Imperialism and Exile

An essential distinction Said makes in his Reflections on Exile is one between “us” and the “outsiders”; a distinction intrinsically indispensable to the legacy of colonialism in the subcontinent. Drawing from this set distinction, Nazir Ahmed’s Ibn-ul-Vaqt seems to fit perfectly the frame of a displaced individual pitted against an “uncomprehending society”. Caught up in the constant struggle between traditionalism and the newly imported Anglicism, Ibn ul-Vaqt faces a sort of self-exile; one induced by his “inclination” to adopt the English lifestyle at the very time it were deemed “blasphemous”. Nazir Ahmed clearly establishes his protagonists leaning towards the way of the British from the inception of his literary work, but it is truly emphasized in his analogical representation of Ibn ul-Vaqt’s adaptation as an almost religious act; with the Noble Sahib as the facilitating Baptist. These religious connotations indicate both the contempt of the society at large,; by adopting British customs Ibn ul-Vaqt would become an exiled muslim, almost as if he had prescribed to a new faith.

 Nazir Ahmed further shows the hostility of the native towards the colonizer through the feeling of loss felt at what the natives felt was a ‘staining’ of the last cultural identity that remained intact; language. However, by using highly personal settings such as the home of the protagonist, Nazir Ahmed introduces the very “humanistic” aspect of exile which Said believed exilic literature excluded; Ibn ul-Vaqt’s house becomes a symbol of both his lost traditions and customs and his future “transcendental homelessness”, but simultaneously, his ability to give refuge to newer customs, or ones that he believed were progressive (his invitation of Noble Sahib to the confines of his home is symbolic of his invitation for reform which is consummated with his future visits to Noble Sahibs domain). But perhaps Nazir Ahmed more importantly wished to highlight the role of the British in reforming India; he thus emphasizes the camaraderie between Ibn ul-Vaqt and Noble Sahib, thus setting the stage to then indicate that the reform Noble Sahib inculcates in Ibn ul-Vaqt is indeed a positive and progressive one, however, one that hostile society at large could not perceive as being such. To Nazir Ahmed, Imperialism had its catch for the native, and was not merely an exploitative socially darwinistic entity. 

Ibn ul-Vaqt then becomes an almost exilic figure; he is viewed by his own kind with both appreciation and apprehension, but through his literary technique, Nazir establishes that indeed he no longer belongs. He is neither truly part of the British, his insignificance dramatized by the award ceremony, and is neither part of the new surge of nationalistic Muslims conceived by the imperialistic overture of the British. Indeed, as displayed in the dinner scene, he is neither like Noble Sahib or the Khidmatdar, the colonizer and the colonized, yet is somewhere in the middle struggling to grasp or perhaps discover his disoriented identity. His is an inner conflict and struggle, in Said’s words, a solitude he must experience outside of the group, because such is the nature of imperialism. Thus, Nazir Ahmed’s protagonist inherently embodies what Said identifies as the ‘age of the refugee’, ravaged by the forces of imperialism and left on a solitary journey to rediscover his identity, thus symbolic of the era of imperialism and the rebirth of identity and nationalistic sentiment that it induced.

Imperialism and Exile: The problem of language (Noor Habib)

Adorno (qtd. in Said’s “Reflections on Exile”) asserts that the only home for the homeless is to be found in writing. Said himself notes that those in exile are drawn towards writing, poetry, intellectualism etc. These sorts of occupations are attractive because they depend upon mobility and detachment; two states that are associated closely with the exilic state. Art forms that have emerged as a product of the exilic consciousness are considered to be useful counter-narratives, but more significantly, these literary works shed light on the importance of language itself as a powerful tool to resist the pervasive influence of imperialism on indigenous culture.

 It was suggested in class that the figure of the colonial subject can legitimately be viewed as an exilic figure, as per the definition given to us by Edward Said. In particular, the Muslim in colonial India was perhaps truly disenfranchised from the body politic following the 1857 mutiny. In my reading of Ibn Ul Vaqt, the theme of Language as a refuge for the refugee shines through as one of the important issues.  It is also something that the subjects of a colonial state cling on to desperately, as the last remnant of their ‘discontinuous’ identity. “Ye museebat kis ke aagay roye keh angrezi amaldaari ne hamari dolat, sarwat, rasm-o-rawaj, libaas, waza,  tor tareeqa, tijarat, mazhab, ilm, hunar, izat, sharafat sab cheezon par tou paani phera hi tha, aik zubaan thi ab is ka bhi … angrezon ne ukhree ukhree, ghalat…Urdu bolni shuru kardi thi”.

From the onset of the novel, the narrative voice guides us through the cultural milieu of the time that it is set in. There is a deep rooted aversion to anything English, in particular the language. Ibn Ul Vaqt too dismisses English (despite his relative competency in it) by remarking that one can not know a second language as well as one knows his mother tongue. The irony is not lost on the reader, considering the historical roots of Urdu, which owes its standardization to a policy issued under the Raj. Nazir Ahmad himself performs this act of subversion by way of his novel, but it begs the obvious question; what kind of identity is he trying to protect when it is informed so heavily by the forces that threaten it in the first place?

Imperialism and Exile

Said categorizes exile in a number of ways, most important of which he says it is an existence that is deeply rooted alongside questions of nationalism, when one's looking at questions of identity. Speaking specifically to how nationalism and exile are connected with each other he says that 'the interplay between nationalism exile is like Hegel's dialectic of servant and master, opposites informing and constituting each other'; what he means to say is that in order for somebody to feel what it is to be like in exile he must first be able to identify himself with a nation/nationality. Only then can he be free to assert his exilic identity and produce work from such a position.

My contention so far with Ibn-ul-Vaqt, a story primarily occupied with imperial occupation has so far in the book very little to do with questions of exile and nationalism. In order for one to generate any kind of nationalism, there are certain prerequisites that need to be met. A defined territory, qualities or characteristics that are assigned by a superior governing body, common cultural, linguistic, societal traits and the belief that we're part of a larger whole.

Imperialism will, in my opinion give rise to nationalistic sentiment from the very beginning, which may eventually lead to questions of exile. But so far in the book the narrator is primarily concerned with differences in historical races, rather than nationalisms. That's apparent from muslim and hindu traditions that are borne out of these peoples interaction with the British. 

Ibn ul Vaqt, Imperialism and Exile

Nazir Ahmad’s narrative of exile, Ibn-ul-vaqt, illustrates that imperialism breeds nationalism and exile emerges as a diametrically opposed by-product of nationalism. Situated in the subcontinent, it relays the tale of the personal identity crisis of ibn ul vaqt in the face of the imperial power structure represented through the figure of Noble Sahib.

