Thinkers of our times
Sadly, with the turn of the 70's began a culture of exodus of original thinkers from Pakistan’s intellectual landscape
Seventies was a fun time for someone in his twenties, the world over. Libertarianism was the order. Woodstock of 1969 was the greatest symbol of rebellion to imperial domination. The Vietnam War had to be wound down forced by popular statement of dislike, and peace was celebrated with dominating political and socially liberal attitudes. Che Guevara was a household name and young men of the time modelled themselves on him. Oxford and Cambridge had their share of the revolutionaries. Tariq Ali of Pakistan remained an iconic figure steeped in Marxism which was the most popular form of challenging convention. Flowing locks and flared clothing, for both men and women, seemed the flavour of the times. It became impossible not to be impacted by the trend.
The advent of the ’70s also saw the induction of Zulfikar Ali Bhutto (ZAB) in Pakistan as its new leader. From a rather barren political landscape of the ’60s, he ushered in an era of idealistic politics based on a socialist liberal philosophy. If a democratic turn to Pakistani politics was really made where the common man became the centre of a political process, this was that moment. ZAB helped rewrite the social contract between the state and its people. ZAB was influenced by the anti-imperial fervour of the times which became evident when he modelled his party’s political structure to replicate the Chinese example. That he changed back to a more local flavour of politics by the end in no way takes away from the liberalism that ZAB espoused.
ZAB was not only a liberal political leader, he was a mentor of such strain in political thinking. Any tradition of liberal politics that survives in the popular stream in Pakistan is due to his commitment in developing the tradition that was carried forward through the equally iconic Benazir Bhutto; significantly paling in her later years, though. Benazir herself was the product of the socially tumultuous seventies and the political culture that went with it.
The period after was carried forward by academics of the quality and reputation of Dr Feroz Ahmed and the famous Eqbal Ahmed who were not only academics but thinkers of a separate class. Sadly, with the turn of the seventies began a culture that only saw an exodus of original thinkers from Pakistan’s intellectual landscape. What is now left is at best an impoverished imitation. Social liberals pose as counterculture revolutionaries, and espouse anti-religion and anti-military sentiment as the flagship of their version of liberalism. Beyond that the pail is hopelessly empty.
Within the vernacular domain the progressives were equally vibrant and active. Ahmad Nadeem Qasmi led this tribe. Saadat Hasan Manto, however, remains their perpetual guru and holds the place of pride in liberalist literature. The ’80s saw the dominance of the Rightist strain in literary leaning when Ashfaq Ahmed and Mumtaz Mufti practically dominated the landscape and popularised Sufi thinking that gave eminence to religious leanings.
How did the military fare in this journey of varying colours? It was almost impossible to escape the impact of sociopolitical developments as those evolved. Always the centrists, with predominantly liberal social leanings, there were only two blips that marked deviations: one was under Zia when the military went overtly Right, and the other under Bhutto when it wasn’t uncommon to appear Centre-Left, and behave as such. When Bhutto was hanged, the pain was more widely shared than is usually surmised.
Intellectual development within the military, though sporadic, continued in parallel with the more focused professional development. Habits in reading are a personal matter and the few that it touched developed parallel strains of thought that are intrinsic to such evolution of political and social beliefs. It is but natural then that there were people within the military who shared reasonably mature political sentiment with those on the outside.
The ’70s was also the time of a resurgent Faiz, and Faraz, and Munir Niazi who was a compatriot of Faraz, Faiz being a generation ahead of both. Each was a bohemian, and a master in his own right; Faiz a different class; such was the richness and fertility of the times. It was impossible not to be impacted by their presence. Munir Niazi, the most cold-hearted cynic ever, with bluntness to boot, and a tongue as incisive as a scythe, had this to say of his poetic colleagues: “jitna Faraz ne Faiz ko duhraya hai, utna Faiz ne bhi apnay aap ko nahin duhraya”. There you have it for exclusivity, most blatantly expressed, yet with a touch of class.
These were the masters at play, with one another and with their people, shaping opinions, setting standards and raising the bar of discourse. Here is another: when asked, who was the best poet of his times (asr), Munir Niazi was at his proverbial best — “mein hi hoon”; unabashed and without batting an eyelid. But importantly, assured in himself and his art; and he didn’t look vulgar saying that. The class, matchless. In the vulgarity of the modern times, in a lunar landscape, the Bollywood compatible is “mein hoon na”. Going by the naked animus that has now replaced class, if asked to choose between the two it is easy to imagine which way the pendulum will swing. We live in different times.
Tailpiece: Although intended as a reflection of the past, easy on the pate, this piece must still find mention of an impending development in Afghanistan: Ashraf Ghani has been declared the ‘tentative’ new leader of Afghanistan. As expected Abdullah Abdullah has trashed the declaration on the basis of ‘industrial-scale fraud’ committed against him. Three persons must find this emerging reality hugely interesting: Hamid Karzai, who may have had a hand in instituting such manipulation of the electoral process — with no credible choice he gets to prolong his tenure at the helm; Mullah Omar, who sees his chance again at wresting the centre stage in Afghanistan, if not an outright control of Kabul; and Abu Bakr alBaghdadi, the newly ordained Islamic State Caliph who sees the first possibility of internationalising his agenda for a transnational Islamic state when a developing vacuum in Afghanistan beckons his indulgence. That makes for a formidable list. Buckle-up world, and Pakistan. The ride of your life is about to begin, unless either Ghani or Abdullah make it easy upon us, and them.
