Ten Questions With 'Seth Godin'

Click Here to find a detail interview and answers.

1. Question: Other than hindsight, how does someone know when it’s time to quit?
2. Question: If I’m in the middle of a dip, how do I know if it’s worth gutting it out to get to the other side?
3. Question: Is there a place for the intrinsic value of learning a skill—for example, playing hockey or the violin—even though you know you won’t be the best in the world?
4. Question: What if the market is not established so there’s no way to know if it even exists and if it’s worth dedicating/rededicating to?
5. Question: How can a company quit a product and not give the incorrect signal that it’s quitting the market?
6. Question: What’s more powerful: a short-term pain or long-term gain?
7. Question: Do most companies quit too early or try too long?
8. Question: Should Microsoft quit the MP3 player market?
9. Question: Should Apple quit the personal computer market?
10. Question: Should America quit the Iraq War?

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History Personified

In 1938, the New York-based Institute of Current World Affairs awarded 23-year-old Phillips Talbot a fellowship with a mandate: visit the Indian subcontinent and learn abut the intricacies of life there. Till 1950, he graphically recounted the build up to Indian and Pakistani independence, and the early experiences of the new states, in the form of several letters to the Institute. This experience also afforded him an opportunity to meet with almost all the great politicians of the time, from Gandhi to Jinnah and from Nehru to Liaquat Ali Khan. He stands out among his contemporary historians on account of the fact that his can be termed the most objective analysis of those turbulent days. A journalist to the core, soft-spoken and refined Talbot was the India correspondent of the Chicago Daily News in 1946. In this capacity too, he attended almost all the major events – even if they entailed travelling by foot or riding a bicycle – leading up to the Indian subcontinent’s partition. However, the most striking thing about his personality is his good memory. Even at 93, though he looks slightly younger than that, Talbot can recount at length events that took place almost seven decades ago. It would not be an overstatement to say that not only did he see the history being made, he personifies it. Talbot, who is currently the president emeritus of The Asia Society, USA, also served as US ambassador to Greece from 1965 to 1969. His books include South Asia in the World Today (edited); India and America: A study of Their Relations (co-authored with S I Poplai); India in the 1980s; and An American Witness to India’s Partition. In 2002, the Indian government awarded Talbot the Padma Shri. The News on Sunday got an opportunity to interview him during his recent visit to Lahore.