The crux of the account is the unceasing identity crisis of the protagonist, and others like him; to either retain a strong filiative connection with his homeland through culture, language, habit and religion or to adapt to the changing socio-political atmosphere by learning and adopting the ways of the new colonial rulers. In the beginning chapters we sense a strong compelling need to retain a semblance of balance between filiative connections and imperial associations. This is apparent in the example stated by the narrator of a person who would wear English boots when travelling from field to field but ‘whenever he would he came back home for a day or two, he would wear his old, worn-out Indian shoes’ (1).

 Similarly, the central character’s indecision to ally with the imperialist noble sahib or with his people is clearly apparent during the time period of 3 months when he nurses noble sahib to health. His moral dilemma is voiced when he says to Nobel, ‘If life is such a burden to you and you want to commit suicide, then let me have the reward of the virtuous act of disposing of a dead body!’ (15) Despite his decision to nurse the noble back to health there is still a conscious realization of a betrayal to his roots by siding with the Other.

Ultimately his contact with Nobel places him indefinitely outside the Muslim national ‘habitus’. His habits and lifestyle-‘he adopted the English lifestyle when even to learn English was considered blasphemy’-place him outside the coherent amalgam of practices which link him to his native inhabitance. Edward Said, in his Reflections on Exile defines nationalism as ‘an assertion of belonging in and to a place, a people, a heritage. It affirms the home created by community of language, culture, customs; and, by doing so, it fends off exile, fights to prevent its ravages’ Said 176. Ibn-ul-vaqt emerges as a character indefinitely in exile because he is not longer part of the Muslim national habitus nor the imperial superstructure; In fact, he is so deeply assimilated within the colonial structure by virtue of his adoption of the English language and customs and simultaneously completely uprooted and external to the Muslim milieu owing to his disregard for his native customs, culture and language. And as a result he remains a detached, aloof, homeless and alien figure and a victim of the ‘crippling sorrow of estrangement’.

Imperialism and Exile

Nazir Ahmed’s “ibn ul-Vaqt” is embedded in the inextricable tie between exile and imperialism and the irreversibility of the condition of alienation and isolation that it creates. It highlights a state of exile not only produced by the colonizer but lends great importance to that which is rooted in one’s own transgressions, in this case the internal crisis being faced by ibn ul-Vaqt in clinging on to his roots whilst attempting to learn from the ‘foreigner’ and in doing so constituting to a sort of self proclaimed exile without even being fully aware of it. Ibn ul-Vaqt becomes the voice of the displaced Muslim in the subcontinent who must accept the loss of identity while seeking refuge in one rooted in the rigidity of religion.

 Conflicted between antagonism of foreign ways and adhering to the loss of self Ibn ul-Vaqt poses a satire on the conditions of India and the sea of souls that lingered on to mere factions of what it meant to have an identity and what that identity was. The fact remained that whether the Indians were adamant on expelling the British rulers or accepting their ways, the sense of estrangement they felt would only grow stronger and imperialism would change more than the geography of the subcontinent and be responsible for separations that never existed earlier. Just by establishing Ibn ul-Vaqt as a man who “adopted the English lifestyle when even to learn English was considered blasphemy”, Nazir Ahmed prepares the readers for a story of conflict extended beyond the physical realm and the journey of a young man amidst the fickleness of the idea of belonging.

It sheds light on the exilic experience as a result of nationalism created through imperialism, in this case the rise of a Hindu nationalism that led to the realization of homelessness in the physical and metaphysical sense on the part of the Muslims. Nazir Ahmed words mirror the view that the British attempt at enculturation would only lead to a de-culturation of the Indian people, only emphasizing the disparity that existed between them. It was the conditions of the colonized subcontinent that gave birth to “undocumented” or faceless people that Edward Said speaks of. And perhaps the very efforts to accept British values was what drove the Indians into a state of suspension between what was familiar to the them and what they must familiarize themselves with. Hence, Ibn ul-Vaqt is a testament to the fact that borders were created long before partition in 1947, and that the wounds of a war that the individual was fighting within oneself would be difficult to recover from.

Ibn-ul Vaqt's transition into becoming an exilic figure

An exile is typically someone who is physically displaced from his land, but in this novel we see the protagonist caught between the clash of two cultures and accepted by neither. The condition of exile can lead to nationalism, and it is certainly the case that before his encounter with Noble Sahib, we don’t see any particular nationalist sentiment in Ibn-ul Vaqt, his conscious decision to stick to his cultural milieu being influenced both by his strict upbringing and his fear of rejection. Otherwise his studies showed a leaning towards foreign cultures and their histories (plus his education was at Delhi College, a prominent symbol of imperialism), and his deep interest in such studies had "already made Ibn-ul-Vaqt an Anglophile" (pg 13). But when he takes Noble Sahib in his household to during the Mutiny, his discussions with the Englishman enables him to look at his culture through a critical and ultimately foreign eye. This process of defamiliarization leads to a consciousness of his clothes, his food, his people and their customs, their political leanings. But the crossing over to the British imperialist side is also shown as problematic right from the beginning. Noble Sahib, in his more petty moments while recovering, annoys Ibn-ul Vaqt several times, especially at his insistence that leaving the house would be better than indulging in laziness, thinking "if life is such a burden to you and you want to commit suicide, then let me have the reward of the virtuous act of disposing of a dead body" (pg 15). Noble Sahib frequently doesn’t give a thought to how much danger his presence has put his host in, moreover the grand party held after the victory of the British in the 1857 revolt shows the cold utilitarian approach with which the British treat all of his sacrifices, placing him in the 125^th position of receiving honours for his services and land worth only Rs. 3000 p.a. (pg 29). Noble Sahib, though treating him courteously, arranges his meeting with Ibn-ul Vaqt on his own terms and conditions, specifically in his own house. The entire dinner party scene with Noble Sahib further shows how different the Muslim male and the Englishman are, Noble Sahib wishing to employ Ibn-ul Vaqt as his servant proving how beneath himself he considers the Muslim to be. As Nazir Ahmad says, "the true thoughts of a man are best known in times of affluence and adversity" (pg 13).

Exile: A State Beyond Boundaries of Thought and Experience

What I found most striking in Reflections on Exile was Said's extension of the word "exile" beyond its common use. A large portion of this essay deals with the idea of exile as it is commonly construed, as a state of being physically uprooted from one's home. Thus construed, exile is linked to imperialism in the many ways we discussed in class. For example, Noble Sahib's portrayal of Muslims as a martial race who ruled by the sword, as we discussed in class, illustrates the kind of colonial narrative that eroded the Muslim sense of belonging in the subcontinent. But Said's extension of the idea of exile beyond the purely geographical realm, to the domain of thought and experience, opens up an entirely different view of the process of imperialism.

