Leap In The Dark

Twenty years might seem like a long time to go without knowing your father, but for Aatish Taseer that gap was easier to bridge than the gulf that formed between them when his father accused him of having no understanding of what it meant to be either Muslim or Pakistani. After being raised in India by his Sikh mother and her family, Taseer accepted that his father had a point. In his book Stranger To History Taseer recounts the journey he undertook in an attempt to gain that understanding by travelling through the Muslim world and the people he met along the way.

That's not to say I didn't have any questions after having read the book, because I did, and thanks to the good people at Random House Canada I was able to pass them along to Aatish Taseer via e-mail. I'm sure some of my questions arose from my own lack of knowledge or even from misunderstanding of what he said in the first place. Thankfully he very patiently has taken the time to respond to each of the questions with the same care he showed in the writing of his book. So if you appreciate this interview, you'll definitely find the book a fascinating experience, one that I highly recommend.

Before you began your journey what if any expectations or hopes did you carry into it with regards to both your Muslim heritage and how it might help to bridge the gap between you and your father?

I was never in search of any personal religious fulfilment or identity of any kind. I wanted only to understand the distances that had arisen between my father and me. The reason I wanted to do this was because I felt instinctually that there was something deeper behind those distances, something that would help illuminate a situation wider than my own personal context. And if there was anything that aroused my curiosity at that early stage, it was only the question of what made my father—a disbeliever by his own admission—in some very important way still a Muslim.

Why did you consider it so important to make the journey - you had been estranged from your father for nearly two decades what type of connection were you hoping to forge between you?

Yes, but I had overcome that initial estrangement with my father. The silence between us was new. And I found it difficult to turn my back on the goodwill and hopefulness that that reconciliation between my father and me had produced. It was not just our personal relationship, but Pakistan too. Which formed such an important cultural and historical component of my family history, both maternal and paternal, as well as the history of the land I grew up in. It would have been very hard to pretend that the new estrangement with my father was not wrapped up in a deeper feeling of loss. But I was not travelling in search of reconciliation; I would have found it strange to travel with those kinds of personal objectives in mind. I was travelling to understand.

You mention the term "cultural" or "secular" Muslim in reference to your father, can you define what you mean by that?

It is a term that my father gave me and it is term that grew in meaning as I travelled. I took it in the beginning to mean benign things such as an adherence to customs and festivals, a feeling for food and dress. But as I travelled I found that it contained other things besides. And these were usually political and historical attitudes, attitudes that were themselves like articles of faith, now related to Jews and American, now to Hindus and India. They almost always included a certain prejudiced view of the pre-Islamic past of a Muslim country. They often translated into a historical narrative, at the centre of which was the 7th century Arab conquest and the triumph of Islam, and on either end of which, were enemies of the faith. Now these things are not in the Book; they are not, as such, a part of the religion; neither are the prejudices that go along with them; but to many they are more important than the religion itself. They were what could make my father, despite his faithlessness, a Muslim.

What inspired you to tell a very personal story - your relationship with your father - and why is it integral to the book? Could you have undertaken a similar examination of the Muslim faith without raising the subject of your father?

No. The personal, though it had wider ramifications, as the personal often does, was what lay behind my interest. I am not a professional writer of books on Islam; my next book, The Templegoers, has nothing to do with either Islam or Muslims. I wrote about the subject because I felt I had to. And it would have been very strange for me to ignore, especially in a book like this, a first book, the reasons that I was drawn to the subject. Which, by the way, are not simply my relationship with my father; that was one aspect; but much bigger than this, in fact towering over the narrative, is the Partition. And it is in relation to this event—in my opinion, the forerunner of what began to happen throughout the Muslim world during the latter part of the last century—that my parents’ relationship became important, as did my maternal grandfather’s grief at being separated from his country.

Although you visited more than just the countries mentioned in the book during your journey you chose only to talk about four, aside from Pakistan. What was it about Turkey, Syria, Saudi Arabia, and Iran that decided you to talk about them instead of some of the others?

