The World of Urdu

Pervez Hoodbhoy's book on Pakistan

2024-02-23T19:41:00.000+00:00

Pakistani scholar and activist Pervez Hoodbhoy is a man on a mission. Although Hoodbhoy is a nuclear physicist, his quest for rationalism has taken him to expand the boundaries of scholarship in social sciences. He is the author of innumerable books, and his latest offering is Pakistan: Origins, Identity and Future.

From unraveling the finer threads of historical connects, to deep diving into the future of Pakistan, readers will find the book not just enlightening on the bonds that deeply tie India and Pakistan together but a cautionary tale of a political catastrophe by a religious state.

For decades now Hoodbhoy has spoken about the atrocities on minorities in Pakistan, be it Hindus, Ahmadis, Shias, or Hazaras. He is also that rare voice who is known globally for forensically examining the relationship between Islamic societies and science.

The book is expansive, ambitious in scope, and examines issues and individuals that have either been ignored or misrepresented by scholars and historians in Pakistan. It is a lucid account which gives a generous overview of the historiography, thus ensuring that it will appeal to both general and serious readers. As Christophe Jaffrelot rightly says in the introduction the book does not belong to any established genre.

Hoodbhoy proclaims that the two-nation theory is the placenta of Pakistan’s birth, which must be now thrown away as the child is born. Unfortunately, the Pakistani state insists on retaining it. His analysis focuses on examining what prevented Muslims from being competitive instead of the usual tropes of discrimination and Hindu domination.

The book is divided into five parts. In the first part, Hoodbhoy explores the period when religious identities were fuzzy and traces the various processes by which they solidified and sharpened. The different responses by the Hindus and Muslims to the challenges to modernity is a key theme of the first part. The second part is devoted to the founder of the Aligarh Muslim University, Sir Syed Ahmed Khan, poet-philosopher Allama Iqbal and M A Jinnah. The contradictions in the lives of the trinity of Pakistan’s founding figures and their positions and attitudes on important questions is an attempt to rescue them from the cottage industry of hagiographies that have come up especially for Iqbal and Jinnah.

The third part is about the years just after Partition and deploying the term "angularities" passionately dissects the problem areas of East Pakistan and Balochistan. The part that became Bangladesh was restless even when Jinnah was alive – on a visit to Dhaka in March 1948 he said that Urdu alone would be the language of the state of Pakistan, completely disregarding Bengali sensibilities. The fourth part takes forward the discussions from the earlier three parts to answer questions that are intimately linked to the way Pakistan finds itself today. This is Hoodbhoy’s lament as to why the military continues to have the upper hand, real democracy remains subjugated and the harm caused to the Pakistani society if they choose to identify themselves with invaders of the last millennium.

The last part posits what the future holds for Pakistan and how the political establishment can come together to improve the state. As said earlier, this is a book very ambitious in its scope, and sixteen chapters spread over 400 pages is a long read tackling some foundational issues. The demand or idea for Pakistan has been traced from the “rapidly decaying North Indian Urdu-speaking Muslim elite” who were called Muhajirs after they migrated to Pakistan from India. It is believed that a large section of Muhajirs further migrated from Pakistan to Europe and America. But in the years after Partition, they had a formidable presence in Karachi and lapped up important posts in the newly established state.

“In Pakistan the Muhajirs, together with Punjabis, quickly acquired hegemonic control over native populations. The army was largely Punjabi with some Pakhtuns and Muhajirs, while the bureaucracy was a mixture of Punjabis and Muhajirs. In later decades Pakhtuns and Sindhis asserted themselves more and more leading to a sense of embattlement among Muhajirs and formation of the Muttahida Qaumi Movement (MQM). Today the MQM is a shell of what it was in the 1990’s and Muhajir influence has waned across the board” he tells me.

And so has the popularity of Sir Syed who established AMU from where a large section of those who went to Pakistan were educated. Although Sir Syed remains a recognisable face the Pakistani establishment has now stopped giving him the importance he received earlier. His call to reinterpret Islamic theology in the light of science was problematic in his own time, and it has remained even today. In 2013, a book titled Sir Syed Ahmed Khan ka asli roop (The real face of Sir Syed Ahmed Khan) was published in Lahore which has contributions from Islamic clerics attacking the reformer who died in 1898.

Another figure that finds hardly any mention in Pakistan is Maulana Abul Kalam Azad. Hoodbhoy includes him in his book as one of the key figures who opposed Jinnah and the creation of Pakistan. “Maulana Abul Kalam Azad was by far the most powerful Muslim voice against the creation of Pakistan. No state should be defined by religion, he argued. For Jinnah, Azad was a turncoat Muslim who had ganged up with Hindus and he thus disparagingly referred to Azad as Congress’s show boy,” says Hoodbhoy. Interestingly, Azad himself had the ambition to become the undisputed leader of Indian Muslims, which he quietly gave up, having turned towards secularism after coming under the influence of Mahatma Gandhi.

“Azad passionately argued against the Two Nation Theory pointing to centuries of mostly peaceful Hindu-Muslim coexistence. He was remarkably prescient in pointing out that were Partition to happen, the Muslims left behind in India would discover that they had become mere aliens and foreigners in their own land. Backward industrially, educationally and economically, they would surely be left at the mercy of what, he said, would become “an unadulterated Hindu raj”. His prediction that Pakistan would ultimately break up was made long before 1971,” says Hoodbhoy.

As In the book, Hoodbhoy reminds us that the army in Pakistan has resolved to keep the country in a state of mind just short of war, I ask him about the significance of Nawaz Sharif returning to Pakistan. He tells me that the return signifies another round of hybrid rule that lies ahead. “The welcoming crowds were moderately large at his Lahore jalsa but it was well known that promises of biryani and cash was why they had assembled. The kind of spontaneous enthusiasm seen at PTI events was clearly lacking and Nawaz does not inspire Pakistan's young people. That might be a small matter - with the establishment solidly behind him for now Nawaz’s 4^th term as prime minister is, as the Americans say, a slam dunk.”

So what happens to Imran Khan? “Imran Khan, whose popularity far exceeds Nawaz’s, is in the boondocks with most of his former allies having deserted him. Some have created new parties with the deep state’s blessing. Ironically the laws enacted during his rule to suppress the opposition have come back to bite him. His political future seems to be over. But who knows? Politics in Pakistan is notoriously unpredictable and few could have imagined that Nawaz Sharif could ever have made a comeback,” he tells me. But according to Hoodbhoy, Sharif does not have a credible plan to prevent Pakistan’s economy from sliding down yet further.

Hoodbhoy describes Imran Khan’s regime as seeking to turn Pakistan into a replica of Medina state; Pervez Musharraf was for enlightened moderation; Ziaul Haq stood for Islamization and Zulfiqar Bhutto for vengeance against India. In this context, he feels one of the key questions to watch out for would be whether Sharif would again make overtures to India for regional peace.

Urdu Saiyaara: Jashn-e-Rekhta in London

2023-10-29T14:07:00.003+00:00

Ruhi Khan

The hallowed halls of a 183-year-old Westminster chapel in the heart of London, stone’s throw away from Buckingham Palace, transformed into a lush garden. Men and women, girls and boys, young and old, metamorphosed into flowers and trees, birds and bees, squirrels and butterflies, with perhaps an odd chameleon thrown in. The flora and the fauna then witnessed the unfolding of a masterpiece.

With Love, Aap Ki Saiyaara brings to life a story so new and yet as old as time; a voice so silent yet screaming loud; a life never experienced yet lived again and again.

Meet Saiyaara:

A star born; much-loved daughter considered a blessing from the heavens.
A naive teenager led astray by her old professor, married and divorced in the blink of an eye. An innocence lost; a dream shattered.
A young budding entrepreneur courted by an eminent doctor, followed by a whirlwind romance and a dream wedding. Then chastised and cheated, bruised and battered. A trust broken; a mind traumatised.
A mature woman in control of her destiny, navigating life’s unpredictable terrains, both personal and professional, with humour and honour.

Juhi Babbar Soni, not just plays the protagonist Saiyaara, but puts the soul in her character, that was conceived by her mother Nadira Zaheer Babbar. The Urdu play was written and directed by Juhi for Ekjute Theatre Group. And it is such a beautifully written play! Every word has its weight in gold, every emotion on Juhi’s face speaks volumes. The play is almost a monograph, with Saiyaara delving into her painful past, heart-breaking and infuriating. Yet it’s not defeatist, but empowering and hopeful. Oh! And watch out for a surprising cameo by a veteran Bollywood star whose love for Urdu is legendry.

With Love, Aap Ki Saiyaara highlights societal problems, challenges gender stereotypes and is a flag-bearer of feminism. A feminism that does not pitch women against men, but the progressives against patriarchy. I watched the play at Jashn-e-Rekhta in London, had a lovely chat with Juhi about Mumbai and Uttar Pradesh, Bollywood and feminism. Juhi's passion for her art shines in her demeanour and she humbly credits her success to hard-work and talent which she admits is a virasat from her incredibly talented and popular parents – Nadira Zaheer and Raj Babbar.

You can catch another performance of Aap ki Saiyaara on November 5 at Waterman’s Arts Centre in London.

Rekhta in London

Yes, Rekhta has gone international and had a very successful launch in London on 28 October with the Westminster Chapel packed to the brim. What an accomplishment by Rekhta’s Huma Khalil and Sanjiv Saraf who brought together Urdu connoisseurs and amateurs from across countries in South Asia united in their love for a language that for centuries linked hearts and minds. And of course, to their many supporters in London including BBC journalist Pervaiz Alam who took to the podium to run the event and Irfan Mustafa who managed the logistics in the background and the many others who happily took up the mantle to make this event a success.

Jashn-e-Rekhta London had a plethora of shows from panel discussions on Urdu language and Aadaab to traditional storytelling forms like Dastangoi, followed by Mushaira and Ghazals. Each event saw doyens of Urdu take to the stage with some enchanting poetry and enthralling performances.

Having heard Dastangoi for the very first time, I must say, I was very impressed by the almost breathless form of storytelling by the duo Mahmood Farooqui and Darain Shahidi. My favourite was obviously the Rajasthani folklore about man’s hubris, and how a young Thakurain outdoes all the ‘great’ men in an ‘impossible’ challenge. It reinforces how women with beauty and wit could just rule the roost.

A light-hearted but thought-provoking banter between Saif Mahmood and the legendary Arfa Sayeeda Zahra on Urdu’s linguistic brilliance and its place in the world was such a treat in not just lessons on Urdu but on life.

The Mushaira was absolutely entertaining as ten poets took to the stage with their original poetry. I was very impressed by Uruj Asif’s heartfelt poem on the insensitivity towards asylum seekers undertaking dangerous channel crossings often meeting a watery grave and another on her trip back in time through a book into 12^thcentury Baghdad reflecting on how some things have not changed in almost 1000 years. Hilal Fareed’s passionate nazm on the state of affairs in the world spoke truth to power and Pallav Mishra’s poetry was simply a beauty in antithesis. Irfan Kamil read his poem Nimmo on popular demand from a diaspora missing home, whereas Basir Kazmi’s aat se panch (8-5) left the audience in splits.

The night ended with an Orchestral Qawwali by London-based Abi Sampa, Rushil Ranjan and troupe, who blended beautifully Sufi poetry with an orchestral octet. The tabla solo won the audience.

As the curtains are drawn, I am reminded of the words of the very wise Arfa Sayeeda Zahra: “For Urdu to survive it needs to breathe”. Literary salons like this provide the much-needed oxygen.

Ruhi Khan is a journalist, author and fellow of the Royal Society of Arts

Remembering V Gangadhar

2023-10-15T15:55:00.004+01:00

V Gangadhar, who passed away on 9 October, 2023. Pic courtesy: The Hindu

V Gangadhar was a good teacher to journalism students. He must have taught hundreds of aspirants in Bombay. He was particularly good at bursting myths of what it took to be a good journalist - you do not need a degree in English literature, reporters do not don a kurta with a jhola, leg work will always be important though you can be a smart worker. A fine observer of people, and an objective journalist that he was, he would also add that all of the above could be equally untrue!

Unlike several other teachers he wouldn't bother to keep on stressing that journalism students need to read everything they can lay their hands on. His attitude was if you do not read why do you want to be a journalist.

I had the fortune of attending his lectures at Bombay College of Journalism, Churchgate where he would take a weekly class. Gangadhar was a prolific writer, and during that period was a regular columnist for Mid Day, The Daily, Reader's Digest, Hindu. In Mid Day he was the only one at that time to review the media. Every week he would comment on the stories that appeared in other newspapers and occasionally that would also include Mid Day.

Referring to Shilpa Shetty's front page picture in Mid Day holding a tennis racquet, he wrote he was surprised to see it considering the editor himself was a sports journalist who played with a straight bat. Sounds arcane now, isn't it? Bombay Times had not become what it became later, so the front page was still a precious commodity. It was nice of Mid Day to publish both Amita Malik and V Gangadhar who provided a delightful round up of the media scene. I think Malik's was a syndicated column and looked at the national press, while Gangadhar's pieces were Mumbai centric.

As far as I remember he would come for the lectures with no bags. The only accompaniment would be a book which he would read on the train journeys from his home to Churchgate and back. "I wish I could know more about humour writing in our regional languages. I know about Pu La but of course I cannot read Marathi," he said once while discussing satire and humour in English.

But Gangadhar was at his best taking us through the rigours of reporting. With some amazement and delight he shared how the Times of India hired lathi-wielding guards for him as he faced risk of assault from the goons of a builder he had exposed. "I am really grateful to the Times." He was on the staff of Times of India in the 1970s, which was pointed out by senior journalist Vidyadhar Date in a Facebook post, but for the students in the class he was only known as a freelance writer. He had left full time work for a long time.

"There is only that much space at the top so as it happens people branch out," he told me once. I do not know if it was calculated, but inevitably he would share the most delightful piece of gossip just before he would enter the platform at Churchgate station. "Oh they worked so closely, so their relationship was always talked about. But one never knows."

One constant tip he would give students was to approach news editors for internships and jobs. And what would seem by some of us as too ambitious, he would also suggest writing a piece that could be printed as middle in the TOI. Newspaper editors are always on the lookout for well-written and compelling piece of work he would tell us. Eager to know what he thought of my piece, he said, "Not bad." I gathered that if he had said that twice, it would have meant nice, but I had to make do with a single "Not bad".

Gangadhar was a simpleton, but had a wide interest. His lectures were peppered by anecdotes of Sunil Dutt's embarrassment to kneel in front of a female star leaving his face in an awkward position in front of the whole film unit, and the challenges of teaching English in Gujarat. After some controversy relating to English language in Gujarat schools, he swiftly wrote a very funny piece in Mid Day explaining why the teaching model of A etla Apple meant Gujaratis had problems in English language skills. A piece he wrote in Outlook was commented upon by Amitabh Bachchan on twitter to the effect that senior journalist Gangadhar did not seem pleased his work/film.

He was also a very humble person. Once he took a few students to the Nehru Centre to attend a discussion which had scholar Rafiq Zakaria as a speaker. After the event he walked up to him, and introduced himself, "Good evening, I am Gangadhar." Rafiq Zakaria replied, array haan bhai Gangadhar, kaise ho. I bumped into him near Lilavati Hospital and was thrilled that he remembed me and had read my reports in Mid Day and Mumbai Mirror.

Thank you Gangadhar sir for all the lectures, and for warning us that journalism does not pay that well. So many of us still took the plunge.

Memorialising Manto in Mumbai

2023-02-27T17:39:00.002+00:00

Every city has its share of iconic writers who come to be associated with the fabric of its inner life. In the case of Mumbai, aided by large scale and multiple translations in English, Urdu writer Saadat Hasan Manto has over the last two decades emerged as one of the most admired and perceptive observer of the city’s underbelly. Manto’s short stories, essays, and sketches are a masterclass on how to chronicle the quotidian in a near art form.

The first wave of Manto’s popularity emanated from his Partition stories. He himself left Bombay for Lahore reluctantly in 1948 having lived in the city he loved the most for over a decade working as a journalist, short story writer and scriptwriter. And it was sitting in actor Ashok Kumar’s car, going through a crowded Muslim locality, that the anxiety and fear that came with Partition hit him hard as he was worried about their safety.

