I rshad Abdulkadir’s latest novel, The Lady of Sohanbela, is a story about the ‘good’ feudal and the ‘bad’ feudal. At first impression, the novel feels like an exercise in wishful thinking, of which anyone can be guilty. The protagonist, Kamila, is a highly educated independent woman. She is also beautiful and intelligent, but gives up all her academic and professional aspirations when a marriage proposal suddenly arrives from Mansoor, the sardar [chieftain] of Puran Sharif. The prospective groom is an Ivy League-educated, progressive feudal and father of two young daughters.

As the plot progresses, it begins to feel like the clichéd Western portrayal of a modernised feudal family. The protagonists — the sardar and his beautiful and independent wife who also just happens to be the “rightful heir” and caretaker of a local shrine, as confirmed by a spiritual experience she has upon her visit to the place — reveal a complex consanguinity of conservative feudal and religious traditions and their significance in Pakistani society.

It is only when the huffing and puffing is over and better sense prevails that readers realise that The Lady of Sohanbela is a successful exercise in painting a closer-to-reality picture of the ‘rightful’ place — one may disagree on what that entails — of the feudal elite in the country.

One may also disagree on what this reality is, depending on one’s background and gender. However, the socio-political, and even religious, infrastructure that ensures that assets and power remain firmly in the hands of a ‘chosen’ few — mostly men — has stood the test of time, education and exposure to ‘civilised’ cultures, at least according to this book.

One can also argue, on the other hand, that blood is thicker than water. And herein lies the dichotomy that drives this novel and makes it so interesting. Kamila apparently has a reason for leaving everything she has ever known to settle down with a previously married feudal lord and become the stepmother of one’s dreams to his children: she just happens to be the daughter of the woman who was the rightful caretaker of the shrine of Sohanbela, but was driven away by the quintessential ‘bad’ feudal who apparently stops at nothing to get what he wants.

With good and bad feudals, a love triangle and nods to other hot-button contemporary issues, this novel could very well be the basis of a Pakistani version of the popular British show Downton Abbey

It is revealed early in the plot that the bad feudal, Makhdum Aftab, was the one who almost killed Kamila’s mother and, perhaps, also Kamila’s father-in-law, the father of Puran Sharif’s current sardar. A distant relation of the premier family of Puran Sharif, Makhdum Aftab nurtures a longstanding grudge against them for not receiving the title of sardar.

In many ways, the story reminds one of the most well-known feudal family of the country: the Bhuttos. Benazir Bhutto indeed was a remarkable woman; she fought many battles, both personal and political, independently and with a stoicism that few possess. These qualities led her to be elected as the first woman prime minister of any Muslim country in the world.

However, what her supporters often overlook is the fact that Bhutto was in a position to overcome the obstacles thrown in her way because she came from a powerful family and was the daughter of a charismatic former prime minister. Hence, her qualities and her successes are all somewhat predicated in her being a Bhutto.

It appears that the author, in his attempt to put Kamila in a position of power, overlooked these factors. Kamila’s story and her role as the caretaker of a shrine — established in the plot via the bloodlink with her mother — perhaps aims to portray that a woman can be in a position of power despite social challenges.

But the fact that her position in her serfdom is strengthened by her marriage to the feudal lord underpins the nexus between power, money and politics. Moreover, the dialogues of Mansoor’s mother, Bibi Jan, and her history of finding someone of “pure blood” for her son shed light on this conventional mindset, and reinforce the belief that blood is thicker than water.

It is apparent that the author conducted a great deal of research to write this novel. He does not shy away from including these lessons in his book, peppering them throughout his work in the form of elaborate conversations. Some of the lessons, especially those concerning the state of law and order and life for the common folk feel very poignant.

For example, in a conversation with the matriarch Bibi Gul and the Ivy League-educated Mansoor, the foreman of their estate, himself a law graduate, says: “Bibi saeen, the authorities tell us what the law is but the day-today application of the law is with the sardars and, when we have law-abiding sardars and pirs, there is law and order but, when they are non-existent, as now, we live in the dark ages. ... When our lords are crooked, breaking the law costs nothing. … a crime is not a crime until an FIR is issued and FIRs are issued by the SHO at the police station at the instructions of the overlord.”

The author has also ensured to spice the plot with all the contemporary elements of a good (best-selling) novel: a love triangle, a potential blasphemy conflict, an attempt on Kamila’s life by men of the bad feudal Makhdum Aftab, and Kamila’s encounter with a breakaway faction of the Tehreek-i-Taliban Pakistan (TTP) operating in the area at Aftab’s behest.

While some conflicts, especially the one pertaining to blasphemy — surprisingly prevented by a wise imam [leader of the mosque] — feel real and probable, the potential love triangle and its amicable solution feel a bit far-fetched. Moreover, Kamila’s kidnapping by the TTP men who don’t know who she is until she is kidnapped, and her instant recognition of the leader and knowledge that he is responsible for the breakaway faction, is also a little difficult to digest.

The Lady of Sohanbela could very well be the basis of a Pakistani version of the popular British show Downton Abbey. It not only portrays feudal lords in a good light, but also justifies the system’s existence by explaining and recounting repeatedly the work Mansoor has put in Puran Sharif for its economic and social development.

Mansoor’s efforts, it goes without saying, while benefitting the people, also strengthen his position and power as a feudal lord. One might argue that this is how good governance works: those ‘elected’ to office do their utmost to serve the people who gave them the mandate. Except, Puran Sharif is not a democracy and Mansoor — his good work notwithstanding — has not been chosen by the people of the area. He is in his position of power simply by virtue of being a feudal lord’s only heir. Puran Sharif is the serfdom of our dreams.

The reviewer is a member of staff

The Lady of Sohanbela
By Irshad Abdulkadir
Lightstone, Karachi
ISBN: 978-9697161546
226pp.

Published in Dawn, Books & Authors, November 7th, 2021