They all represented, in different ways, the trouble Islam had had in adapting to modern political life. In Turkey, secularism had been turned into a soft tyranny, where the state was writing sermons and choosing clerics. In Syria, it was for years not part of the program, but was slowly creeping back. In Iran, the fury of the revolution had come and gone, and we could have a window into what might come next. Finally there was Pakistan, which, in my opinion, had paid the heaviest price for the faith. It had broken with itself and its history to form a nation on the thinnest of thin grounds. And the nation had been, from start to finish, a disaster. It had left millions of people sixty years later dispossessed and full of hateful lies. All of that remained to be dealt with; the ugly idea of a religiously cleansed society had yet to be fully discredited in the minds of people, though on practical terms, it had completely perished. And to have to do all of this in a climate of war and insecurity, with interference from foreign powers! It was a very bleak picture; hard to see how the land—not the country—would return to itself. (I won’t speak of Saudi, because it formed a small part of the narrative in the book.)

At one point in the book you mention the Wahhabis and their influence upon modern Islam especially in Arabic countries like Saudi Arabia. Who are they, what is their influence and how is it expressed?

They have had forerunners, and interestingly, always at times when Islam felt itself in danger. Some consider Ibn Taymiyyah, a 13th century scholar, living in the times when the Mongols sacked Baghdad, to be the first Wahhabi. But truly, the movement began in the 18th century with an alliance between a Najd scholar and a chieftain. The movement, mainly decrying the excesses that had come into the faith and preaching a purer, more Arab Islam, had some political and religious success before it was crushed, and crushed completely, by the Ottomans. Its resurgence in the 20th century can be linked to the rise of Saudi Arabia and its tremendous oil wealth, which it has used to spread Wahhabism to places, which practised milder, more tolerant forms of the religion. But I think it would be too easy to say that, and it doesn’t explain the first Wahhabi success. My own feeling is that Wahhabism represents a tendency within Islam—and perhaps also in other forms of organised thought—to close its doors, and retreat within itself, when it is faced with a political or intellectual threat too great to confront.

Do the Wahabis have anything to do with the split between Sunni and Shiite Muslims and are you able to explain the difference between the two groups?

No, nothing whatsoever. That was a split that happened some 1000 years before. And there was, I suspect, a kind of anti-Arab feeling, originating in recently conquered Persia, behind it. But yes, the Wahhabis have exacerbated the tensions between the two groups because they are deeply intolerant not only of Shiism, but of any local form of Islam.

In the book you talk about how history is being distorted by certain religious leaders in order to justify the notion that Muslims are persecuted. What purpose is served by creating this attitude among the faithful?

It is comforting to them. It makes them feel that they are not responsible for their wretchedness, that it is all the work of a grand conspiracy which seeks to keep them down. They then, can carry on feeling envious and resentful about the big, modern world, without ever having to do the hard work of engaging it. But it is a very pernicious cycle. Because the less you engage it, the faster you fall behind, the harder it becomes to pick yourself up. And in the end when you’re nothing it becomes very easy for some greasy-faced fanatic to feed you comforting lies.

You've ended up presenting a rather negative view of the current state of Islam, from your depiction of Iran and Syria, the sentiments expressed by young religious Muslims in Turkey and Britain, to your description of your father's "moderate Muslim" as being "too little moderation and in the wrong areas". Was there anything you came across in your travels that countered that impression - that perhaps gave you something you could identify with or the hope there was more to Islam than anger and resentment?

This is the kind of question that makes assumptions I do not share. I don’t consider it ‘positive’ to travel in a country and shut your eyes to its realities. Neither do I think it is at all helpful for schoolboy English travellers to go to these places and come back with reports of their teeming bazaars and lavish hospitality. Fortunately, I come from the sub-continent, which has its fair share of crowded bazaars and generous people, so I feel no need, when I am travelling in the Islamic world to overlook the gloom of Syria or the tyranny of Iran, in the interest of feeling upbeat when I come home. I think it is cynical and patronising to go to these places and tell tales of how the people are capable of a good joke and a cheerful chat as if people and societies should not amount to more. And for people who are coming from societies that have achieved more, this kind of attitude expresses the worst kind of foreigner’s disregard.

Do you have any concerns about what non-Muslims will think after reading this book? What do you hope they will take away from it?

No. The book is published in eleven countries, some of which I have never even visited. It would be impossible for me to conceive what ‘non-Muslims,’ as a whole, might think.