Manto’s haunting stories about Partition offer a direction to break away from the kind of history, that academic Prof Faisal Devji says, are “written as a police report or judicial decision to make someone ‘responsible’ for it.” Manto, and his contemporaries, who wrote about the human cost of the Partition in stark details in their stories, brought much more nuance than statistics and official figures could ever do. But Manto was more than the Partition and the ‘obscene’ stories that gained him notoriety and court cases. As author and literary critic Rakshanda Jalil observed in a piece, “There is more to Manto than ‘Thanda Gosht’, ‘Khol Do’ or ‘Kaali Shalwar’ – stories that offended many on grounds of perversion and obscenity.”

Manto came to Bombay in 1936 to edit the weekly film newspaper Musawwir working from its offices at Clare Road in Byculla. At the Nagpada-end of the road was his favourite restaurant Sarvi which is still going strong and is the end point for walking tours especially those that seek to trace Manto’s presence on Mumbai’s streets. Those were the days of film studios and he got his break in the film world at Imperial Film Company. In 1937, Village Girl was released for which he wrote the script and dialogue.

Manto also briefly worked for Baburao Patel’s film magazine, before he went to Delhi in 1941 to work at AIR. He made more connections there, but Bombay was where his heart was and he came back to the city in 1942. In his second innings, he followed the same path of editing a magazine and writing for film studios. The death of his infant son in Delhi had broken him.

Among the numerous stories that Manto wrote I find Mammad Bhai to be really poignant. The story is about a street ruffian who shaved his moustache to escape punishment for a murder. This is not a story that can be written unless you have lived and spent time around such people, which is what Manto did. And then the title of the story. Mammad is the Bambaiya-inflected-heavily-drawn-on-Gujarati version of Mohammad. Usually it would be difficult for an Urdu writer who was not born or grew up in Bombay to resist changing Mammad to Mohammad. But just like his Partition stories where victims and perpetrators were not typecast, Manto’s chronicles of Bombay stayed true to what he saw and observed. There was no artificiality.

Journalist, and Manto translator Aakar Patel met the writer’s daughter who told him that till the 1980s she had no idea what a big writer her father was. In Pakistan where he died in 1955 at the age of 43, the establishment did not relish his writing which was deemed lewd and in some cases disrespectful to the newly-carved nation state. There’s much written about how he remained at the periphery of the Progressive Writers’ Association, whose members, hypocritically, characterised some of his stories as obscene. But it’s not that Manto craved the Progressive tag either.

All this took a heavy toll on his life, and financial insecurity remained a constant feature. Much of the tension and dilemma that Manto faced has been examined by historian Ayesha Jalal who is his grandniece. She notes that Pakistani officialdom continues to represent Manto as a “pornographer and a socially subversive writer.”

“The chasm between the lack of state sponsorship, if not outright disapproval of his writings, and the growing ranks of Manto enthusiasts made for a creative tension that has served the cause of Urdu literature better than any formal official endorsement would have allowed.” Manto scholars and readers will obviously differ on the choice of their favourite stories, but there is no difference on the point that Bombay was Manto’s favourite city. He lived in Amritsar, Lahore, Delhi and Aligarh, but nothing came close to Bombay.

Patel believes that Manto’s portrayal of Bombay is one of its kind and that no writer understood Bombay as well as him, not even Behram Contractor. Salman Rushdie has called him the undisputed master of the modern Indian short story.

Sadly, for a writer who is enjoying a resurgence due to multiple translations, timelessness of his work and exciting re-assessments of his writings, there is (no physical commemoration) not a road or chowk named after him. Interestingly, Clare Road which was his haunt has been renamed Mirza Ghalib Marg, a poet he admired a lot. A journalist – Hafiz Ali Bahadur Khan – who Manto blamed for being a rabble rouser during communal disturbances too has a road named after him just a short distance away from Clare Road.

Urdu scholar, translator and linguist Dr Abdus Sattar Dalvi told MoneyControl that usually writers and philosophers are way down the pecking order to have roads or streets named after them. “I count myself lucky as live off Krishan Chander Marg in Bandra and I occupied the inaugural Krishan Chander chair in Urdu at University of Bombay.”

Krishen Chander, a prominent writer, was a contemporary of Manto and they worked at All India Radio in Delhi. Lyricist Kaifi Azmi, journalist and writer Khwaja Ahmed Abbas, and Abdul Hamid Ansari, founder of Urdu newspaper Inquilab are other contemporaries of Manto who have roads/chowks named after them.

Earlier this week, Maharashtra chief minister Eknath Shinde announced the decision to rename Mumbai's Churchgate Station after India's first Reserve Bank of India governor C.D. Deshmukh As naming of streets, stations and other landmarks after public figures goes, writers - of stories and films - are usually pretty low down the pecking order.

Three weeks ago, a chowk in Mumbai's Bhendi Bazaar was named after Khilafat Movement leader Maulana Muhammad Ali Jauhar. Perhaps it's time Mumbai had a Manto Marg?

This piece was originally written for Money Control which can be read here

When Prince Charles told Amjad Ali Khan, 'I cannot vouch for my legacy, but your legacy will continue'

2023-01-17T01:31:00.004+00:00

Amaan Ali Bangash & Ayaan Ali Bangash with Anubrata Chatterjee on the tabla at Taj St James's Court

Few years ago, when Amaan Ali Bangash and Ayaan Ali Bangash performed for the then Prince Charles at High Grove Estate, the latter took to the microphone and told sarod maestro and their father Amjad Ali Khan, "I cannot vouch for my legacy, but your legacy will continue"

On Wednesday (11 January 2023), the senior Khan recounted the incident at Taj St James's Court, London to a wide applause in a conversation with Amish Tripathi, celebrated author and Director of Nehru Centre.

It was an evening of magic and splendour, which consisted of live performance by the brothers followed by a small tutorial on the intricacies of Indian classical music in the form of a Q&A.

"India is the only country where we have two traditions of classical music. I often say that I am not very comfortable to call it Hindustani and Carnatic as if Carnatic is not Hindustani. I do not know why these terms were created. It should be called Indian classical music of North India and Indian classical music of South India," said Amjad Ali Khan.

Amaan and Ayaan belong to the seventh generation of a musical lineage and the audience got a glimpse of their brilliance in the just over 30 minutes of their performance. The brothers came across as humble and grounded obliging people with pictures and responding to compliments by thanking people for taking time out to see them perform.

Amjad Ali Khan joined his sons for a conversation with Amish Tripathi

Just two days earlier, the family whose ancestors invented the sarod six generations before, performed at Wigmore Hall where the Indian high commissioner to UK, Vikram Doraiswami was among those present in the audience. It was described as an east-meets-west celebration.

"Swar hi Ishwar hain," said Amjad Ali Khan, as he expounded on how he has great regard for European music. The collaboration between East and West, he said "is a beautiful bouquet of our love and respect to the world. We have the freedom in our family to listen to any kind of music." Although it was only Amaan and Ayaan who performed accompanied by tabla player Anubrata Chatterjee, the 77-year-old Amjad Ali Khan made it up with his witty and sharp answers.

A member of the audience asked Subhalakshmi Barooah Khan, Amjad Ali Khan's wife, and mother of Amaan and Ayaan, why she didn't get her sons to pursue any dance form considering she is an acclaimed Bharatnatyam dancer herself. "I don't like men dancing," she quipped before adding she can anyway make them dance to her tune in the house. On a serious note she said, she felt her sons had more to give to the world through the sarod which they learnt from their father at a young age.

Mehrnavaz Avari, Head of Taj's UK operations and Sudhir Sharma, SBI London Regional Head felicitated the family

At the Taj St James's Court it was truly her sons who made those present dance to their music!

Ian Jack, Fleet Street's last autodidact who never had a dull sentence in his columns

2022-11-29T01:27:00.003+00:00

Ian Jack was a magnificent writer. His prose reflected his insatiable curiosity and masterly hold over the written word. I never missed Ian's column in the Guardian because they were a delight to read. I had the fortune of knowing him, but it was not difficult to imagine what kind of a person Ian was reading his columns.

Soft spoken, humble, well read, railway aficionado, ship gazer, distinctive ability to evoke nostalgia, Islington resident, special affection for Scotland, deep connection with India (Calcutta), foreign correspondent, autodidact, hired as a sub by the legendary Harold Evans.

A long spell as Guardian columnist somewhat obscured his superb innings as the Sunday Times's foreign correspondent in India in the 1980s. Guardian had become his natural home and it was almost impossible to see him write anywhere else. Although, I would like to believe that that's not how he would like to see himself.

Having heard (and also seen some reporters) in my initial days in Bombay that a university degree was not a prerequisite to land a job in journalism (it had become a rarity though), becoming the Editor of Granta was a spectacular achievement. Although I must say, he had some stories of those-who-thought-of-themselves-as-exceptionally-gifted-writers-because-they-went-to-Oxbridge. Ian didn't, not to any university. That also made him the last in the tradition of those who worked on Fleet Street without a university degree.

Industrial Britain was of special interest to him. That provided him the entry point for the elegy to the vanished ship industry, the mighty factories, and the communities and cities that hosted them. And inevitably it would have colonialism and empire featuring prominently. Not only did he teach the press coverage of the Bengal famine, but also wrote about Madusree Mukherjee's book on Churchill.

Curiously, Ian remarkably stayed away from the culture wars that readers are regularly inflicted by both the tabloids and broadsheets. That also perhaps explains why someone like Ian couldn't get the top attention or a better updated landing page on the Guardian. But then there aren't many who could write about Brexit and Nirad Chaudhury in the same piece, expound on Sat Isabgol, closely examine the street trees in London, and write on the politics of remembering in the wake of the killing of Lee Rigby.

I came in touch with him when I was doing my MA at King's India Institute. He taught one module, but I remained eager to continue that process. Sunak's not from the Richmond you think, he corrected me, his constituency is in Yorkshire. Over the years, I kept in touch over mails, meeting very rarely. Sporadic text messages from me would be answered even more sporadically. He took my call when I sought his views on the night when the Scottish referendum votes were to be counted.

He invited me for lunch a few years ago, where his friends Nasreen Munni Kabir and Urvashi Butalia were there along with his wife Lindy. On another occasion I had gone to interview him, and he was kind enough to drop me and the cameraperson to Highbury station as it was pouring and cold. When I was in Glasgow to cover the Commonwealth Games (well, not actually the games, but the arrest of a member of the Indian contingent on charges of sexual assault), I called him as he had said he would be in the city. I couldn't meet, but he reminded me of the timing of the last train to London!

I found it odd that he had his email with a very obscure provider. He didn't use a smartphone (at least not when I last saw him) and preferred to be called on the mobile and not on the landline.

I did call him on the landline though when I spoke to him sharing the news of the passing away of Vinod Mehta - no, I didn't know Vinod Mehta, neither was I someone in a position to reminisce with Ian about his comradeship with Vinod, I had called to get his comments for a news channel, which he gave.

I gathered that Ian also admired V S Naipaul for the books that he wrote, of course. As someone who spent time in India as a foreign correspondent, he admired Naipaul's prose on Indian society. I remember discussing his description of Dharavi. And it was with some flourish that he recounted the meeting with Bal Thackeray that never happened, and the flight to Pakistan from Delhi in very interesting circumstances.

As the Spectator noted: "Jack goes, sees, looks and thinks; and his subsequent reflections are of timeless interest." It is remarkable that Ian didn't write a book - all that he published were collections of his columns, news reports, unpublished writings. Four such marvellous books were published and are testament to a rich spectacle of how his columns and news reports effortlessly transcended journalism, attaining the status of literature and history.

There was never a dull sentence in Ian Jack's columns.

Ian Jack born 7 February 1945, died 28 October 2022

Ian Jack in Guardian

Ian Jack in Independent on Sunday

Ian Jack in London Review of Book

The smiling Maulana Abul Kalam Azad

2021-11-11T19:35:00.000+00:00

Maulana Abul Kalam Azad's pictures that are usually available on the internet or in books, newspapers rarely show him smile or laugh. Which is why on the occasion of his birth anniversary, I was reminded of this smiling photo, from my small collection, which I thought of sharing.

Azad, like several of his contemporaries, remains unexplored and the first work on Azad that comes to mind is the book by Ian Henderson Douglas. The first biography of Azad is thought to be the one which was written, or rather compiled, by Mahadev Desai, Gandhi's secretary in 1940.

So here's remembering the illustrious son of India who was at the forefront of the freedom struggle, and India's first education minister:

*Maulana Abul Kalam Azad's takiya kalam was Mere Bhai

*He was an early riser and loved his tea without milk/sugar

*Along with links to Calcutta, Bhopal, Maulana Azad also spent considerable time in Bombay

*Khairuddin Masjid in Mumbai is named after Maulana Azad's father

*His father Maulvi Khairuddin had disciples all over the sub-continent

*A wealthy Kutchi Memon is believed to have convinced the father to live in Calcutta

*Zulaikha Begum, his wife, died in 1943 when Azad was in prison in Ahmednagar

*Her funeral took place at the Memon burial ground in Manicktala, Calcutta

*His sister Khadija Begum died in 1945 at the age of 90 in Calcutta

*Viceroy Wavell was irked by Maulana Azad's insistence on having an English translator during talks

*Was called a show boy for the Congress by Jinnah

*He advised the Jamiat-Ulema-Hind to give up politics and confine to social and economic well-being

*Khaliquzzaman wrote that Azad tried to downplay his own involvement in Khilafat movement

*Unlike Nehru, Gandhi, Patel, Jinnah and Bose, Maulana Azad did not attend college/university

*Maulana Azad was schooled at home and was self taught, and came in the limelight through his journalism and oratory

Ram Babu Saksena and the history of Urdu

2021-01-02T03:30:00.006+00:00

Ram Babu Saksena

Ram Babu Saksena (1892-1957) was a civil servant in colonial India who worked in the United Provinces. He is now remembered for his book 'A History of Urdu Literature', which was first published nearly a century ago in 1927. Saksena's work came much after Mohammad Husain Azad's pioneering Aab-e-Hayat, but as his labour of love was in English it reached a different set of readers.

When Saksena's book was printed, it was pointed out that there were hardly any discussions of the works of the figures he so meticulously commented upon. There were no extracts or quotations of Ghalib, Zauq, Akbar Allahabadi, Altaf Hussain Hali and others which was taken as a considerable omission in his pursuit of tracing the history of Urdu literature. But this deficiency doesn't take away the importance of his work. Saksena may have forsaken the penetrating discussion of the matla, but his book presents a masterful analysis of what he set it out to be - a textbook to interpret Urdu literature to English knowing public. The fact that a second edition came out in 1940 was proof enough that his book had covered a huge gap.

There were hardly any first-rate criticism and commentaries on the lives and works of Urdu literary figures in Urdu, and almost nothing in English. The few that were present were blinded by thinly concealed adulation. The scholar Mohammad Abdur Rahman Bijnori's book on Ghalib, published in 1921, to give an example, mentions that the Vedas and the Diwan of Ghalib are the only two inspired books in India! This was not a crime which Saksena would commit. A civil servant with a family background of learning and scholarship, it was sad, however, that Saksena got embroiled in a rather unfortunate legal mess, which besmirched his reputation. But more of that later.

What appealed to me was the rather unambiguous way in which Saksena traced the slavish imitation of Persian by the early Urdu poets. Saksena says that they drew little from Hindi/Sanskrit as they were neither knowledgeable nor interested. As is well-known, the early Urdu poets were also masters of Persian. Someone like Ghalib too wanted to be known as a Persian poet. For several of the early figures Urdu offered a much needed relaxation from the taxing Persian compositions.

The considerable influx of Persian imagery in Urdu poetry made it difficult (perhaps almost impossible) for the seasons of India, its mighty rivers and landscape to find any mention in early works. But at the same time the entry of Persian words into Urdu was unavoidable. Innumerable Persian words were introduced as they had no equivalents in Sanskrit or other languages. Even early poets like Kavi Chand in his Prithvi Raj Raso employed Persian to great effect.

According to Saksena, Urdu's existence can be traced to dialect prevalent near Delhi and Meerut. Modern 'High Hindi', he says is an outcome of developing Urdu by purging it of Persian words and instead drawing from Sanskrit vocabulary. Aside from several such sharp observations, the highlight of the book is that it doesn't just stop at the big names of Urdu literature. A fairly good account of the development of Urdu drama also finds place. It seems a bit unorthodox to have Urdu dramas being discussed along with Wali Dakhani and Sauda. The pioneering work by enterprising Parsis in popularising Urdu dramas and the most interesting career of writer Raunaq Banarasi (briefly mentioned) make for an interesting read.

