From the day Pakistan came into being, ideas formulated by ‘modernist’ scholars such as Sir Syed Ahmad Khan and Allama Muhammad Iqbal have been cherry-picked by the state. By the 1980s, Iqbal had been turned into an Islamist ideologue and Sir Syed into a simple educationist who founded a university in pre-Partition India.

Sir Syed’s 19th century writings, which sought to reform the way Islamic texts were studied and then understood, are barely touched upon. But in the second half of the 19th century and the first half of the 20th, they were at the centre of discourse on South Asian Islam and competed amicably in the marketplace of Islamic ideas. But they went out of fashion along with the whole Islamic modernist project from the 1980s onwards.

Sir Syed’s proposed methodology of ‘rationally’ deciphering Islamic scriptures became increasingly problematic in post-1971 Pakistan. Sir Syed had encouraged a contextual reading of the sacred texts, for which he sought to bring forth a more ‘accurate’ understanding of Islamic history and theology, outside of traditional sources. But in post-1970s Pakistan, Sir Syed lost relevance, his status greatly diminished in the country. 

He increasingly came to be highlighted as an educationist alone. In textbooks, that is all he is — even though he played a major role in guiding the Muslims of India towards seeking modern education and also in developing a rational disposition to accordingly interpret Islam’s holy texts, so that they could benefit from the social, economic and scientific products of modernity without compromising their overarching Muslim identity.

Since the inception of Pakistan, Islamic modernists such as Allama Muhammad Iqbal and Sir Syed Ahmad Khan have had their ideas selectively reinterpreted by the state. However, it was another, anti-modernist, Islamic thinker whose ideas came to dominate the Pakistani landscape from the late 1970s onwards

But to 20th century leftists, he was a product of Western colonialism, and to the Islamists, a ‘heretic.’ The truth is, he was an elixir of sorts for a Muslim community that had plunged into deep depression and pessimism after the complete erosion of Muslim rule in India. The ulema had posited a rather simplistic explanation of the Muslim condition in 19th century India. They insisted that India’s Muslim rulers — especially the 16th century Mughal emperor Akbar — had weakened Islam with their lax attitude towards the faith. 

Sir Syed rejected the reasons provided by the ulema for the deteriorating condition of Indian Muslims. He formulated an alternative narrative that went a long way in halting the complete withdrawal of the Muslim community into inertia, nostalgia and irrationalism. Yet, in Pakistan by the late 1970s, Sir Syed was hardly visible on the pedestal of the country’s national heroes. By then, his ideas were even struggling to compete with those of the pioneering Islamist theorist Abul Ala Maududi, despite the fact that Maududi was a harsh critic of the country’s primary founder, Muhammad Ali Jinnah.

Iqbal’s presence and status, though, is ubiquitous. He is credited for being a most inspirational poet and philosopher. His prose and poems are the subjects of study by intellectuals and students alike, and his words have often been evoked for impact by various governments in Pakistan, state institutions and by political parties.

His portraits can be found on the walls of government offices, in classrooms and cultural institutions across the country. In 1962, the government formed an Iqbal Academy to promote the study of the works of Iqbal (‘Iqbaliyat’). Yet, Iqbal never saw the creation of Pakistan. He passed away nine years before Pakistan came into being. 

Iqbal’s intellectual trajectory is interesting. From being a passionate Indian nationalist, committed to strengthening relations between the region’s Hindu and Muslim communities, he eventually settled on fancying himself as an iconoclastic romantic, striving to create a ‘New Muslim Man’ who was driven by passion, imagination and intuition.

There was always more than one Iqbal. The state, intelligentsias (both on the left and right) and politicians in Pakistan have cherry-picked and utilised each one of these, according to contemporary political needs. But the one which has existed in textbooks since the 1980s is an Iqbal revered as an Islamist ideologue of sorts.

The more obvious Islamist ideologue, Maududi, was against the creation of Pakistan. He was also a harsh critic of Jinnah. He viewed him as a ‘token Muslim’, and a Westernised politician. Yet, it was Maududi’s thesis of the Islamic state that largely informed the ‘Islamisation’ project initiated in Pakistan from the late-1970s and especially across the 1980s.

There are no Maududi portraits on the walls of government institutions, schools or in army mess halls. But one can posit that, if Jinnah were the founder of a Pakistan that lasted from 1947 till 1971, the founder of the Pakistan that emerged after 1971 was Maududi.

The theocratic conflict today in Pakistan is not between Islamic modernists and the theocrats anymore. The conflict is mainly between advocates of theocracy and those of ‘theodemocracy.’ Ironically, both were in the forefront to eliminate Islamic modernism, but are now in conflict with each other. This conflict has greatly narrowed the political, social and religious discourse in the country.

The conflict’s fallouts have become increasingly tough to address by a state that played a major role in creating this malaise in the first place, but is now struggling to neutralise it.

Published in Dawn, EOS, November 17th, 2024