Stranger To History was released a year ago, and I was wondering what the reaction to it has been from Muslims in general and your family in particular?

Again, this is not the kind of judgement I’m in a position to make. What I will say is that despite the fact that the book is only distributed and not published in Pakistan, I have received the maximum number of letters from that country. I was particularly moved by one Pakistani student who wrote: ‘a lot of us agree with you but wouldn’t write this sort of thing for reasons that need not be explained to you.”

However, I know that Muslim reviewers, whether they be in Australia, India, England or Pakistan, have all given the book a rough time. Which is an interesting thing in itself.

At one point you refer to both yourself and your father as the "Stranger To History" of the book's title. Could you explain what you mean by that?

The title, I feel, works on different levels. In the case of my father, I was thinking of Pakistan and how it turned it’s back on its shared history with the sub-continent in the interest of realising the aims of the faith. That was one historical break. But I was also thinking of a more general rejection of pre-Islamic India among the sub-continent’s Muslims, a rejection, which has translated into deeper illusions about their place of origin, many believing they came from Islamically purer countries, such as Afghanistan and Persia. There was also, of course, the personal estrangement, when it came to my father’s relationship with me. That was my estrangement, too, along with an estrangement from the land that is Pakistan, and to which both my parents are linked.

You mention near the end of the book, the one benefit you derived from your journey was it reconnected you to Pakistan. What makes that connection so important to you in light of the divide between your father and yourself?

It is the connection to the land and people of Pakistan that is important. That land, and its culture, is still, for all the distances that have been created, a part of the shared culture of the sub-continent. The things shared are language, dress, ideas of caste, poetry and song. And it is of these things that nations are made, not religion; that has shown itself to be too thin a glue. When one considers that enduring shared culture, despite everything that has been done to break it, one is forced to reject the intellectual argument for the Partition as false. There is no two-nation theory; there are no separate Indian nations; there is just the giant plural society of India, held together by an idea no less subtle, and yet no less powerful, than that of Greece or Europe. It is this society that must on some level regain its wholeness, not along angst-ridden national or religious lines, but as part of a peace worthy of a continent.
 
You set out to find common ground with your father by seeking to gain an understanding of how someone who doesn't practice the religion can still call themselves a Muslim. After what you observed in your travels, do you still refer to yourself as a Muslim in spite of the fact that you appear to have nothing in common with people like your father?

No. During the journey itself, I realised that neither on a religious level nor on a ‘cultural’ one could I ever be part of the ‘civilisation of faith’, which is, in the end, a vision of purity. I have too much hybridity in my life, welcome hybridity, to accept a world-view such as that.

I'd just like to conclude by thanking Aatish Taseer for the honesty and directness with which he answered the questions I posed, and his patience with any questions I may have asked out of ignorance and lack of awareness. Part of the problem in this world today is our inability to communicate with each other because of our refusal to be sensitive to how our perceptions of the world have been shaped by environment and conditioning. People like Aatish Taseer, who are willing to take the time to answer those questions while pointing out why they are inappropriate, are our best hope to bridge what right now seems like an insurmountable gap that exists regardless of religion or creed. How we respond will dictate the future of our world

Posted by Richard Marcus at 04:21 PM | Permalink

The works of the late British author Evelyn Waugh, focused mainly on the life and mores of the upper class in his country from the period leading up to WW II to the years immediately following the war. While some of his later works were primarily concerned with defending the place of Catholics in British society, (it is still part of the British constitution that no British monarch can be married to a Catholic) he is probably best known for his ability as a satirist. He was equally comfortable writing subtle, dark pieces which left one decidedly unsettled after reading them, to composing nearly farcical send-ups of everything from the military to journalists that were close to side-splitting funny. Either way his acid tipped pen could invariably be counted on to cut his subject matter down a peg or two, and hold any number of sacred cows up for ridicule.

Yet no matter how scathing he might be towards certain elements within society or the behaviour of a certain class of people, there would be always one or two characters in each book whom we the reader could relate to on some level or another. Often times this character would either serve as our guide into the world Waugh had created and we would see events unfold from his or her vantage point. Most of the time this character was usually an outsider being introduced to what on the surface is something new and splendid. However, as we and they observe more closely it turns out to be suffering some sort of malaise and we first see the wear and tear around its edges, until gradually the depth of its corruption is revealed.

