Reviewed by Chishty Mujahid

LET it be said at the very outset that Peter Oborne deserves high praise for producing a first-rate, much needed history of Pakistan cricket (the last endeavours were by Omar Noman and the epic effort in five volumes by Dr Nauman Niaz which was commissioned by the Pakistan Cricket Board).

Wounded Tiger: A History of Cricket in Pakistan is thoroughly researched, lucidly written and very objective in spite of Oborne’s heavy dependence on interviews with a few selected Pakistani cricketers and their family members. It is indeed ironic that this work should be authored by a Western journalist rather than a Pakistani writer. But it is admirable that Oborne shows no bias or strong leaning towards the West, and Marylebone Cricket Club (MCC) and the International Cricket Council (ICC) both come under criticism. After all, this book is authored by the person who took up cudgels in favour of Basil D’Oliveira, the South African all-rounder who was a victim of apartheid (in his only other book connected to cricket). Also praiseworthy is Oborne’s rebuttal of many Indian versions of Pakistani cricket such as those by Ramchandra Guha, Shashi Tharoor and others.

The title “Wounded Tiger” for a history of Pakistan cricket is a bit confusing if not exactly misleading, as it is also the title of Martin Bennett’s famous book about a Pearl Harbor hero. Oborne was probably influenced by the term “cornered tigers” used for the World Cup winning Pakistan team in 1992. The book also divulges (treacherously) that Oborne is a famous political journalist and television commentator and that he has not followed Pakistan cricket, or, for that matter, any cricket very closely in person.

However, Oborne’s overview of cricket serves its basic purpose, particularly for the layperson who knows little or nothing about this fascinating colonial game that has held the subcontinent in thrall since the last century.

Personalities abound in Oborne’s narrative, and he offers compelling sketches of Kardar, Fazal Mahmood, members of the “Zaman Park” clan, including the majestic Majid Khan, and the best known and the most charismatic Imran Khan under whose leadership Pakistan won the World Cup in 1992, as well as those of Hanif Mohammed’s family, and present-day scions like Mohammad Yousaf, Shoaib Akhtar, Misbahul Haq and others. However, only a few lines are dedicated to another Khan’s (Younis) victory in the ICC World Twenty20 in 2009. This, in the present day context, is more popular with the fans. He also presents sketches of the lives of Abdul Qadir, Mushtaq Ahmed and Shoaib Akhtar (although he leaves out many others).

Oborne has depended heavily on the cooperation of several people to shape his narrative, and the book contains some memorable quotations from former leading Pakistani players and officials. It is obvious that he would have liked to have widened his selection of interviews to get a complete and equitable balance (Fazal’s recollection of some incidents, for example, Alvin Robert Cornelius’ reaction after the Oval victory, are hard to fathom). But many potential sources were probably either not available or not willing to cooperate.

Leaving no stone unturned, Wounded Tiger also dwells on women’s cricket, the inevitable influence of politics on the game, match-fixing, and institutions including (but not limited to) the PCB, ICC, and the Board of Control for Cricket in India. But herein lies the weakness of the book — the topics are so vast that Oborne fails to do more than scratch the surface of many matters. Under­standably, because of Oborne’s penchant for political analysis, he delves into the British Raj, the aches and pains of independence, the Partition of the subcontinent, cricket in Kashmir, and the Talibans’ views on cricket (not dissimilar to those of Oliver Cromwell who had banned cricket and games of chance).

More commendable is Oborne’s detailed examination of the grossly indecent, puerile and inelegant (and clearly illegal) so-called practical joke played on umpire Idris Baig by the MCC XI. Oborne is careful to present Baig in a sporting light, which makes perfect sense since many a man would have responded with far less philosophical grace and tolerance.

Baig was a suave and elegant personality, always immaculately dressed, whose strongest intoxication was chewing cardamom. The real facts are revealed by Oborne because of his access to the MCC papers (facts which corroborate Omar Kureshi’s version given years ago as he was a first-hand witness; other versions, including those by some of the players directly involved, are inconsistent and distorted). Full credit goes to Oborne for condemning the English team and management for this act.

While Oborne could probably still have done justice to his topic were he to have approached it with the condescending detachment that characterises other publications that regard Pakistani cricket as nothing more than a fluke of post-colonial history, his view is neither this limited nor this biased. He is, in many instances, as critical of the white regimes that used to dominate the game as he is quick to censure Pakistanis for less than sterling ethics.

Barring a few slips and spelling errors of proper nouns as well as Oborne’s unfortunate caption of one of the photographs describing the Nawab of Pataudi (Iftikhar Ali) as “emperor” and Kardar as “retainer” (this does not match the picture painted of Kardar’s personality throughout the text), the book appears carefully documented, almost academic. There are footnotes and endnotes galore, and although many of these can be attributed to personal conversations, others rely on an interesting 12-page bibliography of diverse sources. They also cause irritating (albeit essential) breaks in otherwise absorbing reading. Moreover, the basing of the narrative on different, and at times contrasting, versions gleaned from the writings of Kardar, Fazal, Shujauddin, Hanif, and Miandad, among others, diminishes rather than enhances the clarity of the text.

Nevertheless, even those familiar with the history of cricket will find facts in this book that they may have never encountered (such as Majid’s revelation that his father, the great Dr Jahangir Khan, was a member of the Radcliffe boundary commission; or comments on Fazal’s blue eyes by royalty) or forgotten long ago. Perhaps because of lack of information, Pakistan’s 1962 disastrous tour of England gets only a few pages in spite of it being a full five-test trip. We are not told why and how Hasib Ahsan’s career was cut short, or given the fairy tale debut of Javed Akhtar; or why Javed Burki was censured by a commission on return.

The book also does not explain why Pakistan has so many “one test wonders” nor how some well-connected young players made their international debuts. It should come as no surprise to anyone that cricket (like many other great games, including American baseball) is only part athletics. Its other components range from ugly interpersonal politics to overarching international issues. Perhaps no factor, other than language, unifies the former British colonies as this sport, which for all its acquired and endowed complexity is little more than what my grand-daughter once termed ‘men playing in a garden.’

Perhaps Oborne’s book is engrossing primarily because it is imbued with the very spirit about which he writes; a spirit that contagiously links millions of Pakistanis. In the end we can rightfully write “well played, Peter Oborne. And thank you.”

The reviewer is a cricket commentator and former chief executive of the Pakistan Cricket Board

Wounded Tiger: A History of Cricket in Pakistan

(SPORTS)

By Peter Oborne

Simon & Schuster, UK

ISBN 0857200747

624pp.