Golden legacy of turmoil and repression

A searing, terrifying story about intolerance, persecution and religious fanaticism that characterises Pakistan’s recent history, in which democracy is just a facade.
Golden legacy of turmoil and repression

Some of the best works of fiction have emerged from societies and countries in turmoil. An ordered, peaceful society somehow rarely produces great, creative writing. Perhaps it has something to do with repression and the lack of freedom of expression, in turbulent times.

Hence, putting pen to paper becomes a welcome release, another way of expressing what cannot be said aloud in public, for fear of persecution, even death. Which is why great novels have been written that subtly challenge the authorities, while giving hope to those suffering from tyranny. Russian writers like Dostoyevsky, Tolstoy, and more recently, Pasternak, are some examples.

All this comes to mind while going through The Golden Legend, an enthralling novel by Nadeem Aslam, a Pakistani who lives in the UK. Just like Russia once did, Pakistan, too, provides a fertile ground for creative writing. Repression, intolerance, numbing violence, persecution, and religious fanaticism have characterised Pakistan’s recent history.

Add to that a brutal military regime, and its affiliate, the shadowy and sinister but all-powerful Inter Services Intelligence (ISI), which permeates so much of Pakistan life, and you have a potent, toxic brew. Democracy and an independent judiciary are only a facade, implies the author.

Many of these elements are powerfully interwoven in this book. The setting is a true-life incident which took place in Pakistan some years ago: a supposed American diplomat was driving down a busy street when two Pakistanis drew up on a motorcycle to his car window, the pillion rider carrying a gun. But before they could shoot, he killed them with his own firearm. Whether they had been out to rob or kill him remained a mystery. However, the American was apprehended and put in judicial custody, awaiting trial.  

Washington claimed “diplomatic immunity” for him, demanding that he be released and brought back to the US. It later turned out that he was actually a CIA agent. The Islamists in Pakistan wanted him tried for murder. Islamabad and Washington were in a fix. Islamabad could not release him as this would anger the Pakistani public.

Then, an ingenious way was found out of the dilemma: Under Sharia Law, “blood money” could be paid to the relatives of the victims, and the American set free. The Islamists could not object to a law they swore by and Washington would get their CIA operative back. And this is exactly what happened.
The author has skillfully used this actual incident to paint a picture of present-day Pakistan. And it is not a pretty picture.

There is a sub-plot, concerning Christians residing in the fictional city of the novel. They are considered pariah by most Pakistanis. A necklace with a cross found in a mosque is the excuse to torch an entire section of the city, the houses carefully marked for destruction.

A young boy attempts to assault a Christian girl with a knife because he wants to see if the blood of Christians is black, as his mother has told him. Nevertheless, there are redeeming characters in the book, and the love story which is at its centre, is touching.

The least convincing character is a Kashmiri Muslim who turns militant after his brother is killed by the Indian security forces. He crosses the border into Pakistan, but becomes disillusioned after attending a training camp for jihadis.

Referring to the atrocities committed against Christians, he says, “Pakistan claimed that it wished to help Kashmiris in their struggle against Indian injustices, but this was how Pakistan treated Pakistanis. What a joke. What a behenchod joke.”

Another Pakistani who hasn’t yet given up all hope for his country has the following take about how he feels: “Despair has to be earned. I personally have not done all I can to change things. I haven’t yet earned the right to despair.” That’s well put.

There are still plenty of people in Pakistan who are bravely, sometimes at the risk of their lives, trying to change their society for the better and who haven’t yet given up on that struggle.

But that person’s son, who has migrated to Pakistan, has. “My son hates Pakistan,” the father says. “He actually used the word the last time he visited. He said it was a rotten and barbaric place. Full of liars, fools, and brutes. He said he hated it, and that he would never return to live here.”
That’s a description that not many Pakistanis would like to hear (India’s record in Kashmir does not read any better). Be that as it may, The Golden Legend is a searing, occasionally terrifying read, full of insights.

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