I was also intrigued by Durga Sahai Sarur (1878-1910), better known as Suroor Jahanabadi. Like Ghalib, Suroor, too, loved his wine, which was also responsible in ruining his career and cutting short his life. Suroor used Hindi words in Urdu verses to magnificent effect. His compositions were also seen as breaking the limited motifs, imaginations, and symbols of Urdu poetry. Of course no body can come close to Iqbal and his 'Sare Jahan Se Achcha', but it was Suroor who broke the traditional moulds of Urdu poetry by highlighting patriotic themes and steering clear of communal agenda.

Khaki-i-Watan, Hasrat-i-Watan,Yad-i-Watan were some of Suroor's famous compositions. He also wrote religious and historical poems. But abject poverty made Suroor a good and willing source for those who used his compositions to pass off as their own. This reminded me of a sherwani-clad individual belonging to one of Bombay's rich merchant family who in the 1960s and 70s read poetry written by someone else!

Coming back to Saksena. In the year of India's independence, Saksena was brought to the Information and Broadcasting Ministry in the central government as deputy secretary, which was a sort of promotion from his posting in the United Provinces (which became the state of Uttar Pradesh). He was subsequently sent to the Tonk state as an administrator, and oversaw the state's merger with India as the Dewan. It was during this stint that, as alleged by Nawab Ismail Ali Khan, Saksena sought Rs 3 lakh as his commission to help the Nawab get Rs 14 lakh sanctioned out of the state treasury by the States Ministry. The Nawab alleged that Saksena had threatened to implicate him as a supporter of Azad Kashmir forces, when he resisted paying the full amount.

Subsequently the matter reached the Regional Commissioner who brought Saksena and Nawab Ismail face-to-face and made the former return the Rs 3 lakh given to him. That was not the end of the matter. Saksena subsequently returned to the United Provinces government and became the subject of court proceedings as the Nawab filed a case against him for cheating, bribery and extortion. In 1949 Saksena was in Nainital when he was sought to be brought before the district magistrate of Tonk to face justice. Effectively, the United State of Rajasthan sought his extradition from United Provinces! All his efforts to stall the case were unsuccessful, and his case proceeded before a magistrate in Jaipur.

Ram Babu Saksena (sitting - fifth from left) in a conference at Aligarh Muslim University in March 1957 Pic: @FarooqiMehr

Saksena's defence was that the Regional Commissioner and the Nawab were good friends and were acting in unison to pull him down. The money (Rs 3 lakh) was given to him by the Nawab to meet certain expenses, and despite his efforts to return, was not taken back by the former ruler of Tonk. It is not clear what came out of the court case, but Saksena's reputation as a literary scholar was not affected. He passed away in December 1957 when he was about to take the train to attend the writer's conference in Calcutta.

An Urdu translation of Saksena's book by Mohammad Askari became quite popular and is evident of Saksena's path-breaking work. Current day biographies of Urdu literary personalities are a pale imitation of Saksena's book. I would say that in his own way Ram Babu Saksena was the 20th century equivalent of John Gilchrist!

Saksena's account got me interested in Suroor Jahanabadi and I found this composition rather appealing:

Naqsh ab tak teri ismat ka hai baitha dil mein

Tu wo devi hain tira lagta hain mela dil mein

(To read Ram Babu Saksena's book visit: Archive.org or Rekhta)

Prof Dalvi, Urdu and Mumbai

2017-03-16T01:28:00.001+00:00

There are very few people who can talk with some authority about Setu Madhava Rao Pagdi and A A A Fyzee. Prof Abdus Sattar Dalvi belongs to a rare group of scholar. He had another visitor at his Bandra flat when I went to meet him. Najeeb Raiba, the son of A A Raiba, the lesser-known contemporary of M F Hussain and K H Ara, who belongs to Konkan (like Prof Dalvi), was there to discuss his father's career. Though primarily Prof Dalvi is an Urdu scholar, his energies and endeavours combine his passion for linguistics with history. This explains the wide array of visitors he gets.

“People don’t know that Mumbai had a very old Versova Cadet school where Hindustani was taught. Such was the popularity of an Urdu textbook by Mohammad Ibrahim Makba that it was in circulation right up to Lahore,” says Prof Dalvi. Western India also had a good number of Urdu/Gujarati newspapers and periodicals. “Sadly very less is known of them as most of them have been lost.”

In the commercial and glamourous world of Mumbai, the film industry gets a huge credit for the advancement/popularisation of Urdu. And rightly so. But beyond the painful and playful lyrics of Sahir, Majrooh, Kaifi and Shakeel, it was the industriousness of people like Rafiq Zakaria, Khwaja Abdul Ghafoor, K A Abbas, Krishan Chander, Ali Sardar Jaffri and Sikander Ali Wajd among others, which gave a thrust to Urdu in Maharashtra and Mumbai. And Prof Dalvi has witnessed it all, and in fact, has been a part of it.

The Maharashtra state Urdu academy was established in April 1975 and Prof Dalvi was appointed joint secretary. When a delegation called upon the state chief minister S B Chavan to thank him for his support, Prof Dalvi earned extra attention. He had recently edited the Urdu translation of Sant Ramdas’s Manache Shloka by Shah Turab Chisti which had caught the attention of Chavan. Chisti was a Sufi Dakkhani poet and his translation ‘Man Samjhavan’ was done way back in 1756. Chavan was already pleased with the Urdu academy’s new joint secretary.

“My inspiration to carry out translation work came from Setu Madhava Rao Pagdi. He has translated a huge body of work from Urdu into Marathi. I realised there is a great need for translations and it is crucial that interactions between people, languages and cultures continue.” Describing Pagdi as having ‘ghair maamooli yaddashth’, he fondly remembered his telephone calls on Sunday mornings. “He was very prolific, and kept himself busy till the last days of his advanced age. He had a special talent to not just pick up but also gain mastery over different languages. He went on to write a grammar of the Gondi language.” Pagdi was also associated with the Urdu Academy. In 2005, Prof Dalvi helped organise a seminar on Setu Madhavrao Pagdi at University of Hyderabad.

Prof Dalvi’s stance in his academic career as an Urdu scholar has been one of co-operation and reaching out to fellow academics. This has been due to his own educational achievements and the position of Urdu in Maharashtra. He graduated from Ismail Yusuf College in 1958, and won the St Xavier’s Gold Medal for the highest marks in Urdu. In 1960 he completed MA (Urdu) bagging the coveted Chancellor’s medal. After gaining a PhD from Bombay (on the life of Mohammad Hussain Azad), he studied linguistics at SOAS, and came back to University of Bombay to do his second doctorate on ‘Bombay Urdu – a study in linguistic behaviour’. His love and admiration for languages has not been limited to Urdu and Urdu scholars.

Despite the step-motherly treatment of Urdu in North India, Mumbai’s civic body has a rich tradition of running schools in Urdu, Gujarati, Hindi, Marathi and Kannada mediums. Several civil servants and politicians who studied or hailed from the erstwhile Hyderabad state territories (including S B Chavan) had a genuine affection for Urdu. This ensured that Urdu-medium schools continued to be in existence in post-Independence Bombay. Large scale migration of Muslims from North India swelled the number of interested students. These factors effectively worked to minimise the bitterness relating to the future of Urdu.

In 1983, he was appointed the first Krishan Chander professor and head of the Urdu department, University of Mumbai. Though Urdu was being taught in the city’s colleges, it was only in 1983 that University of Bombay got an Urdu department. Some of his major translations include the works of Sanskrit dramatist Bhartbihari, Sant Dnyaneshwar’s Pasayadan, Vishram Bedekar’s novel Ranangan, P S Rege’s Savithri and Nissim Ezekiel’s Edinburgh Interlude. In the early 1990s at the request of Govt of India, he helped establish the Urdu department at Cairo’s Ain Shamsh University.

Though he retired from the University in 1997, he has been associated with various organisations including Anjuman Islam Urdu Research Institute, Deccan Muslim Educational and Research Institute, Hazrat Makhdoom Ali Mahimi Research Institute and the Urdu Academy. He is currently working on the history of Konkani Muslims and the cultural history of Bombay’s Muslims.

Rushdie's father's secret humiliation in UK

2016-09-25T22:55:00.003+01:00

The eyes have the same intensity as his famously broody-eyed writer son but Salman Rushdie's father Anis Ahmed Rushdie had an almost diametrically opposite reception in the United Kingdom from that of his illustrious son's.

An investigation by this reporter reveals that unlike Sir Salman, knighted by Queen Elizabeth in 2007, his father Anis Ahmed Rushdie was shamed and nearly prosecuted in the UK in 1935 after it was revealed that his birth record details had been fudged to allow him to appear for the elite Indian Civil Service.

Despite his protestations of innocence and cultural misunderstanding, Rushdie senior was dismissed from the ICS on this ground.

After graduating from Cambridge University, like his son did later, Anis Rushdie appeared for the ICS in 1932 and cleared the exam. But following inexplicable reasons he was not selected in 1932. He reappeared the next year and was ranked 4th overall.

His troubles began when he was sent to England on the customary two-year probation and the British began scrutinising his records.

'Entry no 587 which relates to Anis Ahmed Rushdie is definitely not genuine"" and were ""inserted at a later date"", says Victor Hodgson, assistant government examiner of questioned documents, in his report of 20 March 1934.

Mumbai Mirror is in possession of exclusive documents relating to the expulsion of Anis Ahmed Rushdie from the elite Indian Civil Services (ICS).

Following Hodgson's observation, D Reynell, secretary public service commission wrote to MG Hallett, secretary to government of India home department, ""Anis Ahmed was in reality too old to appear at the 1933 examination and that he secured admission thereto by submitting to the commission a copy of an entry of his date of birth in the Delhi municipality register which was fabricated and false.""

The upper age limit to appear for the ICS was 23 and controversy was whether Anis Rushdie was born in 1910 which would have made him just 23 and eligible or 1909 which would render him ineligible.

Rushdie was intimated about this and asked to provide an explanation as an inquiry was to be held in Delhi. Rushdie sent a letter to the secretary civil service commission writing he was ""very much surprised"" and denied any knowledge of the entry being falsified.

Rushdie explained that when he registered at Punjab University his date of birth was wrongly given as 7 August 1909. However his school leaving certificate carried his date of birth as 14 June 1910. This discrepancy, Rushdie claimed arose due to his reliance on the memory of his relatives. ""In India the age of the child is spoken of and not his birth date,"" he replied in a letter dated 8 May 1934.

However, he later asked Punjab University to change his birth date to 3 October 1910 and provided municipal birth records as evidence. This was the date he used to apply for the ICS exams in 1933 and the government agreed to consider it subject to further investigation.

Investigations later found that Rushdie's ""real date of birth was 31 October 1909 as is proved by an entry in the register made on that same day"". Hodgson's report further showed that a ""partially blank entry has been utilised for the purpose of interpolating the now existing details in regard to the birth of Mr. Anis Ahmed.""

What it meant was that on 3 Oct 1910, there were two entries in the register as 586 and 587 of twin girls. The details of the first were duly filled in every column and ditto marks were put for the second twin.

These Hodgson believed were used at a later date to fill out birth details of Anis Ahmed Rushdie. He believed that there were visible signs of fabrication where the gender of the child was changed and details were written over the ditto marks.

An analysis of the ink and handwriting found it to be visibly different from the others and thus raised further doubts on the authenticity of the birth records.

Hodgson also found entry 537 in another register to contain similar details as of Anis Ahmed's father, house and such indicating that it could have been the birth details of Anis Ahmed's elder sibling. However, Anis Ahmed claimed he was his father's only son and hence it was assumed that those details were his own.

Just as the UK government gave protection to his son several decades later, they 'endeavoured' to ensure that the inquiry be not made public 'as it might do great harm to his reputation'.

In a lengthy reply to the authorities in his letter dated 1 January 1935, Rushdie refuted all these allegations and tried to prove how municipal birth records were unreliable and pointed out the drawbacks in the government investigation.

Rushdie explained that according to his school records his date of birth of June 1910 could also be used to verify his age making him eligible for the ICS exams of 1933.

""In India a boy's birthday has no significance in the common social life of the family. It does not, as it does in England, stand out distinct from all the other days of the year,"" he wrote in his letter of 11 January 1935.

Correspondence between Rushdie and the government officers continued for the next few months. It shows how the desperate attempts made by Rushdie to convince the authorities that he was born in 1910 failed.

In another letter Rushdie argued that when he sat for the ICS exam in 1932 (where he was eligible even if he was born on 1909) he ranked 18th on the list and 3rd among Muslims. However he said he was overlooked when three Muslims were nominated and no explanation was given why someone with rank 25 superseded him. He then sat for ICS exams in 1933 and was ranked the 1st on the Muslim list and 4th overall. He requested for ""a little sympathy and kindness"".

But on 5 February 1935, the government of India terminated Rushdie's probation. However, he was not asked to refund his probationary allowance which he received until then. Although the government of India found little doubt that the forgery (3.10.1910) in the register was committed in Rushdie's interest, the criminal charge of forgery, or abetment, could not be proved against him and they did not prosecute him.

After his expulsion as an ICS probationer, Rushdie then applied for a research studentship at Kings College, Cambridge University. He submitted the Punjab University certificate with his date of birth as 14th June 1910. His application was accepted.

After Cambridge Anis Rushdie returned to India and settled in Bombay about which his son was to write memorable novels later on.

Salman Rushdie recently tweeted that he had just finished the final revision to his 2,50,000 word memoir. Wonder if this episode will find a mention in it.

(First published in Mumbai Mirror - Nov 11, 2011)

The 'Begum' who was almost famous

2016-09-18T10:32:00.003+01:00

Feroza Dulhan Begum. Pic-urdufigures.blogspot.com

On 23 September, 1932 a private and confidential letter written by the Countess of Willingdon, the wife of Viceroy Willingdon was delivered to Feroza Dulhan Begum to her hotel room in Shimla. A runner had hand-delivered the letter straight from the majestic Viceregal Lodge. It assured the Begum that the Countess had spoken to the Nawab of Bhopal who promised to do whatever he could. The 26-year-old Begum was the widow of Prince Habibullah of Bhopal and had requested the Viceroy’s wife to intervene on her behalf regarding her share in estates and maintenance.

Shimla provided the perfect setting to get personal grievances addressed and offered a better chance of eliciting a response from the high and mighty in colonial times. The British summer capital was not just a venue for high politics and tough negotiations, as serious historians would have us believed, but also served as the ideal venue for individuals like Feroza Begum to put pressure on powerful opponents.

The Begum had married Prince Habibullah of Bhopal in April 1930 and after his death in June 1930, went on to become the love interest of the horse-race loving influential Maharaja of Idar. In 1949, she moved to London after marrying Stanley Thomson, dashing Navy captain. But before these romantic liaisons, she had to fight a battle to extract the best possible maintenance from the wealthy Nawab of Bhopal. And this fierce battle made her a regular at the best hotels in Shimla, Delhi and Bombay as she shadowed key officials and prominent journalists to plead her case.

Her fascinating life, fragments of which come alive through the archives in London, is a remarkable journey of a confident and an adventurous lady. According to her passport, her maiden name was P. Wadia, the full name as we found out was Phiroza Wadia, and she was the eldest daughter of D M Wadia, a Parsi millowner. She was born on Sept 20, 1906; was five feet in height and had a mole on her upper lip. Not much is known about her education, but it can be safely assumed that she attended school in Bombay or was taught privately by a personal tutor.

Prince Habibullah was heir to the throne of Bhopal after the death of his father Nasrullah Khan in 1924. However, in the power struggle and court intrigue he lost out to Hamidullah Khan, his uncle who became the last Nawab of Bhopal. A forlorn Habibullah made Pune his new home and, some accounts suggest, vowed to never return to Bhopal. Unfortunately by the end of 1929, Habibullah developed tuberculosis and it became clear that he won’t live for long.

Despite the knowledge of Habibulla’s imminent death, Phiroza Wadia became Feroza Dulhan Begum and they married in April 1930. The details of the marriage were kept under wraps. Though the father, mother and the sister of Feroza attended the marriage, they had no idea of the venue till an hour before the ceremony. Expectedly, the marriage caused considerable consternation in the Parsi community. This was perhaps the second high profile marriage of a Parsi lady to a Muslim man in Western India after Jinnah famously married Ruttie Petit in 1918. But unlike Ruttie’s parents, Phiroza’s family supported her decision.