In 1981, Public Broadcasting Services (PBS) telecast an adaptation of Waugh's Brideshead Revisited starring Jeremy Irons that went on to become one of the most successful imported mini-series. Of course it only stands to reason that having seen the success of one Waugh story from the page to the screen that others would be soon to follow. Now Acorn Media has released a package featuring two of those follow up releases, A Handful Of Dust and Scoop, under the title of The Evelyn Waugh Collection. The former being a dark look at the bored and idle rich, while the latter is a somewhat more farcical look at the press.

A Handful Of Dust tells the story of the disintegration of the marriage between Brenda and Tony Last. For while Tony is quite content living in the country keeping up the old family home, Brenda is bored with country life and wants the fun of playing in London. It's because she's so bored that Brenda begins an affair with a selfish social climber nicknamed "Beaver". As usual the husband is the last to know in these instances and he quickly becomes rather an object of ridicule for Brenda and her new city friends as she and her paramour lead the high life paid for with Tony's money. Eventually Brenda convinces Tony she needs a flat in London so she can take "classes", and she and her lover are able to set up house together.

It's only when their young son dies in a hunting accident that Brenda decides to make the break with Tony. Being a gentleman, Tony agrees to grant Brenda a divorce and even goes so far as to pretend to be the guilty party by hiring a woman to spend the weekend with him in a hotel so he can be accused of adultery. However when Brenda starts to make unreasonable demands in terms of alimony - she has a young man to support in a style that he's accustomed to after all - he refuses to go along with the deal. Instead, when a chance meeting throws him together with an explorer setting off to chart unexplored regions of the Amazon river in South America, he agrees to fund an expedition and sets off into the wilds leaving Brenda high and dry.

While the acting of the leads is universally excellent, with Kristen Scott Thomas playing Brenda, Rupert Graves her young lover, and James Wilby the cuckold husband Tony, Anjelica Huston, Judi Dench, and Alec Guiness steal the spotlight with their cameo appearances at various points throughout the film. Unfortunately the script doesn't quite match up to the quality of the acting, for while we do feel some genuine sympathy for Tony, and loathing for Brenda and Beaver, we're never quite sure what has really motivated Brenda to take up with this young man who has almost no redeeming qualities and who treats her quite badly. He's so obviously only interested in her money, that one can't quite fathom how she could want to stay involved with him for any length of time let alone be the person she'd leave her husband for.

Scoop on the other hand is not only well acted, it is a much better script. It does a great job in skewering all aspects of the British press from the reporters in the field to the owners of the papers and their editorial staff. Through a case of mistaken identity young William Boot, a nature writer for "The Beast", is sent off to the African republic of Ishmaelia to cover the civil war supposedly in progress. When he arrives he discovers the press core are all camped out in the capital city's one hotel and there's no sign of any fighting going on anywhere. Under orders to report back on a "Patriots" victory by Tuesday from the megalomanic owner of The Beast (Donald Pleasence), Boot is in serious danger of being fired until he uncovers an actual plot to overthrow the president by the minister of information.

Michael Maloney does a wonderful job playing William Boot, who although innocent to the ways of the world turns out not to be exactly stupid, as he does his best to report on a non-existent war. He is ably supported by Denholm Elliot as his editor at The Beast and Herbert Lom as a mysterious businessman who shows up in Ishmaelia just in time to help stage a counter revolution. Scoop is a rollicking ride which, although set in the 1930's, is every bit as topical in its treatment of the press as if were set today. This script captures Waugh's biting wit and acid tongue perfectly in both its depiction of the press's incompetence and the cynical manipulation of events by the unscrupulous businessman so he can secure Ishmaelia's mineral rights.

As both Scoop and A Handful Of Dust were originally shot in the 1980's neither are up to the standards were used to form modern productions when it comes to technical matters like sound and image quality. However these factors don't detract from the quality of the productions so they shouldn't be a deterrent to purchasing the package. Good acting, and, especially in the case of Scoop, quality script writing, overcome any technical deficiencies that you might experience.