As Said points out, it is in the "drawing of lines" around one that the least attractive aspects of exile are seen. Because of the dialectical relationship between exile and nationalism, the same can be said for the latter. Thus, exile and nationalism are both constructed upon lines of communal identity, which inform the community's shared modes of expression and experience. In the imperial state of India, the lines between European ruler and homeless Muslim subject were reified, on the one hand, by the impurity associated with European ways of life in traditional circles, and the savage and uncouth image of Muslims held by the British. The lines between Muslim and European defined the social order in Imperial India and, it goes without saying, were not meant to be crossed. When a member of one group did move past the boundary of his own community, into the territory of the Other, this would result in confusion and insecurity on both sides. This explains the reactions Ibn-ul-Waqt draws from those around him; the instance where he is questioned by a fellow Muslim for sharing crockery with Noble Sahib, while the latter was under his protection, and the disdain with which Noble Sahib's servants viewed him at dinner. Both instances were reactions to Ibn-ul-Waqt's movement between sharply drawn communal divides, and were so emphatically rigid in nature because this movement exposed the fluidity of what were assumed to be well-defined identities. Said, I believe, hails the state of exile, in its extended, existential sense, for this very reason. The exile, after all, is in a unique position to challenge and bring into question the very modes of thought and experience which undergird the phenomenon of imperialism. 

Imperialism and Exile: Ibn-ul-Vaqt

Nazir Ahmad’s “Ibn-ul-Vaqt” casts a light on the state of perpetual movement that foments when a displaced former era and submerging culture collides with the advent of a new, enforced regime and manner of living. This Ahmad accomplishes using countless elements at his disposal—his story is based in colonial India post-‘Indian mutiny’; the seen and unseen individuals are generally unsettled, and further disparity spirals through divisions based on race, religion, sect and socio-economic class. For this purpose he also delves uninhibited into his protagonists mindset, wherein said protagonist Ibn-ul-Vaqt is revealed to be caught between the old, dying world of Muslim Mughal royalty in India and the new, secure Victorian Christian lifestyle promising that he will no longer be “among the disgraced” as he joins “those who are honoured.” Added to this, Ahmad’s use of distinctive narrative voice—now supporting Anglicization, now sardonically poking fun at and stepping away from the increasingly Anglicized protagonist—is difficult to place in support of either party and only serves to enhance the sense of instability prevalent throughout the story.

It is within this instability and state of transformation that both parties of British colonizers and colonized Indians find themselves chained to circumstances beyond their control—the Imperialists are faced with covert and overt hostility displayed by the natives, and the natives discover themselves shifting in socio-economic class as they move from aristocracy to the newly formed bourgeoisie, or in the common vernacular, the “middle class.” Ibn-ul-Vaqt’s too finds himself trapped in a retrograde position in the local community with his acceptance of English custom; his growing isolation from his own cultural identity and way of life only grow as the story progresses and also add to the instability that is a natural repercussion of change.

What we must acknowledge here is the fact that in all these elements there is no unique factor brought to the table by a state of exile that is not brought about by normal change in time and place. With the passage of time there is a displacement of the old to make room for the new; this breeds unsettlement in culture and identity as people cling to remnants of their past lives and what used to be, as is reflected in Margaret Mitchell’s “Gone with the Wind,” wherein a similar displacement is felt by the southerners who aren’t as such directly under the control of the North. Both normal transition in time and the exilic state consist of the need for two factors that contradict each other; these are freedom and security. “Ibn-ul-Vaqt” is the embodiment of the pull from freedom and security, born of the exilic state for both victim and victimizer. There is a rational acknowledgement of the need to embrace the new for survival and one’s own freedom, as Noble Sahib highlights to Ibn-ul-Vaqt the greater possibilities that exist once one embraces the English lifestyle. There is also a stubborn refusal to leave the apron strings that once provided the security of a lifestyle upon which one could rise, fall and rest. Security is bred for the people in two forms—by clinging to the old set forms, and by swiftly entrenching oneself in the new set forms. On the other end, freedom is granted, according to the peoples diverse mindsets, in two differing forms as well—through the latter method of accepting the new set Victorian manner of living, and through resistance of the new and a struggle to retain the old that would grant the natives their former glory and socio-economic class. Each mindset is skillfully presented by Ahmad and presents divisions within divided factors, further highlighting the lack of stability prevalent during this time. Within this plethora of mindsets there is born a displacement from identity for the Indians and this manner of halfway in, halfway out acceptance on their part of the British causes further unsettlement for the British. This stands no different from the estrangement from identity and community one may feel as a result of ordinary change.

Exile breeds strength in resistance; it breeds the submerging of one time and place to another. Overall what we can see is that in breeding instability in position, identity and culture, Nazir Ahmad creates for us a picture of total isolation and reveals little distinction between the reactions produced by a state of exile and those produced by a state of normal transition. Mourning for a time lost is a common nostalgic state shared by the ordinary person, and with increasing globalization it is increasingly becoming the case as inordinate cultures and lifestyles find themselves merging and colliding on a daily basis across the globe. So how does one distinguish between the exilic state and that of normal transition? The only difference one can note is the use of the word ‘imperialism’—which instantly reminds one of the coercion of the natives to embrace a lifestyle. We are reminded that whilst normal change is subtle, subconsciously affecting the ordinary person and facing little struggle beyond the nostalgic sigh, the state of exile is enforced and, as Nazir Ahmad depicts, those estranged from their own culture are very much aware of it—if not initially (as with the Indians when the East India Company emerged), then definitely later (leading to the Indian Mutiny, also called the War of Independence); Ahmad’s characters, like all exiled natives, consciously struggle to retain balance while two colliding worlds shift and merge beneath their feet, no bow-tie ending in sight. 

Exile, Imperialism and the "contrapuntal awareness"

Edward Said in his essay, “Reflections on Exile” recounts an interesting anecdote about Faiz Ahmad Faiz and his friend Eqbal Ahmad. Said talks about how Faiz had several Palestinian friends but was only able to overcome his “constant estrangement” when he met Ahmad, a Pakistani friend and fellow-exile. Perhaps because he felt that Ahmad understood him. They shared the same culture, language and were both experiencing exile. I can’t help but think whether the encounter would have yielded the same results if we were to strip away some trivialities from the story. What if Faiz and Ahmad were not friends? Would two strangers have shared such an unadulterated and unembellished experience? What if Ahmad had no interest in poetry? Would he still have sat in a dreary restaurant late at night to listen to Faiz’s verse? I can’t say for sure. But I’d like to think so; if not for friendship or poetry but for familiarity and mutual disdain for the Zia regime.  The point of mentioning this account is to contrast it with the interaction between the servants in Noble Sahib’s house and Ibn-ul-Vaqt, in Nazir’s Ahmad’s “Ibn-ul-Vaqt”, to examine how imperialism affects exile and relations amongst the exiled. Faiz’s exile was predominantly a physical one, whilst Ibn-ul-Vaqt was in a cultural, social and linguistic exile in his own land. Except of course it was no longer his “own” land. He and India were colonized by the British.