The honeymoon to Mahableshwar was cut short due to Habibullah’s illness. The newly-wed returned to Pune, where Habibullah died in June 1930 at his residence in Bund Garden. After few months, Feroza Begum started inserting notices in newspapers warning public not to deal in estates and shares belonging to her late husband. Very soon she found herself making the rounds of courts in Bhopal where she filed a law suit for a share in Habibullah’s intestate estate.

While her claim to the intestate estate was settled, the officials at Bhopal court refused to give her share in her husband’s estate which he had mentioned in his will. “The widows of Jagirdars in the ruling family are not entitled to an inheritance from the jagirs of their deceased husbands, according to the usage of the State,” is the terse reply she received to her enquiries. She also asserted her right to a widow’s maintenance according to the “family customs of the ruling house of Bhopal” which fell on deaf ears. She then decided to take her struggle to another level.

Diwan Singh Maftoon, the legendary editor of Riyasat, an illustrated Urdu weekly which boasted of an office on London’s Fleet Street, started writing letters to key officials on her behalf. “…this poor lady is not allowed to take a single pie from the very state of her late husband which yields a gross revenue of Rs 6,00,00,000.” One such letter by Maftoon was addressed to Charles Watson the political secretary to the Government. It ends by making an appeal to “…save a human life from starvation and miseries.” Records suggest that she managed to get a lump sum of Rs 35,000 and an allowance of Rs 500 per month but remained convinced that this was nowhere close to the usual Darbar allowance to a widow.

In September 1933, the Maharaja of Idar booked a suite at the Taj Mahal Hotel, where Feroza Begum too was already staying. This sent the city’s gossip mills into an overdrive. But her constant companionship with the Maharaja soon turned into a headache to the protocol obsessed English administration. After the Nawab of Bhopal, it was the office of the Bombay’s Governor who found her too hot to handle.

The Maharaja used to spend a lot of time in Bombay and would have Feroza Begum by her side even on official functions and dinner. But her not so well-defined relationship with the Maharaja unsettled Roger Lumley, Bombay’s Governor. The Maharaja was an avid race enthusiast and would be in Pune and Bombay for the entire racing season. This further added to the misery of the Governor who recorded “I frequently meet the Begum on the racecourse and have sat next to her on meals. It is therefore becoming increasingly difficult for me to go on meeting His Highness without being able to extend an invitation or to offer hospitality to the Begum.”

A perplexed Lumley and his staff were also unable to come to terms that she continued to use Begum while going around with the Maharaja. “It seems quite out of character for the lady to be recognised as Begum attached to a Hindu ruler,” pointed out the befuddled Governor. However, the fact that Feroza Dulhan Begum transformed into Begum Shri Paswanji Sahiba of Idar didn’t seem to have helped matters.

Unknown to her, she had become a subject of discussion between the Governor and Viceroy. The hapless Governor made it clear that he does not desire to “cast stones at the ‘Paswanji’” but that it would be hardly “in keeping with the dignity of the Governor that he should invite her to Governor’s House.” Even Viceroy Linlithgow (who had succeeded Willingdon to whom Feroza’s case was known) opined that it cannot be possible to recognise a lady as a Begum attached to a Hindu ruler. But the Maharaja had different plans. He kept on raising the issue of the “position of Begum Shri Paswanji of Idar,” and given his loyalty to the Raj, the Governor had to devise a way out. Eventually, Governor Lumley came up with a solution. He suggested that he could establish personal rather than official relations with the Begum which would mean that she could be invited to a private lunch once or twice a year, while still keeping her away from official functions.

Just after Independence she married Stanley Thomson, a senior naval officer who also enquired into the Bombay naval mutiny. The couple shifted to UK where she was a successful businesswoman and died in 2001 aged 95. Feroza Begum was neither a social activist nor a participant in the freedom struggle, factors that combine to delegitimise stories like hers in colonial India. Her life is in so many ways reflective of the unusual trajectories that brought her in close contact to the corridors of power and aristocracy and yet she remained away from it.

(First published in Mumbai Mirror)

Bihar, UP and Partition

2016-05-01T04:43:00.001+01:00

Almost seventy years after the Partition, much of the scholarship is fixated with apportioning the blame or rather the larger blame for the ghastly incident. Wasn't Jinnah difficult to negotiate, what if Nehru had not torpedoed the Cabinet Mission Plan, what if Congress-League had come together in 1937 - the list is endless and so are the historical works that deal with them.

Yet, despite the growing historical scholarship on Partition, the works of writers like Manto, Fikr Taunsvi, Rajinder Singh Bedi and others continue to enchant and appeal to an ever growing audience through translations and anthologies. These writers lived those moments and distilled the madness and mayhem through stories and satirical pieces. A Partition omnibus is considered incomplete without a Manto or a Bedi.

Similarly, Yasmin Khan and Vazira Yacoobally-Zamindar opened new grounds of scholarship by virtue of their absorbing narratives. They start their stories after the Partition was set in motion, allowing them to capture and focus on the formation of two states and the poignant human stories that accompanied the long partition and the making of India and Pakistan. What's remarkable is that they demonstrate how it is not absolutely necessary to delve on the high politics or the League-Congress wrangling to make sense of the anxieties, uncertainties and sufferings of the denizens that continues in some sense or form even today. Similarly, earlier works by Ritu Menon, Kamla Bhasin and Urvashi Butalia brought a new perspective to the Partition scholarship.

Here, I will discuss two recent books on Partition, having entirely different approaches. Mohammad Sajjad's 'Muslim politics in Bihar' and Venkat Dhulipala's 'Creating a New Medina'. Dhulipala looks at United Provinces where he argues that Pakistan was much discussed and debated, and also received religious legitimacy from a section of Deobandi ulemas. His work shines through the impressive use of Urdu sources - periodicals and pamphlets - that point towards the centrality of archives in historical work. Sajjad's focus is on Bihar, where he comes up with a very different picture of Muslim politics in the late colonial period. To begin with, Bihar as a political entity has hardly been the focus of serious scholarship in the context of Muslim politics. That, as any student of history would agree, solely rests on the shoulders of Punjab, Bengal and United Provinces.

Perhaps one reason for this divergence could be the different sets of people and groups examined by Dhulipala and Sajjad. Bihar seems to be a much stronger and fertile land for the rise of caste-based Muslim politics right from the colonial times. Sajjad has very intelligently crafted out the politics of these groups and the response it had to the machinations of Jinnah's Muslim League. A major achievement of Sajjad has been the analysis of the politicisation of caste-based Muslim organisations. This, in fact, does provide some understanding of the current position and stature of what is now referred to as Muslim Pasmanda groupings.

On other hand, Dhulipala's analysis centres on the influential Deobandi ulemas. But, I am afraid, in trying to broad base his argument, Dhulipala seems to have misread the stature and influence of Maulana Shabbir Usmani. No doubt he became a leading light in Pakistan, but in the 30s and 40s, he was nowhere close to the influential Maulana Madani, Abdul Bari and others. It was his association with Maulana Ashraf Ali Thanvi that gave his career a huge push, especially after Thanvi's death. And there is no doubt that Thanvi was indeed in the Muslim League camp, but his death in 1943 robbed the League of a vital partner. The use of archives and the cogency of Dhulipala's arguments, make it a significant addition to the Partition historiography.

Dhulipala does mention Madani's treatise on Muttahida Quamiyat, yet it seems he has not engaged fully enough with the import of Madani's thinking, who was a teacher of hadith in Medina for around a decade. This is because Maulana Madani does not just speak of the Prophet's Medina treaty with Jews to give sanctity to his Muttahida Quamiyat, he also elaborates on the important Muslim/Islamic landmarks and heritage in India. More glaring, however, is the absence of Maulana Abul Kalam Azad. In the late 30s, Thanvi gave a fatwa to the effect that the struggle for Urdu is important to save Islam. Azad himself took on the Congress right-wing and resisted all attempts (with little success though) to marginalise Urdu, but neither he nor Madani equated Urdu with Islam.

Dhulipala could have added more gravity to his argument if he had brought new insights by focussing on the other important groups like the Brelvis under the leadership of Ahmed Riza or the Tableeghi Jamaat, as both were active in United Provinces. Ahmed Riza issued fatwas on a variety of issues and would paste the English postage stamp upside down on the letters he dispatched. Central to their rhetoric and existence was devotional Islam that gave primacy to fairs and Urs on the mazaars, that could not be moved across borders. If Islam was indeed so important (or rather the role of ulemas in the creation of Pakistan) how do we account for the conduct of the Brelvis in the creation of the new Medina. And how is it that it took several years to stitch a constitution for the new Medina!

Sajjad in his book highlights the careers of the prominent Muslim leaders of Bihar and also their electoral politics. He has also uncovered and made remarkable use of political pamphlets and vernacular newspapers that shed light on much lesser known figures like Maghfur Aijazi, Maulana Sajjad, Mazharul Haq, Hassan Imam and Shafi Daudi. Behind the analysis of their politics lies the story of Muslim resistance to the politics of separatism in Bihar. However, the book's narrative is such that Sajjad's eagerness to identify himself closely with the politics of 'opposition to Muslim separatism' clearly comes out. Perhaps it's got to do with the fact that the author hails from Bihar.

The book discusses the other usual flashpoints like the Hindi-Urdu controversy, and Sajjad ably demonstrates why it didn't acquire the same dimension in Bihar as in the neighbouring United Provinces. It would have been a more focussed work had Sajjad chosen to limit himself to the late colonial and early independence period. Though he doesn't delve into the Muslim past thankfully(avoiding the usual discussion points like the 1857 revolt, establishment of the Deoband, etc), it is quite ambitious in its scope. However, it provides a breath of fresh air and is an important contribution.

S H Khan - soft voice, hard talk

2016-01-15T14:39:00.001+00:00

In 1998, when Serajul Haq Khan retired as the chairman and managing director of Industrial Development Bank of India (IDBI) he said in an interview that he looks forward to contribute at the macro level. Apparently, this did not go down well with some of the industrialists who asked him whether working in the private sector would be tantamount to not contributing to the economy or the country. But Seraj uncle's philosophy was clear – after being at the helm of IDBI, the premier development financial institute (DFI) which was also the promoter of other remarkable, path breaking institutes like CARE, NSE to name a few, he wanted to stay clear of executive positions in the private sector.

Till his sudden passing away on January 12, he was associated with few companies as an independent, non-executive director. In fact, he was in Pune in connection with his role as chairman of the audit committee of the Bajaj group when he died. He was 78. He was brought to Mumbai, a city where he built his career and had his family, and was buried at the Bada Kabrastan on Wednesday (January 13) afternoon. In his illustrious career he had been on the boards of several companies like UTI, Air India, LIC, Indian Airlines, Exim Bank, IDFC.

Born and brought up in dusty and remote villages of UP’s Ghazipur district, Seraj uncle was a consistent topper all through his academic life. After attending the local school, he went on to do Masters in Commerce from University of Bihar where he was a gold medalist. A famous line about him was that he was inseparable from books even while on the football field! I am not sure if he had planned a career in banking but after a short stint as a lecturer in a Bihar college he came to Mumbai and joined the Reserve Bank of India (RBI) as a probationary officer in 1961. For young budding economists and bright commerce graduates, the RBI in those days was a magnet. In 1965-66, he became a part of the newly established Industrial Development Bank of India (IDBI), which grew under the shadows of the RBI. I am sure he must have had considerable difficulty explaining to people that one couldn’t open a savings account in the ‘bank’ where he was an officer!

Over the years IDBI, which was formed by an act of Parliament, became the premier DFI in India. After being a subsidiary of RBI, it ultimately became a wholly-owned undertaking of the government of India. Seraj uncle too rose in the hierarchy. He became executive director in 1986, managing director in 1992 and chairman and managing director in 1993. The legendary S S Nadkarni had spotted the talent of Seraj uncle and favoured him to succeed after his retirement. This spoke volumes of the talent and industriousness of Seraj uncle because, as is well-know, IDBI at that time could boast of the best, which included most notably Dr R H Patil – NSE’s main architect.

But there was a minor hiccup to his elevation. While he had the internal support from IDBI, there was a possibility, which quickly died down, of an outsider pipping him to the post. In 1993, after the retirement of Nadkarni as chairman of IDBI, he became the acting chairman. While it was widely believed that he would ultimately succeed Nadkarni, who had groomed him for the takeover, there was a possible coup in the making. Taking advantage of its close proximity to certain key politicians of the day, a business house began to actively lobby on behalf of the chairman of another bank to head IDBI. But ultimately merit ruled over politics, and Seraj uncle was appointed to the much deserved post of chairman in December 1993. By this time a whole generation of people, at least in eastern UP and parts of Bihar, had become aware of IDBI - and why one couldn’t open a savings account there.

I do not have any early memories of Seraj uncle, as he seems to be always present from the time I can remember. He was a good friend of my late father and I vividly remember several evenings in his flat. On some occasions (perhaps on Eid) he would come to our house and then my father would accompany him back. Those were the days of VCRs, and a distinct advantage of going to his house for the kids was the access to a well-stocked video library in the neighborhood. During the 1992-93 communal riots in Mumbai, he came to our house suggesting that children and the women accompany him. We didn’t go at that moment, but the situation deteriorated, and the very next day we shifted to his house, where we stayed for a good 10-12 days.

Seraj uncle at a reception @urdufigures.blogspot.com

In the next few years, under his dynamic leadership, he took IDBI to greater heights in terms of productivity and profitability. In its category, IDBI was among the top 10 in the world. Most importantly he strongly believed in the transformation of DFIs into banks, a thought that had first gained currency during Nadkarni’s reign. The RBI constituted a committee under his chairmanship known as the Khan committee to look into ‘universal banking’. This report stands out as one of the highlights of his career. It was this committee, which had as its members K V Kamath and M S Verma among others, that first proposed the conversion of DFIs into banks. But ironically, it was ICICI that beat IDBI in the game and moved ahead. Of course, one of the reason for the quick transformation of ICICI was that it was not tied down, as IDBI was, to government regulations and had more flexibility.

One outcome of this overarching government control was the comparatively low salaries of the staff at IDBI. “If you pay peanuts you will get monkeys,” he reminded the government. Being an insider, he tried his best to delink the salary scale at IDBI to government norms. This certainly added to his popularity and respect at IDBI. He was also very happy with the fact that it was IDBI that acted as promoter to institutes like SIDBI, NSE, and the rating agency CARE. He was also the chairman at both NSE and CARE and always spoke of how the NSE convincingly left BSE way behind.

In 1998-99, when I was at Elphinstone College, Dr Sonu Kapadia, the editor of the College magazine and the last of the distinguished names at the college, was looking for contributions from students. I had few articles in my mind, and was fine-tuning them, when I read in The Economic Times how Seraj uncle completed his innings at IDBI without knowing his successor. I suggested Dr Kapadia an article on the importance of HRD and her first reaction was that it should not be related to the optional paper I was studying! I told her it would be a journalistic piece and was very excited to see the magazine carrying the article mentioning how governmental indifference and politics was clouding the naming of successors at key institutes, along with other issues. (During the same period the announcement of a successor to another key post was delayed).

Seraj uncle’s career was seen in remarkably different ways by different people. Some would label him as only among the few from UP/Bihar to occupy a high position in the financial and banking sector. For many he was representative of the fact that Muslims too can reach coveted positions. For votaries of Hindi he was a good example of why convent or English education was not the only way to success. And there indeed was a powerful message in the way his career shaped. It epitomised the importance of hard work and meritocracy. His refined manners and good looks added to his charming personality, which also at times confused people. A foreign pink paper once described him as ‘aristocratic’!

Despite his busy schedule and travel, he always found time to visit his native village. He never lost touch with his roots and took a keen interest in the affairs of his extended relatives and the community. He fondly remembered his friends from his school days hailing from different villages. In the later years he patronised an NGO working in the field of education and social empowerment in Mumbai. “Hasib sahab (Abdul Hasib Siddiqui, former executive director, RBI) told me about them. They are doing good work,” he told me after I asked him about his picture with kids in the NGO's newsletter. In the last few years I would occasionally call him. “So now you have become an NRI,” he would say. When I met him during my last visit to India I asked him that he should write about his life and career. “I have never thought about it. Also, if I write one it has to be an honest account, but considering that several people I worked with are still alive I don’t think I will be able to do justice. So it’s only better that I do not write.”

While he may have chosen not to write about his experiences, any serious volume on the history of project financing or financial institutions in the post-Nehruvian era will be incomplete without the mention of IDBI and his stewardship. He had a soft, very distinct and distinguishable voice - which is difficult to forget. Sadly, that voice will never be heard now.