Satire has become something of a lost art these days, so The Evelyn Waugh Collection from Acorn Media, is a very timely reminder of what that genre actually entails. Unlike today's writers who seem to lack the subtlety necessary to bring it off, Waugh never descended to the level of cheap laughs in order to win his audience over, and both productions in this package live up to that standard. This is an ideal opportunity to see two works by one of the masters of satire brought to life and shouldn't be passed up by anyone who still appreciates the genuine article.

Posted by Richard Marcus at 10:02 AM | Permalink

At one time or another I'm sure all of us have fantasized, or at least thought, of leaving big city life behind for the bucolic pleasures of living in the country. What could be better than to live in a small village - or even better a small village by the sea shore. It wouldn't take you long before you knew everybody, and while you might not like everyone, at least you'll know everybody well enough to know who to avoid. Of course if you ever get sick you'll be able to rely on the local general practitioner (GP) to take care of you.

Ah yes, the country doctor. An older man of the old school who is loved by all and has been present at the birth of everyone for the last three generations. A real country gentleman, he not only sets a broken arm and stitches up little Johnny's lacerated forearm when he tumbles down the cliff face, he'll find time in his busy schedule to sit and share a cup of tea with the lonely pensioner whose family has forgotten her. He can even be counted on to help out in lambing season when the local vet can't be everywhere at once and somebody has to reach up inside the mother sheep and turn the lamb so it comes out the right way.

Well if you end up in the small fishing village of Portwenn in Cormwall you'll soon discover that nobody bothered filling in local GP Dr. Martin Ellingham about what's required of him in the roll of that idealized country doctor. In fact, if you tried he would probably give them a blank stare, ask them what the hell they're prattling on about, and then promptly proceed to ignore them. Dr. Ellingham is the antithesis of the stereotype country doctor image we carry around in our heads. Brusque to the point of rude, honest to the point of - well rude again, and completely lacking in tact, he's also a brilliant and dedicated doctor. He not only deals with all the run of the mill illnesses a GP is expected to, he's able to handle anything the little fishing and farming community can throw at him - and they throw him some strange curve balls.

While you'll probably never want to make use of the good doctor's services, and most likely won't be forced to, he and his patients do make for some highly entertaining television as can be seen on the recent (February 2nd/10) Acorn Media release Doc Martin Series 3. If the seven episodes that are included on the two DVDs are an indication of the show's quality, I'd recommend running right out and buying Series 1 & 2 as well, and hope that Series 4 makes an appearance some time soon. It's not often you find television where humour, intelligence, and acting of as high a calibre as are found here are combined in one package.

While there are a couple of ongoing story lines the show follows, each episode also deals with a particular issue - or two - that Doc Martin has to cope with. From medical emergencies; half the village apparently coming down with food poisoning apparently thanks to local plumber Ben Large's new restaurant, or the discovery that the new local constable suffers from narcolepsy and is literally falling asleep at the switch, to dealing with the eccentricities of his neighbours as in his aunt Jane taking a lover half her age in a bid not to feel so old, there's always something happening to keep him on his toes and us laughing. Meanwhile he is also struggling to see if he can resurrect his relationship with the headmistress of the local primary school, Louisa (Caroline Catz), as well as dealing with his pathological fear of blood - the sight of which makes him sick to his stomach.

There's a tendency with medical shows, even the funny ones, to make each episode into a disease of the week. Faced with people falling sick from unusual symptoms, the beleaguered medical personnel are frustrated in their attempts to heal those afflicted and it's only in the last five minutes of the show they come up with the solution that saves everybody's life. Even when Doc Martin is called upon to play medical detective on occasion, it never become the raison d'etre for an episode, and more often than not it ends up being the comedic highlight, not some nail biting drama.

An example of this is aforementioned time when Doc Martin accuses Ben Large of poisoning half the town because of unclean conditions in his restaurant. However the true culprit turns out to be in the doctor's office. Some how or other when he was hooking up his new dishwasher, the good doctor hooked up its intake hose to the outflow from his toilet and proceeded to wash all his dishes in .... . It's amazing how quickly the Norwalk virus can spread through a small town - especially when they've all been having a nice cup of tea while they're waiting to see the doctor.