Published in The Express Tribune, July 12th, 2014.
The advent of the ’70s also saw the induction of Zulfikar Ali Bhutto (ZAB) in Pakistan as its new leader. From a rather barren political landscape of the ’60s, he ushered in an era of idealistic politics based on a socialist liberal philosophy. If a democratic turn to Pakistani politics was really made where the common man became the centre of a political process, this was that moment. ZAB helped rewrite the social contract between the state and its people. ZAB was influenced by the anti-imperial fervour of the times which became evident when he modelled his party’s political structure to replicate the Chinese example. That he changed back to a more local flavour of politics by the end in no way takes away from the liberalism that ZAB espoused.
ZAB was not only a liberal political leader, he was a mentor of such strain in political thinking. Any tradition of liberal politics that survives in the popular stream in Pakistan is due to his commitment in developing the tradition that was carried forward through the equally iconic Benazir Bhutto; significantly paling in her later years, though. Benazir herself was the product of the socially tumultuous seventies and the political culture that went with it.
The period after was carried forward by academics of the quality and reputation of Dr Feroz Ahmed and the famous Eqbal Ahmed who were not only academics but thinkers of a separate class. Sadly, with the turn of the seventies began a culture that only saw an exodus of original thinkers from Pakistan’s intellectual landscape. What is now left is at best an impoverished imitation. Social liberals pose as counterculture revolutionaries, and espouse anti-religion and anti-military sentiment as the flagship of their version of liberalism. Beyond that the pail is hopelessly empty.
Within the vernacular domain the progressives were equally vibrant and active. Ahmad Nadeem Qasmi led this tribe. Saadat Hasan Manto, however, remains their perpetual guru and holds the place of pride in liberalist literature. The ’80s saw the dominance of the Rightist strain in literary leaning when Ashfaq Ahmed and Mumtaz Mufti practically dominated the landscape and popularised Sufi thinking that gave eminence to religious leanings.
How did the military fare in this journey of varying colours? It was almost impossible to escape the impact of sociopolitical developments as those evolved. Always the centrists, with predominantly liberal social leanings, there were only two blips that marked deviations: one was under Zia when the military went overtly Right, and the other under Bhutto when it wasn’t uncommon to appear Centre-Left, and behave as such. When Bhutto was hanged, the pain was more widely shared than is usually surmised.
Intellectual development within the military, though sporadic, continued in parallel with the more focused professional development. Habits in reading are a personal matter and the few that it touched developed parallel strains of thought that are intrinsic to such evolution of political and social beliefs. It is but natural then that there were people within the military who shared reasonably mature political sentiment with those on the outside.
The ’70s was also the time of a resurgent Faiz, and Faraz, and Munir Niazi who was a compatriot of Faraz, Faiz being a generation ahead of both. Each was a bohemian, and a master in his own right; Faiz a different class; such was the richness and fertility of the times. It was impossible not to be impacted by their presence. Munir Niazi, the most cold-hearted cynic ever, with bluntness to boot, and a tongue as incisive as a scythe, had this to say of his poetic colleagues: “jitna Faraz ne Faiz ko duhraya hai, utna Faiz ne bhi apnay aap ko nahin duhraya”. There you have it for exclusivity, most blatantly expressed, yet with a touch of class.
These were the masters at play, with one another and with their people, shaping opinions, setting standards and raising the bar of discourse. Here is another: when asked, who was the best poet of his times (asr), Munir Niazi was at his proverbial best — “mein hi hoon”; unabashed and without batting an eyelid. But importantly, assured in himself and his art; and he didn’t look vulgar saying that. The class, matchless. In the vulgarity of the modern times, in a lunar landscape, the Bollywood compatible is “mein hoon na”. Going by the naked animus that has now replaced class, if asked to choose between the two it is easy to imagine which way the pendulum will swing. We live in different times.
Tailpiece: Although intended as a reflection of the past, easy on the pate, this piece must still find mention of an impending development in Afghanistan: Ashraf Ghani has been declared the ‘tentative’ new leader of Afghanistan. As expected Abdullah Abdullah has trashed the declaration on the basis of ‘industrial-scale fraud’ committed against him. Three persons must find this emerging reality hugely interesting: Hamid Karzai, who may have had a hand in instituting such manipulation of the electoral process — with no credible choice he gets to prolong his tenure at the helm; Mullah Omar, who sees his chance again at wresting the centre stage in Afghanistan, if not an outright control of Kabul; and Abu Bakr alBaghdadi, the newly ordained Islamic State Caliph who sees the first possibility of internationalising his agenda for a transnational Islamic state when a developing vacuum in Afghanistan beckons his indulgence. That makes for a formidable list. Buckle-up world, and Pakistan. The ride of your life is about to begin, unless either Ghani or Abdullah make it easy upon us, and them.
Published in The Express Tribune, July 12th, 2014.