He is survived by his wife, two daughters and two sons.

Mansur Ali Khan: A railway man and social reformer

2015-09-10T19:19:00.000+01:00

Khan Bahadur Mansur Ali Khan 1873-1934

Social reforms in India originating in the 20th century have followed various trajectories. Some initiatives metamorphosed to tackle the more pressing challenges while some continue to be as relevant as they were when initiated. This post is about the endeavour to fight dowry and minimise wasteful expenditure in weddings that began at the turn of the 20th century in a cluster of villages (called Kamsaar-O-Bar) in Ghazipur district. The prime mover, a century ago, was Khan Bahadur Mansur Ali Khan, who was an employee of the Oudh and Rohilkhand Railway. I realised that while people in the region do remember him, there is no clarity about his career, postings and other related details.

It was to fill this lacunae that I turned to the archives in London expecting to gather some information about Mansur Ali Khan. He gained prominence in the area as he was the first in the 'biradaari' to have secured a well paying, established job, certainly by virtue of good education. But as mentioned earlier, it was his efforts to awaken his brethren of the need to do away with wasteful and unnecessary customs during weddings that he is best remembered for. These customs and traditions would worsen the financial condition of households but such was the apathy and hold of ignorance that nobody was interested in taking any initiative. Here, I attempt to provide a glimpse to his farsightedness and love for the community.

According to official records, Mansur Ali Khan was born on September 18, 1873 and belonged to village Godsara. While not much is known about his education (it's not clear whether he finished graduation) he joined the Oudh and Rohilkhand Railway as goods clerk. The Oudh and Rohilkhand railway was established in 1872 and in 1888 it was taken over by the British government. It is my understanding that being in a transferable job, he must have spend considerable time in bigger cities and towns like Moradabad, Allahabad, Barabanki, Hardoi, Lucknow, Meerut. This must have made him realise the backwardness in Kamsaar. Being in government service, he was aware of the importance of education and its linkage with social reform. But the situation in Kamsaar was far from satisfactory. Most of the people were engaged in agriculture or found employment in Bengal police or the army.

Convincing village elders turned out to be much more difficult than he had thought. His major aim was to get their assent to do away with dowry and focus on education. To do this he would visit the adjoining villages and conduct meetings. The response was not promising. To discard old customs was easier said than done. But Mansur Ali Khan persisted. He kept on the meetings at regular intervals and finally in 1910 a body named Anjuman Islah Kamsar-o-Bar was established. This created an environment of awakening and people saw virtue in Mansur Ali Khan's arguments. But sadly, the area continues to be beset with the same problems, although education and migration has increased the general well-being. After Mansur Ali Khan, there were some notable individuals who carried on the good work, but had limited success and the problem persists. Farms are mortgaged/sold and loans are taken out to meet the wedding expenses.

After joining as goods clerk (possibly in the 1890s), he continued to progress in his career. He became traffic inspector after few years and in 1913 he was promoted as traffic superintendent. As a superintendent, his duties and responsibilities increased and much of his time was spent in Lucknow which was the headquarters of the Oudh and Rohilkhand Railway. By 1921, he had already become District Traffic Superintendent (claims) and appeared before few important railway committees, including the famous Railway Committee headed by William Acworth whose aim was to reorganise the railway system in India.

In Jan-Feb 1921, Mansur Ali Khan was asked pointed questions about station masters and clerks receiving payments/commissions for the allotment of wagons. He replied that this had become a 'custom' across the country and that both, the railway staff and public, were to be blamed for this. Those were the days of restrictions on goods and commodities in the post-war period. Sugar and grains could command stupendous prices for the merchants provided they reached their destinations on time. And this was dependent on the availability of wagons. Then there was the question of goods being undervalued to escape higher charges. Mansur Ali Khan told the committee members how he ordered the deduction of Rs 10 per month from the salary of a station master for one year. This station master was found to be undervaluing the merchandise being transported.

One of the committee member was the Bombay industrialist Purshottamdas Thakurdas who seemed to take umbrage on the casting of aspersions on the merchant community by Mansur Ali Khan. Despite intense questioning, Mansur Ali Khan continued to hold fort and made his points unambiguously. He died in 1934, and I haven't been able to find out whether he was promoted any further. But one thing is clear it must have taken a giant effort on his part to straddle both his professional and personal commitments. By one account it was after more than five years of regular meetings that the Anjuman Islah Kamsar-o-Bar was formed consisting of members from the villages around Dildarnagar. His third son Mahmood Ali Khan too took interest in empowering people through education. He started one of the earliest English-medium primary school in Dildarnagar and also stood for Assembly elections in independent India but was unsuccessful.

An Islah committee is still in existence but it can be only through increased participation and co-operation that dowry and wasteful expenditure can be stopped. Only Allah knows how long will this movement, started by Mansur Ali Khan a century ago, continue as it seems to be a very slow work-in-progress.

Saiyid Hamid's death is huge blow to Indian Muslims

2015-01-18T04:43:00.000+00:00

"But for the media, people like me do not represent Muslims because we are too progressive; we don't have beards nor do we wear the peculiar white caps. The Muslim stereotypes do not fit us. If a Muslim demonstrates backwardness it is news; if he exhibits progressiveness, it is not news." These words written by the late Rafiq Zakaria comes to mind in the wake of the passing away of Saiyid Hamid, former vice-chancellor of Aligarh Muslim University (AMU) and retired IAS officer. Except few cursory comments and platitudinous condolence messages, the national media seems to have largely ignored his death.

Born in 1920, Saiyid Hamid completed BA and then MA in English followed by another MA in Persian at the Aligarh Muslim University. He got selected to the United Provinces provincial civil services and worked in the districts of Uttar Pradesh and in 1949 graduated to the IAS. After being in service for more than 30 years, he then became the vice-chancellor of AMU. This was the start of his second innings and his stint at Aligarh turned out to be full of challenges. After leaving his mark as an able administrator, Saiyid Hamid plunged into ameliorating the educational backwardness of Muslims. He focused on increasing the number of Muslims in civil services and worked tirelessly towards it. With the passage of time, the tumultuous Aligarh days were behind him, and he emerged as a towering personality and a kind of father figure for Muslim social activists.

He kept away from politics but continued to be at the forefront of Muslim issues till his last days. His moderate approach, high integrity and clear thinking added to his forceful personality which was embellished by his love for literature. His association with Jamia Hamdard as the vice chancellor brought immense laurels and respect, but it was the establishment of the Hamdard Study Circle that earned him the gratitude of the community. The study circle conducted coaching classes for Muslim students aspiring to get into the civil services. (It seems this was a passion that Saiyid Hamid had for long. Here is a piece by senior IAS officer Naved Masood that throws more light on his personality.)

In 2010, Shah Faesal topped the UPSC exams and brought into limelight the works of Saiyid Hamid and Hamdard Study Circle, where he received coaching. The fact that Shah Faesal was from Kashmir made the achievement more noteworthy. Saiyid Hamid told twocircles.net: "We are also proud of the fact that this has happened in respect of a candidate from Jammu and Kashmir where condition has not been favourable for serious study and yet the young man has proved that despite of all difficulties in the way one can be successful and eminently successful." It was perhaps such work at the ground level that gave immense satisfaction to Saiyid Hamid.

Another project close to his heart was the magazine 'Nation and the World' which unfortunately did not do well. There would hardly be a major Muslim educationist or activist who must have not benefited from his advice and guidance. His stature was such that he was beyond seeking any publicity or laurels for himself. He was a man of principle who never shied from putting across his views even at the risk of going against popular notions.

At the height of the Babri Masjid episode, Saiyid Hamid sought to engage the community to discuss the statement of L K Advani. In August 1990, Advani had said that if Muslims agreed to a respectful removal of the mosque to a site close by, Hindus may be persuaded to withdraw their claim to other disputed places of worship. He got support from Badruddin Tyabji and Col Bashir Hussain Zaidi but to their "disappointment and surprise" their stance did not get much support. He wrote: "It seems that on all religio-political issues it is extremism along that gets credibility. Moderation and even exploratory attempts at mediation are spurned. No one can afford to essay a rapprochement, not even a leader of of Mr Advani's stature, for fear of losing ground with his followers.The folly of this writer's response to an offer that never was has been doubly established."

The driving force behind this endeavour was the belief that Hindu-Muslim relationships would stand transformed and would give breathing space for "social and educational reconstruction". But such thorny issues were always beyond the honest approach of people like Saiyid Hamid. Yet it was an earnest desire to work towards the larger good of the community that lay at his heart.

At 94 years of age, Saiyid Hamid lived an extraordinary life. He saw the British rule, witnessed the Partition, immersed himself in the difficult task of Muslim empowerment and as Afzal Usmani writes managed to build a "sound academic record at a moment in India's history when Muslims were afflicted with uncertainty." His work will be remembered by generations to come.

Prof Robinson on 'Separatism Among Indian Muslims..'

2014-07-22T19:00:00.000+01:00

Pic: The Express Tribune

Prof Francis Robinson needs no introduction to scholars and research students engaged in the study of South Asia. In the last few decades he has written several books that take a close look at Islam/Muslims in South Asia. Forty years ago his first book, Separatism Among Indian Muslims: The politics of the United Provinces’ Muslims 1860-1923 was published which continues to be an important entry point for anybody interested in the Muslim politics of British India. Though I have been in touch with Prof Robinson through email, I first met him at the SOAS Muslim South Asia Graduate Research Conference (MUSA) in Oct 2013. I was one of the presenters and Prof Robinson gave the key-note address.

As a lay reader, it was the exhaustive notes in the book that got me glued. And the biographical notes at the end of the book introduce us to the professional, religious and agrarian links and divisions between the leading Muslim families and individuals. I learnt about a Mohammed Ali of Dharavi (apart from the more famous Mohammed Ali of the Ali brothers), the romance that bloomed between the affable journalist Syud Hossain and Vijayalakshmi Pandit, and the politics involved in the elections of the district boards.

I requested Prof Robinson for an interview and he was kind enough to answer few questions:

1. What made you research the Muslims of North India?
I originally set out to do research on politics and society in medieval Italy. But in the mid-1960s could find no one suitable to supervise my research in Cambridge – one did not think of moving universities in those days as readily as one might do today. So my Director of Studies at the time, Anil Seal, said what about India?

As it happens I had some acquaintance vicariously with India. I had been brought up in the village of Willingdon just outside Eastbourne. In those days it was full of old India hands. The house I was brought up in was built by one – used to find rupees in the garden. Lady Willingdon used to open the Church fete. The Church organist had been organist of Calcutta Cathedral. My first Headmaster was a former Lt Col of the 8^th Gurkha Rifles. An early girl friend was the granddaughter of Sir Norman Smith, the last DiB in India etc… etc… So Anil’s suggestion was not such an odd one. It meant of course engaging with Indian history from scratch. In terms of where I might focus my research Anil said ‘you will look at northern India in the nationalist period’.

I very quickly discovered that Muslims were important people in northern India, and amongst the Muslims the ulama were people to be reckoned with, and in this case in particular the ulama of Farangi Mahall. So this is how Separatism came to be about political change in northern India with special reference to the Muslims. The response to Separatism led me to focus on Islam in northern India as much as on the Muslims. Here I benefited greatly from the ulama of Farangi Mahall who made their records open to me. Everything I have written since then has been influenced by this research. I am currently writing the biography of Maulana Jamal Mian, the last many fully-formed in the Farangi Mahall tradition.

2. Any lingering memories of the days when you were researching and meeting people in North India?

My constant memory is of the kindness and helpfulness of all those whom I met in northern India. But this is not a lingering memory, it is one constantly reinforced as daily I am in contact with my Indian and Pakistani friends. One central figure in supporting my research in Lucknow has been Ram Advani, India’s best-known bookseller. Members of the Farangi Mahall family, in particular Abdul Bari’s grandchildren are in contact all the time. I see them now in Pakistan and the UK rather than in India. Indeed, one was in contact today.

3. It's been 40 years since the publication of Separatism. Any issue/strand on which you have had a re-think?

The book is very much of its time. The book is sub-Namierite in its approach and does not give much weight to ideas. I would change following things: (1) some language – I might use the term zeal rather than fanaticism; I would not described ulama as ‘priests’ as I do on occasion. Etc… (2) I would give greater weight to ideas and ‘belief’. You can see me moving in this direction in my debate with Paul Brass. (3) the book would display generally greater cultural sensitivity. It is very much a young man’s book, largely written when I was 24/25. If I wrote the book now it would be infused with a much stronger cultural understanding.

4. Do you think more needs to be done to uncover and explore the role of the landlords, professionals, ulemas who figure in Separatism as the focus primarily has been on Jinnah/Liaqat Ali/Khaliquzzaman?

There is certainly much more to be done on the second-level people involved in Muslim separatism, or in Muslim politics in general. We are now getting down to that as PhDs are being produced of studies at the qasbah level. I think of Riasur Rahman’s thesis on the politics of four UP qasbahs: Amroha, Budaun, Bilgram and Rudauli and my Oxford student Megan Robb’s thesis on the world of the Medina of Bijnor. Study of local newspapers and of the huge output of the literati of the qasbahs is one of the ways forward.

5. Your research triggered an interesting debate with Paul Brass. What are your thoughts on it?

My debate with Paul Brass was all about the role of ideas in human action. As I told you, it came at a time when I was exploring the importance of ideas and belief in human action. I no longer accepted my earlier position of treating ideas as instrumental, as Paul continued to wish to do. So in that debate I was feeling my way to a new position and testing it out on him. I would continue to go with the position I reached in Islam and Muslim Separatism, but wish that I had never touched the term ‘primordial’. It has led to much misconstruing of my position. Paul I think put instrumental and primordial at two ends of a pole. My final position was, and is, that I give greater room in explanation for culture and belief than he does.

Tyabjis - early members of new Indian middle class

2014-01-31T15:30:00.000+00:00

CinnamonTeal Publishing

When we think of the Tyabji family, there are only few names that would strike most of us. It would primarily be Badruddin Tyabji and for those more informed perhaps Abbas Tyabji and other members of the extended family like writer Atiya Fyzee, ornithologist Salim Ali and jurist A A A Fyzee. Badruddin and his elder brother Camruddin's career in the legal field shifted the focus from the family's involvement in commerce and trade to professional service and scholarship. Within a period of a century and more after the death of Badruddin’s father and family patriarch Bhoymeaah Tyabji, there were some remarkable men and women who emerged from the Tyabji clan.

Salima Tyabji's book ‘The Changing World of a Bombay Muslim Community’ introduces some of the lesser known Tyabjis. Drawn largely on the family papers, journals and correspondence the book 'initially arose from my (author's) curiosity about how I, brought up as a Muslim, could have the freedom, intellectual and otherwise, that was popularly supposed to be denied to Muslims, women in particular.' I read for the first time about Rahat and Safia, wife and daughter of Badruddin Tyabji. As the Tyabjis married among themselves, no matter how many books or articles you read it is not difficult to get confused.

Salima Tyabji's book provides a glimpse to the unique persona of the Tyabji family. Belonging to the Sulaimani Bohra sect, the Tyabjis in the late nineteenth century had the prestige and popularity largely due to the achievements and standing of Badruddin and Camruddin to provide leadership to the Muslims of Bombay. Unlike the other wealthy and powerful families belonging to the trading and merchant communities, the Tyabjis had a good mix of members who were professionals as well as involved in business. The first Muslim Indian Civil Service (ICS) officer who did exceptionally well in the examination was Mohsin, son of Badruddin Tyabji.

The most remarkable story that comes out from the book is that of the couple Safia and Jabir. Safia was married to Jabir Ali the eldest brother of Salim Ali. The author has translated the diary entries of Safia from Urdu to English and in doing so has brought to light a very emotional and, uncharacteristically candid saga of intimacy, struggle and love. It is just wonderful to go through those pages that detail how the Cambridge graduate grappled with looking after his family while spending time in jail due to his affiliation with Congress. Jabir was a close friend of Jal Naoroji the grandson of Dadabhai Naoroji and settled in Chembur which was far from the city.

In what ways were the Tyabjis different from a North Indian Muslim family of similar standing? Except few, most of the Tyabjis married among themselves and stayed away from the wealthy, landholding families of North India or of similar character in Deccan and Western India. Rahat Tyabji as the book notes "had strong views about not having her children marrying into Nawabi families, but wanted people of good solid bourgeois stock". This had a bearing on how the different branches of the Tyabjis responded to subsequent events in the country. The Fyzee sisters had fashioned themselves closely with the Urdu-speaking North Indian elites though it is equally interesting to know that the Fyzee sisters had learnt Marathi. Atiya Fyzee who later established a school in Bombay would constantly find faults in the teaching of Urdu in Bombay’s municipal schools.