It was unsettling to read that the servants found their “fellow-exile” foolhardy and that they would have “laughed their heads off” at his “silly” blunders. It was difficult to accept that they felt disdain instead of compassion. They glorified the Noble Sahib, the colonizer, and deplored Ibn-ul-Vaqt, the fellow-colonized and did not deem him worthy of respect. It seemed to me that the interaction should have had the warmth I found in the anecdote about Faiz and Ahmad. This led me to realize the corrosive effect of the colonizer on the relations amongst the colonized. Ibn-ul-Vaqt, himself, found the British inexplicably glorious so much so that he likened every Englishman to a “powerful lion”. Moreover, he referred to the events of 1857 as a mutiny and the locals involved as “mutineers” and “hooligans”. Therefore, it is apparent that imperialism causes people to be exiled from their own people. It is an exile so deep that it not only rips the umbilical cord to the land but also throws the individual into a Hegelian, master-servant relationship in which the colonized exists in isolation. Faiz’s exile is clearly different from Ibn-ul-Vaqt’s exile. Ergo, can the word exile effectively capture the sensibilities of all those who are exiled? Are people who experience exile under imperialism “more exiled” than people who are in self-exile or have been forcefully displaced?

Said, at the end of his essay, talks about the positive things that come out of exile. He says, “Most people are principally aware of one culture, one setting, one home; exiles are aware of at least two, and this plurality of vision gives rise to an awareness of simultaneous dimensions, an awareness that - to borrow a phrase from music is - contrapuntal. (186)” In the case of an exile under imperialist rule, this contrapuntal awareness is most unfortunate. Under the spell of the colonizer, the exiled individual feels that his own culture is rudimentary and inferior. Moreover, the confusion caused by familiarity with nuances of various cultures is devastating. Perhaps Nazir Ahmad was trying to depict this very idea in “Ibn-ul-Vaqt”, albeit with humour. Ibn-ul-Vaqt’s linguistic prowess in Arabic and Persian failed him when he scared off his wife with the Persian idiom ‘murder the lamp’ instead of the Arabic one; ‘blow out the lamp’ (5, Translated).

Moin Ahmed: Imperialism and Exile

Nazir Ahmeds book “Ibn ul-Waqt” (the Son of the Moment) is a commentary on the colonial impact especially as it pertains to the acceptance of “foreign” ideals and the emergence of a “reformer” in the character of Ibn ul-Waqt who seeks to internalize the values of the British Empire and integrate them within his own lifestyle and worldview. The text does a remarkable job of portraying the inherent animosity towards the British rulers while documenting a grudging acceptance of the overlords: “A high ranking British official visited the college and look what respect he got! He shook hands with all the teachers. Willy-nilly the Head Maulvi too had half a handshake with him but then he held his hand aloof as if it had become an impure limb”.  After saving the life of “Noble Sahib”, Ibn ul-Waqt is accepted and rewarded by the British, but the relationship that emerges between Noble Sahib and Ibn ul Waqt is necessarily that of a colonizer and the colonized. In a rather discomforting chapter, “At the Dining Table” we witness Ibn ul-Waqt’s unease and lack of “manners” at the dining table, yet at the same time it marks a sort of “baptism” that Ibn ul-Waqt undergoes. Nazir has subtly hinted towards the ignorance of the British in that they make fun of the Indian’s English accents while they themselves cannot speak but a few sentences in Urdu, and that too in a manner that cannot elicit but tears in the eyes of the listener. Prompting Ibn ul-Waqt to take upon the role of reformer, Noble Sahib, after referring to the Muslims as a “martial race” says:

I think it is due to the fact that Muslims have been rulers for a long time. But if the Muslims have to face such conditions for a hundred years more, their coming generations will be so impaired that it may not be possible to reform them. This community already needed a reformer and now its very survival depends on the emergence of one. Why shouldn’t you be the reformer?

Ibn ul-Waqt’s ascension into the folds of the imperium exhibits two extraordinary things. Firstly that there must be a displacement from common values and norms- an exile from the nationalistic identity one adheres to and the quest for internalization of new value systems. This becomes necessary for reformation of others. This brings me to the second point, that this exile (in Ibn ul-Waqt’s case) leads to the formation of a vacuum of ideas, which is then filled by the British Empire to expedite its own ideological control over the community. The reformer Noble Sahib wants to create will indirectly smooth the control of the British Empire over the Muslims of India, and therefore I would argue that the reformer is a hegemonic tool.  In conclusion, I feel that where the relationship between Exile and Imperialism is complex, yet in cases similar to this, it necessarily results in the “imperial reformer”.

Imperialism and Exile: A Marriage of Convenience

Ibn ul Vaqt' by Nazir Ahmed depicts a state of helplessness experienced by the Muslim community in India post-mutiny. For the fact that 1857 turned out to be catastrophic for the locals and equally triumphant for the colonizers, the already existing power disparity between the rulers and the ruled escalated like never before. The “one-sided” rift between the locals and colonial masters soon settled with the former resorting to a marriage of convenience with the ideals and values that the latter had decided for them. Deputy Nazir has been successful in exposing just this.

The protagonist and the society around him both demonstrate such a compromise. In the earlier chapters, Deputy Nazir presents a setting whereby the local muslims are rife with angst and grief over the imposition of an alien rule over them. He writes,

              “Angrezi zubaan, Angrezi Wiza ka orhna bichona banaya tha is gurz say kay angraizon say lagawat ho magar dekhtay tau lagawat ki awez rukawat hai aur ahtelat ki jagah nafrat. Hakim aur mehkoom mai kasheedgi hai kay barhti chali jati hai. Darya mai rehna aur magar much say ber. Dekhiyay akhir yeh oont kis karwat bethta hai.”

