Sunday, November 20, 2011

Pakistan: 

A Personal History


Selective moral outrage in this part memoir, part history
suggests Imran Khan is playing to a powerful right wing

Imran Khan’s political star is on the rise in Pakistan.
Just as he did in his two-decade-long cricket career,
he is once again dazzling a fractured nation. This time,
his aim is not for the bat, but the ballot box.
But will Khan win in a nation that is dominated by
feudal politics,corruption, nepotism, old parties
and military interference?

Khan’s support among Pakistan’s kingmakers,
the media and military intelligence, combined
with his high poll ratings, are beginning to yield
 results in the form of vast gatherings of people
who attend his rallies. He is filling a political
vacuum in a land where there are few leaders.
His recent book, Pakistan: A Personal History,
is part memoir and part history, but it is mainly
his manifesto for creating change in Pakistan.



In the interests of full disclosure, I should mention that 
I met with Khan last month in London, thanks to my friend 
Jemima Khan, his former wife. He gave me a copy of his 
book, and we spoke about Sufism and his attraction towards it. 
Explaining the draw of this gentler, softer Islam of the hearts, 
he is sincere in person, as he is when he writes about it. 
Unlike Cat Stevens, the singer who converted to a more 
hardline, activist form of Islam, Khan’s rediscovery of his 
more contemplative faith has been steered by a spiritual 
mentor, Mian Bashir. 
Khan writes movingly of mystical encounters. 
He quotes extensively from Sufi philosophers such as Iqbal, 
and is comfortable within the Sufi tradition. But this quest 
does not extend to other aspects of Islam.


In his book, Khan adopts popular Pakistani thinking on 
Islamic politics without applying his critical faculties as 
well as he does on other areas of his religion and politics. 
For example, he writes: “Islam is not just a religion to 
be practised privately by individuals, but a way of life. 
The Quran lays out clear rules for how a society should 
be governed, and guidance on how people should behave.” 
This slipping into Islam-as-state-and-society is the mistake
 that extremists make, and then demand we all conform to. 
Fortunately, the Koran does not specify systems of governments, 
and uses the Arabic word dean, or religion, to describe Islam, 
Christianity and Judaism. So Islam is, like others, a religion – 
it does not demand theocracy.

But Khan is not always wrong. He claims, justifiably, that he was
ahead of his time when he criticised the militant pursuit of the war
on terror in Pakistan and Afghanistan, and was right in calling for
peace with less extreme elements of the Taliban, and others.

That policy is now being pursued, perhaps too late, by Pakistan
and the west. Khan writes compellingly about the culture and mindset
of tribal people in Pakistan’s’ Swat valley and the North West Frontier
Province. His book gives invaluable insights into the behavioural codes
of Pashtun tribes, and the rise of Islamist radicalism in Pakistan in the
wake of ongoing CIA drone attacks.

In both his book and his political role, Khan gives voice to this rise in
anti-American radicalism among elite Pakistanis. His story is that of
Pakistan’s elite: he was educated abroad, is addicted to cricket,
comfortable in English, an admirer of the British monarch, a wearer
of western clothes and yet harbours a deep antipathy toward the west.

As a political manifesto, Khan’s book is a rallying cry to these elites.
 It is also a message to the west, about the intricacies and
complexities of a rebellious Pakistan that feels humiliated
daily by American violations of its sovereignty. But he does not ask
why Pakistan cannot control its own territory. Had it subdued its
militants, the US would not need to be involved.

Khan writes compassionately about the poor and downtrodden in
Pakistan, but he does not touch on the plight of Christian Pakistanis
who suffer daily from the discriminatory blasphemy laws that can,
almost whimsically, condemn them to death. Nor does he write
about the second-class citizenship of Pakistan’s Shia and Ahmedi
Muslims, who are barred from opportunities and routinely face
harassment both as individuals and as communities.

Khan, rightly, writes and speaks about the need for political leaders
to disclose their assets, as he has done, in order to eliminate
corruption from public life. But why does he not write about the
need for similar disclosure of the wealth of military generals?
Or that of rightwing religious leaders?

These and other selective moral outrages, and the convenient
reading of Islam,suggest that Khan might be playing to a powerful,
religious rightwing gallery in Pakistan. As such, his book helps us
comprehend that audience, and how it is shaping westernised
Pakistanis such as Imran Khan.

The writer is a senior fellow at the Council on Foreign Relations 
and author of The Islamist
Pakistan: A Personal History, by Imran Khan, Bantam Press, £20, 400 pages

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