Martin Clunes does a remarkable job playing Doc Martin as we grow to genuinely like and admire him for who he is. This isn't just a one dimensional character whose always rude, but nor does his gruff exterior hide a soft squishy interior. He's opinionated and has no patience for fools and idiots - you do something stupid and he'll let you know all about it while he's treating you for the consequences of your actions. However he's not without his compassionate side, although sometimes he has to be reminded of it, and will surprise you with his ability to understand and willingness to help where others might not. What you gradually come to realize is there's an almost painfully shy man hiding behind the rudeness, one whose all to aware of his own shortcomings when it comes to interpersonal relationships.

This becomes clear when he and Louisa make what appears to be an ongoing attempt to establish a "relationship". In most cases like this on television the love of a good woman will bring out the best in our tormented hero and he'll undergo some sort of miraculous transformation. Thankfully that's not the case here as Martin invariably finds just the wrong thing to say on all occasions. While they do eventually stumble into each other's arms, almost in spite of themselves, its not what you'd call smooth sailing. The drawback of living in a small village is that everyone knows everybody and has something to say about them, resulting in both the doctor and Louisa doubting they can make the other happy.

For anybody who was raised on a diet of television shows depicting the small town doctor as something akin to a saint, Doc Martin will be greeted with a sigh of relief and a burst of laughter. The good doctor has a way of saying the things all of us would love to have the nerve to say - telling a mother who thinks her daughter might be suffering from Attention Deficit Disorder there's nothing wrong with the kid save for being exceptionally annoying. It's like the editing function that most of us have in our brains that prevent us from speaking what we're really thinking has somehow broken down. Supported by a wonderful cast of loveable eccentrics, watching a couple of episodes of the good doctor's daily routine can't help but improve anybody's mental health.

The two DVDs that make up Doc Martin Series 3 come with only a couple of special features, the filmographies of the leads and some background trivia about the actors. As its a recent production it's suitable for playing on most modern digital systems, however the sound is only stereo which means there are occasional difficulties in discerning dialogue, although that could have just been my difficulties with some of the accents. However any technical failings in the sound are more than compensated for by the quality of the show itself. While it may cause you to have second thoughts about retiring to some peaceful fishing village in the country, Doc Martin is the perfect remedy for boredom as there's never a dull moment when he's on call.

Posted by Richard Marcus at 02:41 AM | Permalink

Most of us have little or no difficulty in understanding our heritage and what it means to us in terms of our belief systems as we usually have the example of either our parents or the community around us to go by. However, what if one of your parents comes from a culture that's not part of the majority and that person has never been part of your life? It may take a while, but sooner or later you're going to start to notice your different from everyone around you, and eventually you might start to become a mite curious as to what you've inherited from your absent parent.

Aatish Taseer was born in Delhi India as a result of an affair between his Sikh mother and his Pakistani Muslim father. While his mother never kept from him the truth about his heritage he grew up surrounded by cousins his own age wearing the turbans emblematic of their faith, making his uncovered head feel very conspicuous and out of place. It's not until he's twenty-one that he finally makes the journey across the border to visit his father for the first time. While he is welcomed by his father's wife and children with open arms, the man himself is far more reticent. Salmaan Taseer is an important political figure in Muslim Pakistan, and the knowledge he has an Indian son who may or may not be Muslim could create difficulties.

However, as Taseer describes it in his new book from McClelland and Stewart, which is partially owned by Random House Canada, Stranger To History, even if his father is reluctant to recognize him in public, at least by the end of his first visit he begins to feel they have developed the basis for a relationship. Like many other Pakistani's Salmaan is a secular Muslim, so the fact that his son is a Muslim in name only shouldn't make any difference to him. (In Islam the father's religion dictates that of the children)

However when Taseer, now a journalist in England, writes an article about second generation Pakistani immigrants becoming fundamentalists and extremists because of estrangement and failure of identity, his father takes him to task in a letter for not understanding what it is to be a Muslim and for spreading anti-Muslim propaganda. Taseer is confused, how can the man who once said "The Koran has nothing in it for me" be offended as a Muslim by what I had written? It's obvious his father is right when he says that Taseer has no understanding of the Muslim or Pakistani ethos as he can't understand his father's apparently contradictory attitude. What does his father mean when he calls himself a "cultural Muslim"?