This led to a cold relationship with Khadija Shuffi Tyabji who perhaps was the most active woman politician among the Tyabjis, which Atiya aspired but never managed to emulate. I wish the book had more information about Khadija Tyabji for she was a long running member of the Bombay Municipal Corporation and the Assembly and was very active on the city’s social and political front. It seems Atiya collaborated closely with Maulana Shaukat Ali though in all fairness I must say that Nazli did collect funds for the Congress as well and was influenced by Gandhi.

Khadija was widowed at an early age and her son had settled in Hyderabad where he managed few mills while she remained in Bombay. Khadija was also associated with the Haj Committee in the 1930s and did much for the education of women. Just like Khadija, Dilshad Begum the daughter of Camruddin Tyabji remains forgotten. Dilshad was married into the Murshidabad royal family. She was active on the restricted and exclusive social scene and her early death in 1925 shocked her friends in Bombay and Bangalore where her daughter shifted with her husband. The Sandhurst-educated Iskander Mirza who went on to become President of Pakistan was her son.

The Tyabjis are one of the few and earliest families who gave their daughters a sense of independence and access to education. This explains the confidence and the multifaceted lives of the women discussed above. The Tyabjis, Hydaris, Fyzees, Futehallys, Habibs, Latifis are all related and the large number of outstanding men and women that they have given has few parallels. Polymath and brilliant ICS officer Sir Alma Latifi (father of Danial Latifi), scholar and keen sportsman A A A Fyzee (India’s ambassador to Egypt), ornithologists Salim Ali, Humayun Ali, Zafar Futehally, historian Irfan Habib, social activist Kamila Tyabji and other distinguished personalities all belong to the same clan. As the family expanded rapidly and different branches settled in various parts of India and world, a comprehensive biography of the Tyabjis is still to see the light of the day.

There was no uniformity of opinion amongst them neither did they consciously work towards it. But what was common was the drive to excel and make a difference to the society in whichever field they choose. As Moin Shakir and Theodore Wright have rightly observed: “It was perhaps the impact of Bombay and the compulsions of the trade that led Tyabjis to reject the increasingly dysfunctional feudal values of the North Indian and the Deccan nobilities but exemplified the commercial skills and adaptability of the Weberian prototype. In short they were the early members of the new Indian Middle class.”

I came to know through Prof Nasir Tyabji that his sister Salima, the author of the book, passed away peacefully on December 20, 2013. I wish I had written to her more frequently. Salima was the daughter of Saif and Vazir Tyabji and granddaughter of Faiz and Salima Tyabji. Faiz Tyabji, a judge of the Bombay High Court, was the third son of Badruddin Tyabji.

Muslim Zion - Pakistan as a political idea

2013-09-15T22:23:00.000+01:00

C Hurst & Co

Farzana Shaikh’s Community and Consensus in Islam: Muslim representation in Colonial India,1860-1947, and Ayesha Jalal’s The Sole Spokesman offered two different narratives of the Muslim League’s and Jinnah’s politics. While Shaikh focussed on the religious dimension, Jalal argued that League’s politics had much more flexibility towards Hindus where Pakistan was used as a bargaining counter.

Commenting on these two narratives, Gail Minault wrote: “In any case, drawing a line in the sand and lining up votaries on either side of that imaginary line does little to advance our collective search for historical understanding.”

Faisal Devji’s Muslim Zion – Pakistan as a political idea, is a refreshing addition to the study of politics of Muslim League and Jinnah’s personality as it traces the creation of Pakistan (just like Israel’s a year later) in an ‘ambiguously religious way of imagining nationality in an alien geography, without a necessary reference to shared blood…’ To borrow Minault’s observation it is free from the drawing of an imaginary line in the sand. As the name suggests, the book explores the common characteristic of international or non-national state between Zionism and Muslim nationalism in India, a departure from the dominant variables of examining the Muslim League and Jinnah with the British, Congress and the high politics of Partition.

Early on in the introduction, Devji makes it clear that for him history is not to be ‘written as a police report or judicial decision’, instead his interest lies in the ‘forms of argumentation and lines of reasoning that both transcend and survive such intentionality to shape the prose of history’. The book makes some complex and nuanced observations spread over six chapters.

Muslim League’s ambivalence towards history and geography

Devji contends that both Zionism and Muslim nationalism share more with each other than with their immediate neighbours. This ambivalence towards history and refusal to be defined by geography, Devji writes “led them to conceive of a novel and remarkably abstract form of political unity premised upon a paradoxical rejection of the past.” One can infer that it is perhaps this rejection and ambivalence that bases them on “national will the greater part of whose history lies outside their borders.”

Does this explain the rewriting of history textbooks in Pakistan which is in complete opposite to Jinnah’s disdain of India’s Muslim history. Devji sees a pattern in this disdain, as the whole Pakistan movement was based on tying it to the recent colonial history rather than tagging it to the past.

What also made Jinnah uncomfortable was the realisation that Hindustan would be claimed by Congress as ‘preexisting India’, with Pakistan coming out as a secessionist.

Devji quotes Jinnah in a 1944 meeting with Gandhi: “Ours is a case of division and carving out two independent sovereign states by way of settlement between two major nations, Hindus and Muslims, and not of severance or secession from any existing union which is non-existent in India.”

That Jinnah was much of a constitutional player rather than operating in the religious realm is well known, but Devji’s extrapolation of and subtle use of Islamic and Muslim philosophy in the British colonial framework adds to our understanding of Jinnah’s and League’s politics and the subsequent creation of Pakistan. “Instead of being tied to a language of historical and territorial integrity nationality for Jinnah was a purely constitutional category, one crucial to the making of a social contract.” (page 105)

According to Devji, Jinnah’s opposition to Khilafat was not due to ‘generalized advocacy of secularism’, but rather due to its ‘appeal to Muslims as merely religious group.’ This was because it risked reducing Muslims merely as a religious group and thus relegating them to a minority in religious terms that could easily overshadow their distinct political place.

Chaudhury Khaliquzzaman in his autobiography gives air to his disappointment to the fact that Maulana Azad avoided mentioning Khilafat, in which he himself played an active role, in his book.

Was it because, as Devji notes that Gandhi was able to ‘seduce Muslims into a religious madness’ that Azad did not want to chronicle those days?

Alliance with non-Congress groups Devji is not satisfied with the categorization of League’s leaders and members in terms of their attitude towards the British. Without naming Francis Robinson it is obvious that when he mentions the categorization of League leaders into the old and young party he is referring to his copiously referenced book Separatism Among Muslims.

“Because of the curious demographic configuration that Muslims possessed in colonial India, they were able to deploy two kinds of political strategies, one defined by the category of minority and the other by that of the nations.” (Page 184) It was this nature of Muslim politics that Devji argues made it possible for the League to link up with other minority groups. Why then was there no effective coming together of Jinnah and Ambedkar?

Taking through the possibility of Jinnah aligning with the non-brahmin and Dalit parties, Devji wonders whether it demonstrated ‘remnants’ of Jinnah’s ‘loyalty to India in some perverse way’ or his desire to be the ‘only one to destroy the country he had fought to kept united for so many years’. The part dealing with Muslim-Dalit politics makes for some fascinating reading. Apart from being representatives of two major minority groups, Ambedkar and Jinnah also shared the common resolve to constitutional methods. Arguably much of the current Muslim-Dalit political dynamics in India can be traced to the nature of this relationship and parleys.

Muslim Zion brings forth the collaborative and competitive politics of Ambedkar and Jinnah, a much ignored aspect. The book thus effectively traces the creation of Pakistan by mapping Islam, Muslim, and minorityism packed with some fresh and original perspectives on Sir Syed Ahmed, Allama Iqbal, and Syed Ameer Ali among others.

Muslim Zion will also be of interest to those seeking to have some understanding of the Shia sub-sects. Devji suggests that the interest of prominent Shias in the politics of Muslim League had got to do with the fact that they wanted to protect themselves from both the Hindu as well as the Sunni majority.

While Devji rightly points out the near absence of scholarship on the prominent trading and merchant groups of Bombay, it would have been great if he had elaborated more on the ‘long and unresolved struggle’ to control the League and its policies between North India’s Muslims and the merchants and landowners of the cities.

Even as the book explores on the idea of Pakistan, the amazing parallels between a Muslim homeland and Jewish settlement seamlessly runs through the narrative making it eminently readable. Muslim Zion is a provocative and fascinating piece of scholarship with some very complex and tight observations and arguments.

Nehru, as portrayed by K A Abbas and A Harvani

2013-05-28T10:48:00.000+01:00

Jawaharlal Nehru has been the subject of several studies and work undertaken by historians and political scientists. Being the longest serving Prime Minister of independent India, Nehru remains a much sought after figure to understand the dynamics of current India. His legacy has an important role to play in the way India has shaped up. A recurring framework of literature on Nehru has been to throw light on his association with the other Congress leaders, close and trusted friends, important political movements and his prime ministership.

In this essay I have looked upon how Nehru is projected and portrayed by two individuals K A Abbas and Ansar Harvani in their books. The books under consideration are K A Abbas’s ‘I am not an island: An experiment in Autobiography’ and Ansar Harvani’s ‘From Gandhi to Gandhi: Private Faces of Public Figures’. K A Abbas, was a journalist who also directed movies. He was closely associated with Raj Kapoor and wrote a popular column in Blitz. Ansar Harvani was a Lok Sabha MP who also worked as a journalist. Both were good friends and studied together at Aligarh Muslim University (AMU).

Just like other national leaders, Nehru’s life is majorly discussed in terms of his broad outlook and vision. Individuals like Abbas and Harvani and their work helps throw light on the quirky details which goes a long way in putting up a human face to a prominent figure – in this case Nehru. The contrasting picture of Nehru that comes through these two books from good friends is symptomatic of the urge to trace the success and failures of modern India to Nehru. Abbas and Harvani cite issues and instances where two different Nehrus emerge.

It is necessary to discuss a bit more about Abbas and Harvani to understand their different approaches. Both were not front rank politicians or leaders but representative of the liberal-secular -socialist intellectuals belonging to the old and distinguished Muslim families of North India. They were neither rich enough nor desired to go abroad for studies like Syud Hossain, Asaf Ali, Sir Shah Sulaiman or members of the Suhrawardy, Kidwai, Tyabji or Hydari families. Both were journalists and consistently aligned with Congress, though it is important to add that Harvani was drawn towards Subhash Chandra Bose, Nehru’s bête noire.

Harvani was an accomplished speaker and a fine orator who could count upon AMU students and residents of Delhi’s Jama Masjid area among his captive audiences. He was twice elected to the Parliament and had several clashes with government agencies (particularly in Uttar Pradesh) in his role as a journalist for Blitz. Majaz Lucknowi, the famous poet was his brother and lyricist and Javed Akhtar is his nephew. Abbas belonged to a family of educationists and litterateurs and counted Maulana Altaf Husain Hali as his forefather. Syeda Hameed, member Planning Commission of India, whose father was Secretary in the Ministry of Education during the tenure of Maulana Azad as Education Minister is his niece. A film critic who ended up writing and directing movies, Abbas is also known as the man who gave Amitabh Bachchan his first break in Bollywood.

Abbas and Harvani both were active student activists. Harvani met Nehru before Abbas as a teenager at Lucknow, where he was living with his relatives. Abbas’s first meeting with Nehru was in a train when he was a student at AMU. Abbas was accompanied by three friends including Harvani when he met Nehru at Khurja railway station close to Aligarh.

Both, Abbas and Harvani, have written about their first meeting with Nehru. However, the manner in which they take forward the narrative is illustrative of the difference in feeling and attitude towards Nehru. It also stems from the fact that Abbas has written the book as events unfolded (mostly in a chronological order), while Harvani’s observations are coloured with Nehru’s decisions taken much later. He keeps going back and forth in time in his book.

For Abbas, “the very first time I saw Jawaharlal Nehru it was love at first sight.” The love at first sight was perhaps due to a mixture of youthful romanticism and lack of like-minded leaders at AMU. As Abbas himself notes “…had he (Nehru) not articulated what we had only vaguely felt?”

Harvani’s first encounter was in a different setting. Nehru was looking after the decorations and seating arrangement for the All Parties conference at Lucknow’s Kaiserbagh in 1928. According to Harvani he lent him a helping hand and ‘earned his appreciation’. “This was the beginning of our relationship which continued till his death.”

In 1929, during the Simon commission agitation Harvani again came in touch with Nehru. The administration arrested the Congress leaders and as Harvani was too young to be put to jail he was ‘taken to a forest 12 miles’ away from the city. He had to trek back alone. “This was my first taste of suffering under his leadership, which I did not question for long time. In real life, how and when did Harvani question Nehru is not clear, but in his book he has criticised Nehru for several decisions taken by him.

After their meeting, Abbas wrote to Nehru asking for his photograph, for which he got a reply that he did not have any photograph that he could send and will give him when he gets one! Abbas had his own share of disappointment with Nehru, including one during the very first meeting. Abbas was dejected to see Nehru travelling in the first class compartment. It also dawned upon him that ‘he was not tall as he looked in his photographs’.

While Abbas has given instances to show Nehru’s ‘quick flashes of temper’, Harvani has stressed upon Nehru’s ‘double standards’. Part of the explanation could lie in the fact that Harvani was more drawn towards politics while Abbas immersed himself in journalism and later films.

Abbas never stood for elections while Harvani was twice elected to the Parliament. Harvani takes pride in his association with Subhash Chandra Bose, but Abbas has nothing to say about him. Though Abbas describes Nehru as the ‘second greatest man of my country’ his autobiography does not name who is the first. He remained consistent in his admiration and dedication to the ‘second greatest man’.

Both have taken forward Jawaharlal Nehru’s role as statesman, politician, and son of Motilal, India’s first prime minister and have also written about his friends and acquaintances. Their books are quite illuminating in knowing what Nehru did in between addressing workers and chairing meetings. The instances chosen by them takes forward their feeling towards Nehru. Abbas was desperate for Nehru’s attention while Harvani was busy making a mark in the freedom struggle and politics.

In the early 1930s Abbas came to know about Nehru’s foreign trips. He wanted to accompany him as his secretary. Abbas was employed at Bombay Chronicle but he was desirous of travelling abroad with Nehru.

Nehru was good friends with Madame Menaka who was the wife of Colonel S S Sokhey, the eminent scientist. Menaka was a famous and sought after dancer and was performing at Bombay’s Capitol Theatre where Nehru was invited.

Abbas writes:

“I had my press pass, and I manoeuvred to get my seat just behind the group with Panditji. Colonel (later general) Sokhey, the eminent scientist and the husband of Madame Menaka sat on Panditji's right and a young Parsi woman sat on his left.”

For Abbas it was not important to find out who the young Parsi woman was. All he wanted was to get an audience with Nehru and ask if he could accompany him to foreign trips as his ‘secretary’. It was perhaps the same Parsi woman who would qualify according to Harvani as one of the ‘host of socialite ladies who pretended to be social workers’ with whom Nehru ‘felt at home’.

The friction between Nehru and Sardar Patel is well known. Maulana Azad was much closer to Nehru than Patel. Harvani’s contextualising of Nehru’s relationship with Sardar Patel and Maulana Azad and clubbing them together in this regard is interesting:

“While he could not avoid the company of Patel and Azad in social life, he felt more at home with Sir Gopalaswami Iyengar, Sir Girija Shankar Bajpai, Sir Raghavan Pillai, Sardar Pannikar, Sir V T Krishnamachari…”

Did Nehru really not like the company of Patel and Azad? Abbas has also dwelt upon the differences between Nehru and Azad. He poignantly describes their personalities, outlook and way of life in the book. However, unlike Harvani, Abbas compares their childhood and education to highlight that they worked together to serve India.

Nehru became the Congress president in 1929 for its Lahore session. According to Harvani, Motilal Nehru had a role in his selection as the president. The British government had arrested several people under the ‘communist conspiracy’. Motilal was afraid that his son too would be arrested. Nehru had attended the anti-imperialist conference in Brussels and the home department was considering arresting him.