The sarcasm directed towards the incapacitated Muslims in this passage particularly in the last two lines portrays the lost cause of Muslim resistance against the colonial force. Deputy Nazir epitomizes this very sentiment in his plot when the British forces invade Delhi over-night. The irony however is that this attack did not yield any opposition from the locals, no condemnation of the colonial brutality as all of it was already well-anticipated and absolutely inevitable. Even more surprising was the reaction of Delhi’s “ex-owners”, Nazir Ahmed writes,

              “Ab har shakhs apni jagah aik raye lagata tha. Jitnay munh utni batain. Koi kahta tha kay bas jo kuch hona tha ho chukka. Raat ko rehay sahay baagi bhi apna munh kaala kara jaingay. Shukar hai mudaton baad neend bhar kar sona naseeb hoga… Teesra bol parta kay jee nahee aisa nahee hosakta. Shehar ko musmaar kar dain gay tau hakumat kahay par karein gay?  Dalon par? Pathron par?“

This sounds extremely tragic to me whereby the colonial masters have trumped the locals very comprehensively leaving them devoid of any rebellious streak that could ignite the possibility of freedom. Contrary to that, they are cocooning themselves within the prospect of a good night sleep even if the following day heralds the absolute supremacy of an external force. This reinforces my earlier observation of a “marriage of convenience”.

The protagonist’s story is no different. Ibn Ul Vaqt’s willing subordination to the ruler’s demands has been evident multiple times in the plot. Perhaps the most disturbing one was Ibn Ul Vaqt embracing a cigarette bestowed by Noble Saheb who himself is smoking a much classier pipe. The noble builds up the cigarette offer by first establishing that the tobacco Ibn ul Vaqt is about to smoke is easily much better than the one available locally as it is lighter and carefully refined in Rome. Earlier when Ibn ul Vaqt met Lieutenant Brew who’d come to rescue Noble Saheb, he denied a cigarette but couldn’t escape Nazir Ahmed’s blunt and pre-emptive observation. He writes,

                                “Ibn ul Vaqt ne yeh kaha tau sahee magar usko maloom na tha kay angraizon ki suhbat mai najaanay kya kya khana peena iski kismet mai likha hai”

Nazir Ahmed resolves this conundrum later when Ibn Ul Vaqt finally smokes one. He writes,
                          “Ibn ul Vaqt gur kha chukka tha tau gulgulon say kahay ka perhaiz. Diya silai sulga kar engine ki tarah bhak bhak munh say dhuwan nikalnay laga”

Overall, Nazir Ahmed has highlighted the sorry state of affairs Muslims in the subcontinent were going through. Exile is not just a physical lack of space; it is a mental experience characterized by the demise of organic values and substitution of the same by an alien code of life adopted as a tragedy of fate – all this constitutes towards a marriage of convenience as shown in Ibn ul Vaqt.

Imperialism and Exile: Propagation of Ethnocentrism or Creation of Nationalism

Human psychology works in a funny way. It lives for association and it craves for immortality. It dies for identity and it kills for supremacy. The dichotomy at hand has been highlighted in the essay, Reflections on Exile, by Edward Said in order to bring forth the most important question of whether exile is simply a by-product of a need to spread the “one-true” ideology by the westerner culture (so called ethnocentric approach to life) or probably the mother of a diversified world as we see it today?

Being an exile is to have been driven away from the identity you were born in and to be striped of any physical association with a nation. It is to have been secluded to a place of land that is as new and alien to you as to a baby newly born into this world. The exile figures have long served as the memoirs of a revolution or a great romantic tale of reconciliation in the efforts of overcoming the sorrow of estrangement, as in the words of Said. On the other hand, Imperialism as known to the world is the creation of the state of being “exiled”. It strips you of the national identity that you strive for, you live on and it instills in you the feeling of being stranded and homeless. The state of Muslims in the British Indian sub-continent is the classic example of both the imperialist and exile figures. Through the tenure of Mughal Empire, Muslims were considered as the foreigners who with the sheer power of sword and army created a gold throne on the land that rightfully belonged to the Hindus, the rightful inheritors of the true Indian Sanskrit culture in the words of William Jones and adopting the role of an Imperialist. But after the British took over the sub-continent, Muslim emperors and the local citizens were thrown to the shadows and deserted streets to taste the feeling of being exiled. As depicted in a heart-warming tale of Ibn-ul-Vaqt by Deputy Nazir Ahmed, we see the cultural isolation of Muslims at the hands of Hindus. Without physically exiling them from the homeland, Hindus carefully separated the Muslim literature, as one of the examples from that of the sub-continent. Furthermore, it highlights the power dynamics of the sub-continent whereby a civilian, the protagonist in this case, is attracted towards becoming a part of a “superior” culture, becoming a “master servant” of the British who have the right to make fun of you whenever they please and take away the integrity of your language as they may.        

As Simon Weil said, “To be rooted is perhaps the most important and least recognized need of the human soul”, the condition of Muslims of India in the late 1800s was a sheer depiction of how being in an exile precedes the creation of nationalism in its very true essence and hence leads to the brute force required to shatter the shackles of imperialism. Whether through the use of pen or sword, it gives one a chance to build the set of ideologies anew and to spread the feeling of belonging to a culture from scratch. It creates a feeling of self-realization that can only be followed by a mass nationalist movement directed towards a reformation of its kind. The living example of this self-realization is the land of Pakistan, which was born out of sheer desperation or need to associate one’s self with a name, a tangible ideology and status that you been stripped off of in order to protect the culture.

In its simplest forms, it takes us back to the words of Erich Auerbach who blatantly refuses to accept the negativities or the sorrow depicted in the writings of exile figures and instead forces us to think of the state where this exile is actually an instigator of widening our intellectual horizons and becoming critical of the world we live in so that we see it’s positivity and negativity together. He believes that beyond the state of exile is a greater form of knowledge that ultimately should be the focus of a human race. Exiles, in this sense, are the selected few who have granted the chance to see the world at its hinges, from the inside and the outside and to observe its merits and demerits. Hugo of St. Victor also summarized the same feeling that the perfect man is the one who takes everything to be a foreign land and then learns to survive and develop the ideologies that would stay with him forever.

In this state of affairs, exile can be seen to be a rather positive instigator of producing new ideologies, reflections on our world and the sheer force to build nationalism from the ground. It can be seen to be evolving with the power dynamics of today’s world in order to help us get rid of whatever effects remain of the brutality of Imperialism and help us re-kindle the spirits that help us reconnect to not just the people who look like us or live like us, but who belief in a critical approach to life and do what sets good as the precedence for each other. It serves to be the competitor of ethnocentrism in its very basic form and the promoter of self-realization.   

Exile and identity

Before delving into the dynamics of exile, it is interesting to note how explicitly Said differentiates the tangential approach he takes as opposed to the celebrated exile literary works specifically those of the Lost Generation of 1920s. Exile, according to Said, is not quantified by melancholic musings over existentialist questions. Rather, he calls it a predicament 'produced by human beings for other human beings'. Exile is not a condition engineered by a man combating against abstract notions of a materialistic society he cannot bear; nor is it a phenomena subject to an individual's whim of actively distancing himself from the society. On the contrary, exile is grounded in the notion of denied agency and power dynamics at play. Hence, Said defines exile as a deliberate attempt by one party to claim supremacy over the other.

