Friday, 24 January 2014

Ibn ul-Vaqt: the crux as I see it.

Written more than a decade after his “prize-winning,” reformist works, Mir`āt al-‘Arūs, Banāt al-N‘āsh, and Taubat al-Nașūĥ, Nazir Ahmad’s Ibn ul-Vaqt, or the “Son of the Moment,” leaves behind the resolution of its predecessors, entering a realm of cultural ambivalence and inherent instability. Partially autobiographical, for its protagonist, the eponymous Ibn ul-Vaqt, has attended Delhi College and served in the colonial administration, this late work concludes in anti-climax, debate, and divided sympathies rather than the final narrative pronouncement that was so visible in Nazir Ahmad’s earlier fiction writings. But more than a treatise on the author’s own state of being, Ibn ul-Vaqt is often read as a satire of sorts on Syed Ahmad Khan, Nazir Ahmad’s mentor and friend, who endured much censure from the Indian Muslims for his conciliatory measures with the British in the years following 1857.[1]  Beginning around the time of the Mutiny and concluding a few years after, Ibn ul-Vaqt captures in no uncertain way the crisis—social, political, and cultural—that overtook the emergent Muslim bourgeoisie in the final decades of the nineteenth century.
The story of a man from a distinguished and sharīf household, living at a time when “studying English was considered tantamount to blasphemy” (angrēzī paŗhnā kufr samjħā jātā tħā), Ibn ul-Vaqt details its protagonist’s changed fortunes after he mercifully saves an Englishman, “Noble Sahib,” from a cruel death during the Mutiny.[2] Though Ibn ul-Vaqt had blindly idolized the colonial government even before this incident, a newfound friendship with Noble Sahib allows him entry into the world of his rulers. Before long Ibn ul-Vaqt is attending and throwing dinner parties for the English, dressing like them, and furnishing his house in their style with the wealth he has acquired as a reward for loyalty to the colonizers. But jealousies, specially on the part of the Eurasians, and the departure of Noble Sahib for England leave him somewhat isolated and abandoned, belonging, finally, to neither native nor colonial society. Even as Ibn ul-Vaqt styles himself as an Englishman, he moves further and further away from his own religion, stopping just short of drinking alcohol. The text concludes with a debate on Islamic practice between him and his brother-in-law Hujjat ul-Islam, his name literally meaning the “the one who intervenes on behalf of Islam,” newly returned from pilgrimage, who makes it his job to redeem Ibn ul-Vaqt.
The question of how Nazir Ahmad intended for such a text to be read is a difficult one—more so than any of his other writings, Ibn ul-Vaqt is marked by the “conflicting impulses and ideas” that Oesterheld broadly argues were produced by “contact with the colonial administration and the new education system.”[3] Historically speaking, Ahmad made his views on Muslims of Ibn ul-Vaqt’s ilk quite explicit in later lectures: “We can assume that a Muslim who abandons Islam will never become a Christian or a Jew, or anything. He will just be a heretic and an atheist. And thus if English-loving Muslims had not been restrained, the prevailing thought was that they would long have become heretics and atheists” (y‘ānī musalmān jō islām sē bħāgā bas samajħ lō kēh vōh nā ‘īsā`ī hō gā nā yahūd nā kučħ nā kučħ. vōh hō gā tō mulĥid aur dehrīā hō gā aur bas. ġarź angrēzī dān musalmānōñ kī agar rōk tħām nā kī ga`ī hōtī tō żin-e ġālib tħā kēh vōh kab kē mulĥid aur dehrīyē hō gay`ē hōtē). Likewise, though he was happy to praise Syed Ahmad Khan’s contribution to the education of Muslims, he also warned his audiences that when the young men from Aligarh College emerged from under the “magic spells” (jantriōñ) of reform and English education, it would be the duty of the “old-fashioned Muslims” (purānī faishan kē musalmānōñ) to bring them back to the fold.[4] Though he “lavished praise on Western civilization and celebrated British rule,” Nazir Ahmad “disgraced and humiliated” Ibn ul-Vaqt when he chose to mimic the English completely, raising the character of Hujjat ul-Islam to enact his spiritual salvation.[5]
I suggest we read Ibn ul-Vaqt as continuous with Taubat al-Nașūĥ in many ways, shifting from the private realm of the home to the public sphere in the colonial Delhi. Ibn ul-Vaqt, like the vagrant Kalim, tests an alternative existence to that made possible for him by way of religion, wandering into a cultural space that initially eludes, and finally rejects him. We encounter, towards the conclusion of the text, a protagonist who is essentially made homeless by his own transgressions; neither properly a Muslim, nor English, the solitary figure of Ibn ul-Vaqt becomes a final symptom of British Orientalism in the Indian subcontinent. That is to say, we can locate the narrative surrounding Ibn ul-Vaqt as emerging from within the literary conditions of the colony. Though ostensibly he resembles the displaced Muslim of Oriental tales such as Vathek and Nourjahad, and at times even the familiarized Friday from Defoe’s Robinson Crusoe, Ibn ul-Vaqt is the ironically final response to the series of wandering Muslims that have populated English and imperially patronized fictions over the course of almost two centuries.
When I refer to him as ironic and final, I am pointing to the irreversibility of his condition, one that has formed in the wake of a series of fictional and scholarly representations that become imbricated within the narratives of a native elite. His decline, both as a Muslim and as a resource to the colonial government, is followed by the rise of Hujjat ul-Islam, a servant simultaneously faithful to Islam and to the English, interestingly, an adherent of a return to traditional Oriental learning, a native Orientalist of sorts. Compared to Ibn ul-Vaqt who echoes edicts learnt from Western histories about India, Hujjat ul-Islam advocates a return to classical Arabic, and servility to the English. What both of these figures represent, very powerfully and poignantly, however, is the compromise and subjugation of Islam outside of an empire-formation that it is not its own. In other words, Ibn ul-Vaqt stages the relocation of the Muslim from the Islamic Empire into the British Empire, and the subsequent moral and social degradation he is forced to endure.



[1] See: Muzzafar Alam, The Language of Political Islam: India, 1200-1800 (London: Hurst, 2004), 17.
[2]Ahmad, Ibn ul-Vaqt, in Majmū‘ā-e Nazir Ahmad, 51.
[3]Oesterheld, “Deputy Nazir Ahmad and Delhi College,” 317.
[4]Ahmad, Lekčarōñ kā majmū‘ā, Vol. 2, 43.
[5]Hassan, A Moral Reckoning, 180.

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