Motilal requested Gandhi to nominate Jawaharlal as the Congress president for the Lahore session. “They (British) could not declare the chief of the most representative Indian political organisation as Communist,” writes Harvani giving a window to Motilal’s thought process. Nehru who was seen as Gandhi’s chosen successor, was a ‘socialist’ in the mid-1920s who strengthened the left wing opposition within Congress. Harvani laments that Nehru’s ascendancy as the president for the Lahore session marked the beginning of ‘political rapprochement between the Mahatma and Pandit Jawaharlal Nehru’.

Abbas gives no such details of the high politics of the day. Unlike Harvani, Abbas didn’t undergo long term imprisonment and was much less of a political creature. He worked for the Bombay Chronicle for a very long time which had a cartoonist named Radha who had a one-column space. Nehru was a constant visitor to Bombay and usually stayed at his sister Betty’s (Krishna Hutheesing) flat. One day Radha, who according to Abbas, used to be shabbily dressed and was addicted to country liquor was struggling to get any personality for his column. He came to know that Nehru was in town and in the late evening reached his sister’s flat. Nehru was just finishing dinner and enquired the purpose of Radha’s visit.

When Radha said that he wanted to capture him, Nehru ‘exploded’. He had to attend a meeting and had no time to spare. Radha started weeping and told Nehru: “You have had your dinner but if I don’t deliver your sketch by 10 o’clock I won’t be able to earn my dinner.” When Nehru asked his sister to serve dinner to Radha, he requested that he would prefer Nehru gave him some time. “You will have both,” Nehru told him.

Harvani’s narrative has none of the ‘kindness’ and ‘charm’ of Nehru’s personality. The anecdotes, instances cited by him are viewed through a heavy political lens. According to him, Nehru who was highly critical of Bose and his Indian National Army (INA) did not want to lose any political mileage during the famous INA trial. “He organised a Defence Committee and himself appeared in a Barrister’s gown after almost twenty-five years to assist renounced (sic) lawyer Bhula Bhai Desai to defend them,” writes Harvani.

Abbas and Harvani both have used different instances to show Nehru the way they want to. As I have said before this had much to do with their own leanings and profession. Harvani has criticised Nehru for ‘nepotism’ and for favouring Kashmiri Pandits and his friends. Though Harvani was twice elected to Parliament, he never got a ministry.

Interestingly, Abbas himself has commented on Harvani’s political career: “Much lesser men became Ministers, he (Harvani) was never offered even a deputy ministership.”

Does this explain the occurrence of following passage in Harvani’s book:

“It was unfortunate that he (Nehru) could not resist the temptation of nepotism. Almost all available Nehrus in particular and Kashmiri Pandits in general in Indian Civil Serices suddenly were found to have a flair for diplomacy and with the recommendation of his new found adviser of foreign affairs in external affairs Sir Girija Shankar Bajpai were absorbed in diplomatic services. In return Bajpai claimed that all of his three sons were born diplomats and recruited them in newly created Indian Foreign Service. ”

Both have charted a different course while throwing light on Nehru’s relation with some other prominent Muslim personalities. For example Abbas has written about Nehru’s friendship and cordial relations with S A Brelvi, while Harvani criticises Nehru for letting three cousins of R A Kidwai become diplomats overnight.

Abbas mentions the passing away of Mehboob Khan, the famous film producer, of heart attack just a day after Nehru’s death. According to Abbas, it symbolised the important part played by Nehru in the protection of minorities and the insecurity that arose after his death. Nehru had personally ensured the safety of Abbas’s family members during the partition violence. He ensured they were put in a safe place in Delhi on Abbas’s request.

Harvani and Abbas both admired Nehru but had different sets of expectations from him. Harvani would have liked if Nehru had continued to lead the socialists within the Congress and not aligned himself with policies of Gandhi. He also didn’t like the fact that Nehru retained the services of people like ‘Sir Girija Shankar Bajpai and the ICS officers who had suppressed the Indian people’.

Harvani writes about Nehru’s ‘complete sartorial change’ from the humble dhoti-kurta and Nehru jacket to sherwani and ‘chust pyjama’ tailored by Mohammed Usman, whose clientele included princes and celebrities. Harvani though notes that Nehru did not discard the Khadi and Gandhi cap. For Abbas the ‘sartorial change’ would not have been profound as Nehru retained the Gandhi cap.

The one common thing about Nehru that they have mentioned is a white horse that he rode – at two different places and 16 years apart. According to Harvani, it was a white horse upon which Nehru came to preside over the 1929 Lahore conference. Abbas too has written about a white horse that Nehru rode during the crucial talks in Shimla in 1945. According to Abbas, this ‘created a problem for foot-borne journalists pursuing him for an interview’. The white horse here seems to represent two different line of thinking.

Nehru on a white horse in the 1929 of Lahore signifies the growing up of a prince breaking away from ‘socialist’ thinking. But as Abbas informs that ‘his (Abbas) friend Subhan of the National Herald also acquired a pony and went cantering after Nehru’, Nehru on white horse in the 1945 of Shimla appears a to-be crowned king and yet approachable.

May 27 was Nehru's 49th death anniversary

Nazli Raffiya Begum's fight for her title

2013-03-03T18:35:00.001+00:00

Many interesting personalities emerge from the subcontinent’s colonial history and several of them happen to be women. One such was Nazli Raffiya Begum (1874-1968), princess and sister of celebrated litterateur Atiya Fyzee. Here was a woman who hobnobbed with the crème da le crème of society, threw magnificent parties and lived in an exquisite house identified as a cultural hotspot in the Bombay of yore. Yet she had one unfulfilled desire. More than two decades of her life were spent in petitioning the authorities to be allowed the use of the honorific “ex-Begum of Janjira”.

This event has not been covered much perhaps due to the fact that the Fyzee sisters migrated to Pakistan and Atiya has garnered more attention due to her literary skills and outspokenness. Nazli’s story is symbolic of the difficult path women face against wealthy and well-connected in-laws in matters of marital dispute.

From the 1920s to late 40s Nazli Begum fought to correct the 'injustice' meted out to her. She was married to the Nawab of Janjira, a small princely state near Mumbai while she was only 15 years old in 1887. Nazli marshalled arguments, letters and support from people as varied as Mohammad Iqbal to Cornelia Sorabjee to Sir Sultan Ahmed but to no avail.

One of the points on which Nazli Begum advocated that she be allowed to use the honorific was her claim that the deed of divorce (by her husband Nawab of Janjira) should have been done as per the Shia laws (which she followed) and not Sunni laws which was adhered to by the Nawab of Janjira. Supporting her was Mohammad Iqbal who wrote a letter to the British authorities explaining the injustice done to her.

The Nawab had passed away in 1922 and even during his lifetime questions arose regarding the entitlements and allowances to Nazli Begum as she was staying in Bombay. The argument put forward by the State of Janjira was that the Nawab had divorced her and hence the state had no obligation or responsibility towards her maintenance.

However, it was precisely the issue of divorce that lay at the heart of the dispute. Nazli Begum maintained that she was only told about the divorce after the Nawab had died and when she raised the question of the guards deployed at her place being not paid their due salaries. According to her, the divorce deed was never served to her.

Besides, her argument was that the divorce should have happened following the rules and laws of the sect she belonged to (Shia) and not Sunni sect followed by the Nawab. After almost 25 years of marriage they had no children. The Nawab of Janjira married another lady in 1913 with the consent of Nazli Begum and a son was born on March 6, 1914. She then moved to Bombay 'with the approval and indeed at the request' of Nawab of Janjira.

However, it seems after she left Janjira problems arose regarding the state jewellery and her allowance. On May 23, 1914 a meeting was held at Government House, Mahabaleshwar in the presence of Lady and Lord Willingdon, the Governor of Bombay. It was agreed that guards 'suitable to her rank' will be provided at the state expense and Nazli Begum will take permanent residence in Bombay even though she desired to live in the palace at Janjira.

On April 1, 1915 another agreement was drawn whereby Nazli Begum would relinquish the monthly allowance of Rs 3,000 and return the state jewellery. She would continue to keep the guards at state expense. In July 1926, she wrote to the British authorities complaining about the stoppage of payment for the guards deployed at her residence. The British government informed her that she will have to first take the matter to the courts.

Nazli Begum approached the court of Sar Nyayadish at Murud Janjira which was when she came to know that the Nawab had divorced her and hence there was no question of providing her with any maintenance. On Dec 17, 1930 her suit was dismissed and the court upheld the divorce and agreed that the validity of divorce must be determined by the law followed by the husband.

Nazli Begum appealed against the decision at the Sadar court in Janjira which was normally presided by the Regent assisted by the Dewan. As the state of Janjira was a party to the case, a judge from the provincial state service of Bombay Presidency heard the case. On June 30, 1931, the Sadar court gave a judgment favourable to the Janjira state.

Matters relating to the princely states were directly looked by the Crown. It was expected that by April 1933 the Bombay Presidency States would come under the Viceroy.

Accordingly, Mohammad Iqbal wrote a letter dated 17 April, 1933 to Eric Mieville, private secretary to Lord Willingdon who was the Viceroy. Iqbal’s letter which also summarised the case shows that he was aware of the minutest detail. This was perhaps due to the fact that he was a close friend of Nazli Begum’s sister Atiya.

Iqbal wrote: “A Muslim woman belonging to a particular sect of Islam does not, by the mere fact of marriage, become subject to the law of her husband’s sect if he happens to belong to another sect.” Iqbal raised the point that the deed of divorce was ‘invalid according to the Shia School of Mohammadan Law which must apply to the present case’.

Iqbal did not restrict himself to the religious points. He also dwelt upon the role of the Janjira state to make a strong case for Nazli Begum. “They (Janjira state) cleverly managed to get possession of the jewellery in the possession of the Begum, and further got her to relinquish her right to the maintenance allowance, leaving her only the guard of honour. It seems a part of their premeditated plan to hurl at her face an illegal document in case she insisted on her claim to the guard of honour… The pitiless injustice of the whole plan is quite clear, and since the question now to be settled is practically one of dignity only and not one of inheritance-dignity of an innocent lady of a respectable family whose only fault was that she did not become the mother of an heir to the state…” The poet-philosopher also offered to personally meet the Viceroy in case he needed more details.

While Iqbal’s detailed letter would do a lot of good in current intolerant times for its catholicity, some experts have pointed to the absence of any support from members of the Tyabji and Fyzee clan, some of whom were learned and well versed in religious laws. Did they think Nazli’s case lacked merit? For example, it is not clear under which law or school of thought was the Nikah solemnised. It must be also noted that the eldest sister Zehra, who died in 1940, was married to a cousin which ended in a divorce. Did this affect their relationship with the extended family members?

Iqbal’s letter shows that till that time Nazli Begum was fighting to get the Janjira state pay for the guards at her residence. Subsequent records reveal that she wanted to be at least allowed to use ‘ex-Begum of Janjira’ to her name.

Both the sisters continued to write to exert pressure on the Janjira state. One such letter made the authorities write to the Kolhapur British Resident who also had Janjira under his jurisdiction. Janjira was adamant on not allowing Nazli to have any connection with the deceased Nawab or the state. According to them she had used indecent language for the Nawab and had heavily drained the state’s resources. They also wrote that she was free to remarry and any consideration of her request would result in severe opposition from the people of Janjira.

Critics say that the sisters were ambitious and spendthrift needing the state of Janjira to finance their high lifestyle. This is a point of contention and only a deep and perceptive study would help establish the reasons. One letter written by the artist and Atiya’s husband Samuel Rahman Fyzee gives some clue behind Nazli’s persistence. While in England he wrote to the Secretary of State making a case for Nazli to be allowed to use the title as a moral relief to her so that she gets some satisfaction.

In between her foreign journeys and fight with the Janjira state Nazli Begum had also interested herself for the collection of money under the Tilak Swaraj Fund. Though it is not clear, some reports suggest that she had given up foreign cloth opting for the Indian khaddar on Gandhi’s request.

Aiwan-i-Riffat which the sisters had so lovingly built was a landmark. Khwaja Ahmed Abbas has recorded that he attended a party at Aiwan-i-Riffat where George Bernard Shaw had also come. In the mid 40s they sold it and shifted to a rented accommodation in Malabar Hill.

After Partition they went to Karachi where they were allotted land and named their house Aiwan-i-Riffat. Unfortunately, they had to vacate the bungalow after some years due to problems regarding the ownership of the land.

It is said that Jinnah personally invited Atiya and her husband to Pakistan and hence they went to Karchi. However, Naved Masood the current corporate affairs secretary, in an earlier conversation with this writer mentioned his meeting with senior Supreme Court advocate late Danial Latifi. Latifi told Naved saab, that the Fyzee sisters were advised against going to Pakistan by the extended Tyabji family including Badruddin Tyabji, ICS who remained in India.

Latifi who died in June 2000 did not indicate that the migration had anything to do with Jinnah. The Latifis are related to Tyabjis and also knew Jinnah fairly well and hence Danial Latifi’s observation has some weightage.

Even as late as 1945, Nazli Begum sought an appointment with the Viceroy, to discuss her matter. She was not granted an audience. Could the denial of the use of ‘ex-Begum of Janjira’ to Nazli a factor behind their migration to Pakistan?

WFS - An edited version was published in The Statesman and Free Press Journal

Yusuf Meherally, for whom Bombay stood still

2012-12-22T22:53:00.000+00:00

On 3 July, 1950 bus and tram services in what was then Bombay stopped for few minutes as the clock struck noon. The city was in a state of shock. The city that never stopped, stood still. Several educational institutes, factories and mills remained shut. One of the most potent symbols of the city's financial strength, Bombay Stock Exchange, though officially opened, witnessed no trading. It was a collective mourning and significantly bereft of any fear or force.

A day earlier, Yusuf Meherally, a selfless leader of the masses had passed away. The man who had coined two of the most popular slogans associated with the freedom struggle 'Simon Go Back' and 'Quit India' had roused the same passion in his death as his slogans. Years of struggle had taken its toll and a heart ailment that had struck him while in prison for the 1942 Quit India agitation had rendered him weak, though only physically and not in spirit. Just few days after his death, he was supposed to chair a meeting in Madras. Meherally was only 47 when he died.

Born in a prosperous family in Bombay on 3 September, 1903, his father Jaffer Meherally and his family were pro-British and the young Yusuf was looked upon as a renegade. He studied at Bharda High School and took interest in extra-curriculum activities. A firm believer in the power of youth, he was the main architect of the Bombay Youth League formed in 1928. In February 1928, the Youth League put up an admirably strong opposition in the wake of unprecedented lathi charge while opposing the Simon Commission. Meherally's slogan 'Simon Go Back' was on the lips of every nationalist in the city and country.

Meherally believed in universal brotherhood cutting across race and nationalities. He belonged to that rare breed of leaders for whom personal gratification meant the well-being of fellow countrymen.

At 4 pm on July 3, his coffin draped in the Tiranga started the last journey from Congress House to the Dongri Kabrastan. The four-mile journey was a spectacle but without the key ingredients that have now come to be associated and identified as a barometer of love, popularity, respect and reverence. No live coverage, studio discussions, or array of platitudes thrown across by anybody who was somebody.

It only had mourners in dignified silence and utmost respect, united in grief and a collective sense of irreplaceable loss. Beedi workers in faraway Thallessery in Kerala sported black badges and observed a hartal for their beloved leader.

Active in the Congress, Meherally was among the key individuals who established and strengthened the Congress Socialist Party along with Jayaprakash Narayan, Achyut Patwardhan and Minoo Masani. This satiated his appetite for putting a forceful opposition to the British rule and at the same time working to address the needs and concerns of the working class.

He was a legendary figure for the hawkers, small-time traders, and clerical staff who toiled in commercial firms. He founded the Gumastha Mandal which fought for the rights of the working class. But this was not what his family wanted.

Meherally did a BA in History and Economics from Elphinstone College. With the legal luminary H M Seervai and several other friends, Meherally did a penetrating study on the issue of university reforms. Speaking to students they covered a vast array of issues and came up with recommendations. Active in drama and debates, Meherally made the most of the extra-curriculum activities that Elphinstone College offered and was famous for. It was perhaps at Elphinstone College that he mastered the art of writing witty slogans and attractive posters – a quality he deployed to the maximum opposing the British rule. He then studied for a law degree at Government Law College.

According to Madhu Dandavate, his biographer, the days when Meherally received his Bachelor degrees turned out to be of national significance. He received his BA in History and Economics on 8^th Aug, 1925 – the same day in 1942 when the Quit India resolution was passed - and Bachelors in Law on 26^th January 1929 – the day that is now marked as Republic Day.