This turf war, however, goes beyond merely overpowering a certain entity. In fact, the ostracization involved actively demonizes the threatening Other to an extent were the concept of what it means to be you equals all that the Other is not or can never be. Subsequently, concepts like nationalism organically emerge when a set group asserts its legitimacy over a geographical domain and the epithets assumed to connote national cohesion automatically adopt an exclusionary air. To be ‘unified’ automatically assumes the subtext of being unified against, notions of common religious, ethical or racial identity unashamedly marginalize minorities, reinforcing national pride accentuates irreconcilable differences etc. Hence, Said mentions how ‘slightest deviation from accepted group line is an act of rankest treachery and group disloyalty’. Therefore, ironically congruent, exile and nationalism are mere conditions where one entity effectuates its agency by excluding the other. What Said calls a ‘contrapuntal’ relationship is therefore subject to perception: one man’s freedom fighter; another’s terrorist.

Apart from the violence shaping nation states and corresponding exile groups, the dilemma is worsened when the exile’s desire for homeland becomes parallel to rigid exclusionary patriotism of nationalism. Consequently, the violence which made the Jews homeless reasserts itself when they claim territorial right as in the case of Palestine.

Another aspect of dilemma wrecked by the dislocated notions of identity is that observed by Nazir Ahmed’s titular character, Ibn-ul-Vaqt. The estrangement or isolation characteristic of the exilic are multiplied two fold whereby the clash is not only between the imperial rulers and Muslim subjects but also among the latter. While political rules entail obeying those in authority, hostility is evident by the Head Maulvi shaking hands with ‘Laat Sahib’ and later washing the ‘impure limb’. This hostility is not only directed towards the imperial rulers but all that they represent with plain mud pulling ranks over the benign ‘angrezi sabun’. The hatred in fact later evolves into subverting the very idea of being Muslim dictated by not being British. Similarly, conflict is seen over smoking cigarettes on the train or in the hysteria following Ibn-ul-Vaqt notoriously long lunch with the Noble Sahab regardless of Quran’s reference to the People of the Book.

Conclusively, the realms observed within the two readings barely allow the individual to form any rational agency, regardless of him belonging to a nation or an exile group. His thoughts, actions, beliefs etc. are governed by either what differentiates him from the Other or by what the group mentality deems appropriate. 

Exile and Imperialism: The Crisis Within Homelands

Exile, according to Said, "is the unhealable rift forced between a human being and a native place, between the self and its true home." The rift, in this case, is primarily a physical one that has a secondary psychological manifestation in the form of certain emotions, characteristics, and states of mind embodied in various persons in exile throughout history. The curious effect of imperialism on an indigenous people is the ability to bring forth the characteristics of exile in a people who never underwent the primary physical uprooting from their homeland. There is a psychological rift that occurs when the land belonging to a people is no longer theirs, not because they left, but rather because someone else has come in. 

It is an odd phenomenon that is hard to put into words. How can a people who belonged, only a while back, to this exact same land now feel out of place here? In my opinion, it has much, if not everything, to do with power and its sudden concentration in the hands of a very visible 'other'. Because while the culture(s), religion(s), language(s), etc. of the indigenous population may still be that of the vast majority of the people inhabiting the land, they are all suddenly wrong in light of the new power dynamic. The ways of the imperialists, instead of being out of place as they are new and belong to a foreign minority, are given legitimacy and considered right solely because they belong to those who now hold power, relegating all indigenous tradition to inferiority in a way that has a great and averse impact on those who revered, without question, these ways of life. 

There is a great pain, I think, in witnessing traditions dear to you or dear to a people that you love being declared obsolete, 'backward', and worthy of the trash-bin of history by an alien power that does not comprehend, on any level, the worth of native practices.

Said explains that "an exile is always out of place," and how "no matter how well they may do, exiles are always eccentrics who feel their difference." These lines, though they did not mean to, encapsulate very well the experience of the colonized and specifically, the experience of the colonized upper class. Because it is the upper class that feels the loss of power most acutely, it is the upper class that tries its utmost to integrate into the new power dynamic, and it is the upper class that must learn that no matter how much they adopt the lifestyle and ways of the colonizers they will never be them--only to reach a point where they are out of place among both their own native people and the new society that they tried to join. This series of events is precisely what is captured in Nazir Ahmed's Ibn-ul-Vaqt and moments from this book show, better than any explanation, the unique dilemma of being surrounded by homeland and yet still being out of place.

There is one instance in particular that I would like to bring attention to, and it is the event of the British mocking the English of the Indians. In this case the natives are made to feel inferior and estranged all while within their homeland because power rests in the hands of outsiders. This estrangement is further intensified because what is native is deemed so wrong and what is of the colonizers is deemed so right, that the colonizers have no shame in not learning Urdu/Hindi as English has been given precedence in the homeland of Urdu/Hindi itself. How does one make sense of such an arrangement of alienation?  How does one escape an alienation that has made its bed within the natural place of belonging itself? It cannot be called exile simply because it is not but perhaps the mind relegates itself to a state of psychological exile when the homeland becomes too unfamiliar to remain present in.

Imperialism and exile

Who to talk to when no one can listen what to you is painfully loud and muffles all others? How to explain what no one can even pretend to understand? The inexplicability that is only to be experienced, and the experience that refuses to be replicated, the pain that you were chosen for as if by a divine decree.

Edward Said perhaps can talk about exile as it is something he is in a unique position to understand, a vantage point only few can boast. Said, himself a Christian, saw Palestine’s identity thrashed by foreigners, and became an alien in his own land. He can perhaps feel the pulse, where others can only surmise. The fact that Ibn-ul-Waqt too belonged to a time where his own nativity was challenged at the hands of the Whites does not mean that he would have been able to find a companion in another exile like Said. It only means that Said can look to him and be not befuddled at Ibn-ul-Waqt’s dilemma. But sharing no history, sharing no culture, or soil, the two could hardly have found haven in the other’s company. The difficulty that each experienced were unique to their own identity and situation. Bereft of one’s own identity, each sought it in their own manner, putting roots wherever they felt the soil was welcoming, perhaps more eager than would be appropriate, the situation in their lives having pushed them over an edge that only few people have seen. One indulging himself in his writing the other in his ‘mission’.