Attempting to find an answer to this question, Taseer sets off on a personal pilgrimage through the Islamic world. Starting in the fiercely secular Turkey, where many Islamic religious practices are forbidden by law, he makes his way slowly to Pakistan via Syria, Saudi Arabia - where he travels to Mecca, and finally the nominally Islamic state of Iran. Through conversations with various people, and his observations of life in each country, it becomes clear that there is no set answer. In Turkey he meets young men who dream about a world where everyone is ruled by Islam because it is the only faith which can tell you how to live properly. In Syria he see how that dream is being actualized by a regime with its own political agenda and not above cynically manipulating people.

By offering people a version of the world free of all contradictions and questions, a world in which there is only one "truth", they can control them with the help of a compliant clergy. In Abu Nour, a centre for international students in Damascus, people come from all over the world to learn Arabic and take classes in Islamic studies. However sermons in the mosque include distorted views of history designed to depict Muslims as being persecuted throughout the ages and work up antagonism against an enemy simply referred to as the West. The result is the creation of a world that exists in isolation designed to equate being Islamic as a supporter of the Syrian government and any who oppose Syria are enemies of Islam.

When the book shifts to Iran the depiction Taseer offers is no different than any other description you've read of people living under any totalitarian regime. Here he finds that Islam is being used to harass people over trivialities, like the length of their shirt sleeves, in order for an insecure government to exert control over them. In fact in what is supposedly an Islamic republic where you'd expect to be able to find answers as to what is a Muslim, there is even less chance of discovering that here than anywhere else. For, as one person he meets puts it, a professor at a university, "People were very connected to religion even though the government was not religious. But now the government is religious most people want to get away from religion... It is very hard for me to say I am a Muslim."

Taseer is by profession a journalist, and while that comes through in his ability to ask the right questions of people, his writing style is far more personal than you'd expect from a reporter. He makes no pretence about this being an objective study of Islam, rather its a personal voyage undertaken in the hopes of bridging the gap between himself and the father he was estranged from for over twenty years, and that comes across in his writing. His yearning to understand both his father and the religion he professes to practice, and the frustration and confusion they generate in him, predominate throughout the book as he intersperses accounts of his travels with recollections of his attempts to find common ground with his father.

In many ways this is one of the bravest books you'll ever read, as Taseer doesn't hesitate from voicing opinions that are going to be unpopular with people at all ends of the political spectrum. His compassion for the people he meets allows him to see beyond their words to the need that gives them birth, giving the reader a deeper understanding of where their opinions were born. The title of the book. Stranger To History refers obviously to Taseer's ignorance of his father and his Muslim and Pakistani inheritance. However, it can also relate to what he has witnessed in his journeys in Syria and Iran where history is being rewritten to generate hatred against the West in order to solidify the current regimes power bases. While he doesn't offer any solutions or comfort that there is some easy way to change or prevent what is happening, hope can be taken from his time spent, in all of all places, Iran in the people's determination to deny the regime in any small way they can.

Although his attempt to reconcile his own history with his father is somewhat of a failure, Taseer consoles himself with the fact that he has been able to connect with his personal history of being a product of both parts of the Indian sub continent. By having both countries he has had the chance of "embracing the three tier history of India whole, perhaps an intellectual troika of Sanskrit, Urdu, and English. These mismatches were the lot of people with garbled histories, but I preferred them to violent purities. The world is richer for its hybrids." While he may not have come any closer to discovering his father, or his father's religion, he has discovered himself.

Unlike those who think what the world needs is surety and purity, Taseer reminds us that sometimes there are questions which don't have answers and history isn't always divided up into winners and losers. If for no other reason, that makes this an important book to read, as it not only shows you the dangers of a world where black and white dominates, but it makes you realize just how wonderful a little confusion and uncertainty can be. Well you may not come away from reading this book any more enlightened about Islam then you were before you started, you'll have a better understanding of the variety of people who fall under the umbrella of that word. After reading this book you might not be so quick to make generalizations based on a person's religion and have a better understanding of what lays behind many of today's headlines.

Posted by Richard Marcus at 02:25 AM | Permalink