Armed with two degrees, Meherally plunged into the freedom movement to the much consternation of his family members. His father had spoken to Mohammed Ali Jinnah to ensure his son’s law career treaded the right path. Meherally had different plans and perhaps the heavens too willed his way. Despite being a qualified lawyer, the High Court, just months after he received his law degree, refused to allow him to practise. This again was a rarity as several leaders were qualified lawyers but none was barred from appearing in courts.

Meherally was a magnet for the city’s and country’s youth. He was a hero for a whole generation of educated, and well-meaning men and women. Much of the people he inspired, nurtured and worked with would graduate to become professors, scholars and social workers. They looked up to him in awe and reverence due to his organisational abilities and clarity of ideas. As Aloo Dastur, former head of the department of Civics and Politics, Bombay University described him '24 carat gold and the likes of him are very difficult to meet these days'.

In 1938 he led the Indian delegation to the World Youth Congress in New York and also attended the World Cultural Conference in Mexico. Inspired by the vast literature on contemporary issues available in the West he decided to to plug the gap in India. Taking the lead, he authored 'Leaders of India' which ran into several editions. It was translated in Gujarati, Urdu and Hindi. It would be illustrative to share some excerpts from the Foreword he wrote:

“The rise of the pamphlet and the booklet as a powerful weapon for the spread of ideas has been truly remarkable. During my visits to these continents (US and Europe) I was greatly impressed by the part that such brochures play in moulding public opinion. In Europe and America there exists a wealth of topical literature that is in striking contrast to its scantiness in India. The Current Topics Series of Padma Publications is an attempt to meet this need. The idea is to publish every few months a booklet on a subject of topical or special interest having regard to present-day controversies and their bearing on the future. The series will not be restricted to political questions only. Every title will be published in a pleasing format, at a price within the reach of all.”

In 1942 when his name was nominated for the election to Bombay Mayoralty, he was lodged in Lahore jail. Vallabhbhai Patel was keen that Meherally stands for the election though a section of the Congress leadership was not in his favour. He was released from prison to take part in the elections and won comfortably becoming the youngest Mayor in the corporation’s history.

Meherally had a fine taste for art and culture reflecting his aristocratic upbringing and genuine love for India's diversity and rich heritage. In October 1949, he organised an exhibition of pictures and paintings tracing India’s freedom struggle beginning from 1857 in Bangalore. It had more than 200 pictures and was a much talked about event. It is said that he planned and designed a catalogue of another exhibition from his hospital bed. At Chetana, situated at Mumbai’s famed Kala Ghoda, Meherally organised an art and cultural event inviting personalities like Ustad Allauddin Khan and others.

Meherally’s motto was ‘Live Dangerously’ which he normally shared with friends and colleagues. On the morning of 17 December 1940 when the Britishers arrested him, the cotton markets, bullion exchange, stock market did ‘not transact any business’. It might be inferred that they must have remained close, but they were not. They were open for business, but chose not to do any!

For Meherally ‘Live Dangerously’ meant working to ensure a safe, secure, prosperous and healthy life for fellow citizens putting his own life at risk.

Mushaira in the countryside with IPS as chief guest

2012-11-01T17:33:00.001+00:00

Just when you would think that a Mushaira would not attract a lot of viewers I found out that thousands of people thronged to attend one in village Usia in UP's Ghazipur district. The gathering had around 20 poets who kept the audience awake and busy till early morning the next day.

An October evening when it's not that chilly makes for an ideal function like a Mushaira. Grandly titled 'All India Mushaira' the chief guest was M W Ansari, IPS who is ADG in Chhattisgarh police. The Zamania Circle Officer Kamal Kishore was also among the reciters.

According to a local report, chief guest Ansari said: "Both Hindi and Urdu are my language, but justice has not been done with Urdu. Both the languages must be supported and encouraged."

The Mushaira was dedicated to late Haroon Rashid, who was the editor of Urdu daily Inquilab and was born in Usia. The posters proclaimed - 'Ek Shaam Haroon Rashid Ke Naam'.

Some memorable lines

"Insaniyat ka jazba dikhane lage hai log, bhookh se gash khakar girne waalo ko mirgi batakar joota soonghaane lage hai log"

"Yeh mat samajhna ki tumse woh pyaar karte hain, haseen log hain aksar shikaar karte hain"

Babur Ki Aulad in London

2012-10-20T18:22:00.000+01:00

I had always wanted to watch Babur Ki Aulad. So, when a mail arrived from The Nehru Centre, London informing that Bharatiya Vidya Bhawan will play host (Oct 10, 2012) I marked it on my calendar. As the name suggests it provides a glimpse into the lives of Mughal emperors.

The narrative revolves around the imprisoned last Mughal king Bahadur Shah Zafar and his interaction with a history scholar from the current time who gets transported back to Zafar's cell in Rangoon. The sad, lonely and forlorn emperor gets candid talking about his ancestors, correcting the youngster's Urdu in between.

In a moment of heat, Zafar reminds his 'friend' that while a father's blood can be disputed there can be no ambiguity regarding the mother's identity. This was in response to questions about the Indianness of the Mughals. Bahadur Shah Zafar's mother was a Hindu. Without doubt, Tom Alter excelled in his role as the weak and ailing Zafar. His voice had the depth and pain of an exiled king who was only too eager to share slice of Mughal history.

It starts from Babur and reflects upon the emotional struggle he faced between choosing to live in India or returning to Afghanistan. The king who loved a good glass, established the Mughal kingdom, but longed for Kabul. Babur's dialogues reminded me of Baburnama that I read couple of years ago. The frailties and courage of a king really strikes you. Sayeed Alam the director of the play played the role of Babur with finesse. "It was after defeating Ibrahim Lodhi and not Rana Sanga that the Mughal found their foot in India," informs Zafar to his wide eyed friend.

The play brings out the power struggle for the Mughal throne between heirs down the generation. Most of the emperors witnessed ugly power struggles with the accompanying palace intrigue and battles between brothers. Akbar's confrontation with Bairam Khan, Nur Jahan's wish to see Prince Shahryar on the throne instead of Prince Khurram (Shahjahan) who himself saw enough misery in his last days were well captured.

When Aurangzeb appeared on stage the youngster remarked that he doesn't look like even Aurangzeb's servant. The king who imposed jaziya and expanded Mughal rule lived on earnings made by copying the Quran and stitching caps. Right from Babur, Humayun to the 'benovelent' Akbar, the 'womaniser' Jehangir, the 'magnificent' Shah Jahan, the 'mighty' Aurangzeb to Bahadur Shah Zafar - none of them went for Haj - despite their wealth and power and capability.

The last Nizam, touted as the richest man of his time, did not go to Haj even though he made arrangements for pilgrims in Mecca at his expense Faith aside, being in constant command was perhaps a prerequisite to safeguard the kingdom and maintain ones hold. A trip to Mecca meant being away from the throne for few months, at a time when a few days would turn the tide. However, they never shied away from sending unwanted and troublesome relatives, generals to Haj to have their paths clear.

The title Babur Ki Aulad is apt as the play is indeed about the sons of Babur. It does touch upon the attempt to use Babur Ki Aulad to label a community as alien to India. As the narrative flows it reveals why the Mughals acted the way they did. Some of the more popular Mughals were born of Hindu mother - Akbar, Jehangir, Shah Jahan Bahadur Shah Zafar.

It is an irony that the principal language used in Babur's time disappeared from the Mughal court quite soon. Chaghatay, the language in which Babur wrote his Baburnama, which was his first language gave way to Persian. While Akbar could converse in it, his son Jehangir could only understand it. Babur's alienation had started much earlier.

The play originally written by Salman Khurshid in English was translated in Urdu by Ather Farouqui. "We thought it fit that the play be in Urdu in London and for the English version you have to come down to India," Khurshid said. Also present was the Indian High Commissioner to UK Dr Jaimini Bhagwati with his wife.

When the play ended it was a relief to see Tom Alter stand erect. During the whole play all he had was a bed, one-fourth his size, which made me sitting in the audience constantly uncomfortable. Tom was not very happy with the cameras flashing all along during the performance and spelled out his displeasure.

"Hindustan mein inse zyaada gora aur inse achhi Urdu bolne waala koi nahin hain," said Sayeed Alam at the end.

Fathema Ismail: Mumbai's millionaire polio activist

2012-10-09T15:34:00.000+01:00

In 2011, India declared itself polio-free. It had taken decades of government and civil society intervention to achieve this result in a country where an attack of polio, and the physical disability it caused, was traditionally regarded as punishment for past sins.

One of the early pioneers of polio activism in India was Fathema Ismail, who was born in 1903. Ismail was the sister of the flamboyant mill owner, Umar Sobhani, an ardent Congress party activist who was very close to M.K. Gandhi and who, in fact, supported the party financially in a major way. Given her brother’s proximity to nationalist leaders, Ismail was naturally also drawn to issues of social emancipation.

In 1936, she had served as the Secretary of the Simla branch of the All India Women’s Conference. Her Nepean Sea Road residence in Bombay (now Mumbai), where she lived after marriage, was a meeting ground for members of the party. She was known to have hidden Jayaprakash Narayan, then a young freedom fighter, under her bed to escape getting arrested by the police! She was also actively involved in women’s education and was a founder member of All India Village Industries Association.

Her life, however, took a different turn when in the 1940s her two-and-a-half-year-old daughter was diagnosed with poliomyelitis. The shocked mother realised there was very little that could be done, but driven by her personal anguish, she travelled the length and breath of the country to ensure that her daughter got the best medical attention available at that time. More than her daughter’s condition, it was the attitude of the medical community and lack of proper treatment for polio patients that disturbed her.

Finally, Ismail was referred to Dr M.G. Kini, a renowned orthopaedic surgeon based in Madras (now Chennai). For around eight months, her daughter underwent treatment at Stanley Medical Hospital under the supervision of Dr Kini and all the while she herself made sure to imbibe the basic principles that underlay the rehabilitation of the polio stricken.

From Madras, she went to Pune next, since it offered her daughter more salubrious weather conditions than those that prevailed in Bombay. Here Ismail regularly visited the Army Rehabilitation Centre, which took care of injured soldiers and officers, to observe for herself the methods employed there.

After around three years of such work, she decided to put her experience to good use by assisting parents struggling to get their disabled children treated. She single-handedly networked with the medical community to achieve this and her first step was to collaborate with Bombay’s leading doctors to start a rehabilitation centre.

By May 1947, even as the country was on the threshold of independence, the Physiotherapy and Rehabilitation Centre for Infantile Paralysis had taken shape. But it did not have premises from which to operate. The space crunch was eventually resolved after Dr A.V. Baliga, a surgeon and educationist, offered his clinic to Ismail since he himself was going to the US on a six-month tour. Thanks to Dr Baliga's generosity the Centre could start functioning and patients began to trickle in as word spread. By July 1948, the Centre had a waiting list of more than a hundred patients with around 80 children under treatment.

Once the Centre was up and running, Ismail began to work towards the creation of supportive organisations like the Society for the Education of the Crippled (SEC), the Fellowship of the Physically Handicapped, and the Children's Orthopaedic Hospital, all of which continue to be around today.

Ismail was a true visionary who understood how difficult it was for differently-abled children to get access to educational and recreational facilities and she worked hard to address this concern.

Veteran journalist, M.V. Kamath, who was then a reporter with ‘The Free Press Journal’, did a story on her, naming her India’s Sister Elizabeth Kenny. Kenny, incidentally, was a remarkable Australian nurse who had evolved rehabilitation techniques for polio patients. Such media coverage made Ismail’s work better known among those who really needed such support and with this the number of patients who sought medical assistance increased dramatically. People began to realise that children with disabilities had as much right to a future as any other child.

With the phenomenal increase in the number of patients, Ismail decided to expand the movement. Since the rich and educated could seek assistance from economically prosperous countries, she decided to focus on the less privileged. They clearly needed help and information.

In September 1947, just after the country had gained independence, Ismail - ably supported and guided by the socially conscious doctors and surgeons – established the ‘Society for the Rehabilitation of Disabled and Crippled Children’. As Ismail put it herself, it was to “organise diagnostic and treatment facilities and to educate the public on the problem as well as to collect statistics”. The government could now no longer overlook her pioneering efforts in the area, and released a grant to ensure that the good work being done could continue.

In 1951, she represented India at the Second International Polio Poliomyelitis Congress. She also visited several countries to gain first-hand experience on the different ways to support and help polio survivors. She was awarded the Padma Shri in 1958 and was nominated to the Rajya Sabha in 1978. The pioneering activist passed away on February 4, 1987.

Piecing together the shards of Fathema Ismail’s remarkable life is not easy given the sparse information available. For instance, the question arises as to what happened to her daughter whose treatment had led to the determined mother emerging as a disability activist. Again Kamath provides some clues. In the 1970s, he was introduced to a certain Miss Ismail at a party in New York. As he notes in his book, ‘Reporter at Large’, she turned out to be the daughter of Fathema Ismail and bore no visible trace of any disability. She was married and had children.

But it was not just her own daughter to whom Ismail had reached out - she had helped innumerable children stand on their own feet and enjoy lives on their own terms. Today, she continues to do this through the institutions she built and nurtured.

—(Women's Feature Service, Published in Kashmir Times)

Kamila Tyabji: Passion WIT charisma

2012-09-02T18:34:00.000+01:00

In the late 1940s, an Indian woman was making her mark in the courtrooms of London. Kamila Tyabji's Oxford education and crisp saris sought to break the stereotype of Indian women. She was also the first woman to practice in the Privy Council Chamber. However, years of staying in England did not make her lose her affinity to India, where she returned to start the Women's India Trust (WIT) in 1968, leaving behind a successful career in law.

Born on February 14, 1918, Tyabji studied at St Xavier's College, Mumbai, after which she joined St Hugh's College at Oxford to study law. She was granddaughter of Congressman Badruddin Tyabji, who had famously granted bail to Lokmanya Tilak in 1897. Her father, Faiz Tyabji, was a distinguished lawyer and social reformer and made available for his children the best education possible.

Tyabji took forward her family's tradition of strong and independent women when she did not yield to her parents' wish of having her come back to Mumbai after finishing her studies. Instead, she built a successful practice in London, excelling in insurance cases. Her sojourns to court became the talk of the town and she was credited with having introduced 'brilliant silken saris to the somber monotony of London's law courts'.

What finally prompted her to quit her charmed social circle of London and come back to India was the famine that hit Bihar in the early 1960s. She decided to join Jayaprakash Narayan and work for grassroots women.

After studying the law, politics could definitely have been her calling. After all, Tyabji had sailed on the same ship as Indira Gandhi for Oxford, and she had a family background in politics – even her mother, Salima was a member of the Bombay Legislative Assembly in 1937. Yet, she consciously chose to stay away from that arena.

Social activism is how she chose to make a difference. And it is as the founder of the Women's India Trust (WIT) that she is best remembered. With a capital of Rs 10,000 she started WIT, an organisation that did pioneering work from Panvel, a few kilometers away from Mumbai. It began by training marginalised and unskilled women to stitch sari petticoats. The idea was to make them economically independent.

Today it also runs a nursing home, kindergarten teachers' training classes and other vocational skill enhancing programmes.

Tyabji's formal training in law meant she also kept up with the burning social issues of her times. The Shah Bano case and the Uniform Civil Code also kept her busy and she did not feel shy about voicing her opinion and concerns.

So close was she to the subject of women's empowerment that she was chosen to represent India at the United Nations on the status of women. But, for her, these foreign trips were also about scouting for potential markets and consumers for WIT products. In fact, it was her dedication and enthusiasm that propelled WIT products towards foreign markets.

Today, WIT continues to grow and in its quest to help as many less privileged and unskilled women as possible, it has broadened its activities. Apart from the food processing units, there are departments dedicated to tailoring, screen printing, toy making, and block printing. Keeping in mind the lack of formal education, many girls and women are given professional training so that they can become financially independent in time.

A whole range of products, from chutneys, jams, marmalades and fresh fruit squashes to greeting cards, gift envelopes, home linen, paper products, toys, mobile covers and wallets are made by these women and exported to countries such as Spain, Germany, the UK and Australia. WIT's cloth and slipper bags are also used by top hotels across India.

Tyabji passed away on May 17, 2004, but just as her saris had made heads turn in London, WIT products, in their own way, have also carved a niche in today's competitive market.

(This article was originally done for Women's Feature Service and published in The Hindu)