Imperialism and Exile: Angraizi Boot ya Purane Leetray? (Rida Baqai)

In political science, a relevant theory in terms of maintaining control is that of agenda setting through thought control. The colonizers in the subcontinent implemented (knowingly or unknowingly) this concept extremely effectively ,so much so that colonization’s affects are visible to date and the affects of imperialism have penetrated deeply into eastern culture and traditions. The colonizers managed to feed it into the minds of the people they ruled that there language, culture, dress, was way superior than the language, culture and dress of the East, so much so that regardless of how much use of the colonizer’s language, dress and mannerisms hurt their own national identity, they went on pursuing them for they were made to believe that success was inevitable without it. 
The first two paragraphs of Ibn-ul-Vaqt, perhaps the most effective paragraphs of the entire piece; encapsulate this very dilemma which the Muslim man is engulfed in; he deems his culture superior in the private sphere but was made to believe that in the public sphere he had to implement the ways of colonizers .This is evident in the very first line in Deputy Nazir Ahmad’s piece when he says that the reason for Ibn-ul-Vaqt’s tasheer (popularity) is that he mastered the language of the colonizers at a time when interacting in that language was considered kufr (blasphemy). This statement although simply written shows the intensity of the importance of their language in the eyes of the protagonist that even though conversing in the language of foreigners was considered as blasphemous, he still deemed it as an absolutely imperative skill. This point is made visible in his piece by the those characters also who in trying to embody western mannerisms and style, smoke while travelling in trains, however because they themselves knew that it was just their attempt of fitting into the society of the colonizers, of showing them that they were as angraiz as the colonizers, thus they always blew it out at the mere sight of any acquaintance. Also, because they knew in trying to imitate the angraiz they were being disloyal to their distinct national identity. 
Thus this book changes the very meaning of exile for me; it distances itself from its physical nature and takes form of a state of mind for the colonized are captives in their own land. They can’t live life celebrating their own identity rather are conditioned to become a race designed by the British. It shows that regardless of how useful the Hindustani leetray (shoes) are, the people of the subcontinent were made to believe that Angraizi boots(English boots) were superior!

The Memoir: Literary Form and Empire

Nazir Ahmad’s ‘Ibn Ul-Vaqt’ provides us with much material through which we can launch discussions on imperialism. However, my concern for this blog-post relates to a very specific part of the text: Noble Sahib’s memoir and the possibility of locating it within textual imperialist discourse.

                After Noble Sahib receives his first letter from the English Camp instructing him to wait for an indefinite amount of time, Ibn Ul-Vaqt suggests with confidence that he has come up with a ‘’good pastime’’  (acha mashghala)  for the British official. His suggestion – as it turns out – is that Noble Sahib should write his version of the Mutiny. The author’s choice of words in this regard are of particular significance. Ibn Ul-Vaqt does not ask Noble Sahib to write a linear account of events (which would imply an attempt to state an unbiased proceeding of events) but rather the word used is the ever-subjective ‘’yaaddasht’’ which the English version translates as ‘’memoirs’’ but can also be literally translated as ‘’memories’’ . Ibn Ul-Vaqt is not pushing for an attempt at objective history – he is pushing for a historical account that is tainted by the consciousness of the person who writes it.

The first point of significance, then, is that it is the colonial subject Ibn Ul-Vaqt himself who is pushing for Noble Sahib to publish his account of 1857. Secondly, Ibn Ul-Vaqt not only encourages this writing of History but also seeks to contribute towards it. He offers his own personal account of events to Noble Sahib – ‘’detailed day-to-day account’’ - for purposes of factual accuracy lest his memory of events fails him. In his introductory description of the protagonist, the narrator mentions that Ibn Ul-Vaqt took a keen interest in History – ‘‘The history of any country in any period was his favourite subject.’’ Moreover, the narrator attributed Ibn Ul-Vaqt’s admiration of the British to their possession of Empire – something that requires somewhat of an understanding of History. The past, as well as the knowledge of the past, was held in high esteem by Ibn Ul-Vaqt. Here, we see Ibn Ul-Vaqt actively giving something very dear to him – his own recollections of the past – to Noble Sahib so that his own narrative of the past assists (and in the process is subsumed) into the narrative of the colonial official Noble Sahib.   

                  Secondly, what relationship does the memoir have to a wider body of imperial literature? Colonial officials, such as Lord Macaulay whom we briefly discussed in class, often wrote of their experiences in the colonies. These accounts, it goes without saying, were influenced by the ideology of Empire and white-supremacy that characterized imperialism. When asked about the potential of this memoir causing harm to anyone, Noble Sahib replies that the Mutiny has taken a personal toll on him but he nevertheless sees it as ‘’a silly uprising’’ and Indians as largely ‘’helpless’’ and ‘’mistaken’’. This casual dismissal of the sentiments of the Indians is characteristic of this sort of literature however we must be weary of a stark characterization. Noble Sahib himself does not think his position on the Mutiny to be congruous with that of the Englishmen and the British government – he feels that his ‘’entirely personal’’ opinion may not be considered ‘’worthy enough’’ by them.  What about Ibn Ul-Vaqt’s contribution to the memoirs? How do his contributions complicate our understanding of the memoirs as an example of a sole colonial voice belonging to a stark category of imperial literature? In this light, can the memoirs be seen as a joint project between the colonial administrator and the native?  

Ibn'ul Waqt: A note on language.

Any discussion on Ibn'ul Waqt would lend itself quite naturally to comments on imperialism. 

I found the following passage from the first chapter profoundly moving 'The English had destroyed our munificence and wealth, business and trade, art and craft, and spoiled our customs and traditions, dress and manners, our ways of life, religion and science, our honour and nobility. Only one thing was spared: our language.' It goes on to state that their language is too being spoiled because the English fail to speak it properly and the Indians have started to emulate their way of speaking. The passage struck me because it speaks of how deeply imperialism cut into the lives of these people, not just on an abstract level (in terms of things like honour, for example) but on deeply personal levels too, the most personal being language. Language is perhaps the most personal simply because it is tied to communication. Not just communication in the public sphere but also the way you speak to your friends, family and even to yourself.

Nazir Ahmad's works are seen by many as a plea to reform. True, the intentions of this particular text are ambivalent, the writer himself may not even be sure of what he is trying to say. However, perhaps the fact that he was telling the story was enough. In his use of language he is fiercely stubborn. The language is Urdu, before it was spoiled by the British, and this alone proves how many different things a novel (or indeed any vehicle of expression) may represent.

It is then perhaps true that the last refuge for the Muslim was language (the writer of Ibn'ul Waqt included.) However, to just state this undermines how important (and how powerful) language is. Equipped with a common language, a people will not feel their ‘foreignness’ but, once it is taken away from them and they have to learn a new one (or relearn an old, familiar one in an ‘incorrect’ manner) it could end them.

Power (Imperial) and who an Exile is.

The British sent the last Mughal Emperor Bahadur Shah Zafar to Burma to spend the last years of his life in exile alongside his family. Displaced from the place he inhabited and ruled, Zafar reflected upon his exilic state in the following words:

“Kitna hai badnaseeb Zafar dafn ke liye/Do gaz zameen bhi na mili koo-e-yaar mien” (How unlucky is Zafar, to not even find two yards to be buried in the land of his beloved)”

Not that Shah Zafar was so mighty and strong that British acquired any new tangible power by banishing him. But perhaps by forcing him out of Delhi and relegating him to a four-room apartment in Rangoon, they dealt the final blow to the uncoordinated and meager resistive efforts of the few people for whom Zafar was the emblem of the last great non-English rule in India.

With exile to Zafar’s life and death to India’s uprising, the British finished the process they started in the country of affirming their imperial rule. By expelling the figurehead, the foreigners opened the exit gates for more Indians who had no place in the emerging order – the one which appeared to be like a weakly arranged marriage between an overly-anxious domestic woman and a cold, indifferent foreign babu.

The Exile is one without power – the power to reinforce and emphasize his being, the way it was before an external hand attempted to tamper with it, and the way he wants it to be, within the place he inhabits. There are some who are unwilling to surrender their “self” midst these foreign pressures; the figure of “Abba Jan” from Intizar Hussain’s Basti comes to mind. And then there are those who try to assimilate: Ibn-ul-waqt is one of such people.

Anyone who rediscovers himself in the wake of a new cultural force is not in a state of exile. He is “lost”, sure, in terms of having no definite identity. But isn't it wrong to say that he’s been detached from his home, just because he now, for instance, favors suits over shalwar kameez? What he’s also doing by extension of undergoing a change himself, is transforming what his home looks like. All the associations he has, the products he consumes, the places he frequents, they will all be tried and tested to see if they are in-sync with his new self; the one that has been modified to adjust to the dominant discourse. He is fitting in. 

Although Edward Said says that “Most people are principally aware of one culture, one setting, one home; exiles are aware of at least two...”, however, being aware of two cultures, settings and homes, (by having witnessed one back home and one in the exilic state) and being a product of two cultures, settings, and homes, (by having assimilated) are entirely different things.

The Exile, I believe, is one who does not give up on himself and hence is removed for his staunchness. Then for anyone who chooses to remain within the fold of the dominant discourse is not in exile but in a state of rediscovery which is self-imposed. The rest, which includes the home and everything that comes with it, is, as Edward Said remarks: “a mere commodity”, which is much easier to fashion. 

Imperialism and Exile

Prior to taking this course, my perception of exile was limited to the romantic notion of an individual being banished from his/her homeland and being condemned to face the oppression of a foreign culture and the solitude, isolation and alienation that comes attached with these vain efforts to assimilate. Nazir Ahmed's heart wrenching tale of Ibn ul vaqt, enabled me to see that Imperialism had the power to strip the natives of their feelings of security, belonging and identity without physically stripping them of their homeland. “Exile is a discontinuous state of being,” (176) and British Imperialism changed everything from power dynamics to ideals in the sub continent. The Indian reaction to these intrusive changes entailed a new emphasis on identity, and a rigid demarcation between different groups – unknown to the previously cosmopolitan India. Some groups held more grudgingly to religion, language, and culture, “clutching difference like a weapon to be used with stiffened will.” (182) In essence, they clung to tradition, to their roots which they felt were being threatened and in which they sought refuge. Others focused their efforts on assimilation and appeasement, to gain the favors of the new rulers. However, both the well wishers of the government as well as the ones resolved to expel the foreign invaders, felt an insurmountable feeling of estrangement. Their land was no longer theirs, they had no power no control and no sense of belonging.

The government well wishers felt isolated, like Ibn ul vaqt, “against the raging fire of the multitude” (57) while simultaneously their efforts also remained unappreciated by the British who lacked the ability to break away from their ethnocentrism and see them as anything but barbaric inferiors. The Indians who sought cooperation for mere sustenance also felt like outsiders, helpless to the harshness, inconsideration and disrespect of the superior British. This can be demonstrated by the Humiliating treatment of the tax collector whose hard work and devotion to gain his post and status is wasted solely because of his Indian identity. The feelings of the tax collector helps readers gain a sense of the deep resentment and helplessness of the Indians. “I meet them but only under a compulsion to protect myself” and “ I am disgusted by them.” In conclusion, amidst the conditions created by Imperialism, there was no escape or relief from exilic feelings.  

 “Exile is the unhealable rift forced between a human being and a native place, between the self and its true home.” British imperialism changed our homeland forever and generations later I still feel the trickle down effect of the feelings of estrangement felt by my ancestors who had to live in British India, not completely belonging and fitting the “Pakistani” identity, yet not belonging anywhere else. I feel like me along with much of the youth of Pakistan feels victim to the eternal anti thesis of nationalism and exile. 

Noble Sahib's view of the Mutiny

One of the passages of Ibn-ul-Waqt which immediately strike out is the monologue or memoir of Noble Sahib given in chapter 3 in which he comments on the Mutiny. As a character representing the Imperial agent or colonizer, we see complete lack of empathy on his part for the locals. Where the natives bore much severe human and economic loss, saw the collapse of their glorious days of rule and were reduced to unimportant and subjugated people in India, there Noble Sahib is preoccupied with his own trivial problems which deal only with his own self. He complains that “mein walaiyat jaane se raha....meri gyaara bars ki kamayi sab talf hui” (I was unable to go back....I lost all that I had saved during the last eleven years”. This is all his personal agony and in no way does he show any remorse for what the British had done to the natives of India. In fact, the mentality of the Imperial colonizer is further exemplified in “Hindustani qaum ne sarkari quwat ka andaza karne mein ghalti ki” (The Indian soldiers were mistaken in their estimate of the power of the Government). Clearly, the Noble Sahib speaks for the entire British Government and finds it superior and better armed and equipped than the Indians. He reminds everyone of the superior position of the British and the insignificance of the efforts and fight put up by their enemies during the Mutiny.

Moreover, he paints the Governor General of India as a benefactor and saviour of the rebellious natives. He uses words like ‘muddabar’, ‘muntazim’ and ‘saib-e-alrai’ for his superior portraying him as a prudent statesman and good administrator of India. The Governor General is apparently a forgiving man who would spare the people unless they have taken English lives during the Mutiny. It is interesting to note that only English lives are to be mourned while the terrible human loss of natives is never mentioned in Noble Sahib’s memoir and we don’t see any resentment or apologetic sentiment in his monologue.