Mustafa Nazir Ahmed: In which US state were you born and from where did you get your education?
Phillips Talbot: I was born in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania, in 1914. I grew up mainly in the Middle Western state of Wisconsin. I went to public schools in Wauwatosa, a suburb of that state’s largest city, Wisconsin. My father, a civil engineer, was a corporate executive who became the director of research of his manufacturing company. Our family lived comfortably till my last year of high school, when in the depth of the 1930s Great Depression my father’s job was eliminated when his company nearly collapsed. Getting to college in 1932 would have been an impossible dream but for an invitation by my grandfather, a professor of engineering at the University of Illinois, to live with him and enrol in that institution for graduation. My grandfather’s ideas and work ethics made a big impression on me.
MNA: Which subjects did you study at college?
PT: I studied political science and journalism, rather than my family’s traditional subject, engineering.
MNA: Why did you choose to study journalism?
PT: I got interested in journalism because of the freedom of expression it allowed, though I became the ‘black sheep’ of a family of engineers.
MNA: Did you get a job after your graduation?
PT: Getting a job in 1936 was not easy, as the country was experiencing the bottom of Great Depression. However, I was lucky enough to be employed as a local reporter by the Chicago Daily News, then that city’s leading afternoon paper.
MNA: How did you become a foreign correspondent then?
PT: After I started my career in journalism, my interest in the world beyond America’s shores grew, in part as I realised how much of the glamour in journalism rested in its foreign correspondents in London, Rome, Berlin or elsewhere. When I tried for such an assignment, my editors told me, accurately, that “I was too young and too green” to be considered. The lucky break came when Walter S Rogers, director of the New York-based Institute of Current World Affairs, visited my newspaper and described the Institute’s desire to stake someone to India studies as part of its overall commitment to increase the pool of American knowledge of what we know call non-Western peoples.
MNA: Considering that you only 23 at that time, why were you chosen for that assignment?
PT: The Institute of Current World Affairs judged that, in view of the immense variety of Indian life, the fellow to be chosen for that assignment might well be a young journalist –in others words, a generalist accustomed to study and write on different dimensions of a broad topic. Another reason was that an expert was not required, as the purpose was only to present a picture of the Indian society at that time.
MNA: Were you interested in India too?
PT: Frankly, no. I grew interested not because the subject was India, about which I was ignorant and had no prior information, but because I believed this exposure in one country might set me on the road to becoming a foreign correspondent.
MNA: What was the perception of the US and the ordinary Americans about the Indian subcontinent at that time?
PT: The Americans, barring a few scholars and academics, knew nothing about the Indian subcontinent or its inhabitants till then. In fact, the British resisted the involvement of Americans, especially in the field of business, in their most valued colony, which was coloured red on the map as part of the British Empire. Another reason for this lack of knowledge was that no American had written an account of the Indian subcontinent till then and there was no major group of Indians living in the US at that time. The only Americans who had some exposure to the Indian subcontinent were Christian missionaries or, in exceptional cases, businesspeople. In comparison, China was much more accessible to the US and Americans at that time. The US media also covered only a few important political leaders like Mohandas Karamchand Gandhi and Jawaharlal Nehru, plus a few maharajas. The Institute of Current World Affairs was actually formed after no expert on India could be made available to then US president Woodrow Wilson to advise him during World War I. The overall ignorance of the Americans about the Indian subcontinent was also one of the main reasons for sending me to this part of the world.
MNA: So you were sent to India straight away?
PT: No, the Institute of Current World Affairs wisely decided that I needed some scholarly discipline on India before being plunged into that land. With American offerings available, I was shoe-horned into the one-year academic programme offered for Indian Civil Service (ICS) probationers at the London School of Oriental and African Studies.
MNA: How was that experience?
PT: In that year (1938-39), about half the probationers were British (all expecting full careers in India) and half Indian. During our year together, our small group had contacts with a wide variety of British and Indian officials, politicians, journalists and other people. A dividend of that year in London was that I had classmates whose assignments in the following years placed them in many of the Indian provinces that I visited.
MNA: What were your first impressions of the Indian subcontinent?
PT: I spent most of my time in the Indian subcontinent before the British left. When I first arrived in India, the Raj was very much firm and on top of things, especially after the 1935 Government of India Act. Most of the British ICS officers expected to spend their whole life here, as it was not in their remotest thinking that they would have to leave one day. As far as I am concerned, my main concern was to learn about India. I discussed this with a number of people and they suggested that I take one slice at a time. So, my first two years in India (1939-1941) were broadly divided between Muslim and Hindu settings. The Muslim experience included a term at the Aligarh Muslim University, which was India’s leading centre of Islamic academics and politics; followed by a community study in a rather isolated village in Kashmir. I also attended some major political meetings, including the All India Muslim League’s Lahore session where it formally adopted the goal of a separate country for Muslims. During my second year, I concentrated on Hindu settings, with stints at a Vedic Ashram in Lahore, Rabindranath Tagore’s Shantiniketan centre, the Konaikanal Ashram in south India and Gandhi’s ashram, Sevagra. I also did a couple of urban community studies in Lahore and Bombay (now Mumbai).
MNA: Did you anticipate that the British would leave India one day?
PT: No one anticipated that, as the politics functioned under the conditions set by the British. However, after the World War II, British bankruptcy became clear – India became a creditor to the Great Britain rather than a debtor. The British estimated that they needed 60,000 soldiers to subjugate India, but they did not have the enough human resources at that time. It was then British prime minister Clement Attlee, who came to power after pro-imperialism Sir Winston Churchill, on whom the reality dawned and who brought about a fundamental shift in the prevalent British thinking. Had it not been for Attlee, the decolonisation of the Indian subcontinent might have been a generation or two away. One must remember that the independence of India and Pakistan were one of the most crucial developments of the twentieth century. Though the centuries-old imperialist system was destined to end anyway, it was the independence of India and Pakistan that kick-started the process of decolonisation. The French, Spanish, Portuguese and the Belgians only followed suit the British as far as granting independence to their respective colonies is concerned. In short, this was the period of transition from imperialism to nationalism.
MNA: But why did the British leave the Indian subcontinent much earlier than they had announced?
PT: By the time Lord Mountbatten became the governor general of India, the law and order situation was already deteriorating. The forces of the British and the nationalists came at loggerheads. On the other hand, communal problems were on the rise. The situation became so worse that Hindu police could not control mobs of their community and the same was true for Muslims. This forced the British to leave earlier than announced.
MNA: How were the relations between Hindus and Muslims in the pre-partition days?
PT: In most of the places, they lived in complete harmony. However, there were occasional riots even in otherwise peaceful cities like Lahore.
MNA: Do you think that the creation of Pakistan was the right decision?
PT: No one foresaw that the partition would be so violent. To the contrary, Muhammad Ali Jinnah believed that the partition would reduce tensions between Muslims and Hindus. In fact, a number of proposals were floated in this regard. A prominent leader of All India Muslim League shared with me as many as eight different geographic plans for the new country. Similarly, another idea was to divide the Indian subcontinent along ethnic lines and have as many separate countries. The people of south India also wanted a separate country for them and even chose Dravidistan as its name. The people and leaders of Kerala also wanted it to be a separate country, as did the Nizam of Hyderabad.
MNA: Did you anticipate the separation of East Pakistan?
PT: Yes. Many important Indian leaders, including Muslims, believed that the idea of Pakistan was not feasible. They even argued that room should be left for Pakistan to rejoin India whenever it feels like doing so. However, the general impression was that the eastern wing of Pakistan will rejoin India in a matter of a few years, while the western wing might take longer.
MNA: Whom would you go for if given a choice – Gandhi, Nehru, Jinnah, Patel or Bose?
PT: Gandhi was the conscience of the Indian National Congress, very different from other political leaders of the time. Nehru, on the other hand, was an idealist. He gave India the gift of 17 years of solid leadership, established institutions and built a foundation for his country. Jinnah could have done similar for Pakistan had he lived on longer. Coming to Patel, many people believed that he was the better choice as India’s prime minister than Nehru – he was the one who brought many princely states into India’s dominion. However, he was tough against Muslims as well as Pakistan. Bose, on the other hand, was a maverick, a real intellectual.
MNA: Do you believe in the theory of clash of civilisations?
PT: No, as it misses the point of conflicts we have observed. Religion is used as a point of identification by a political group only at times. Basically, all the conflicts are political in nature and they have nothing to do with either religion or culture.
MNA: Does this mean that the US should bring about a change in its ongoing policy?
PT: Why not? We have entered a new phase of world history. As a result of globalisation, new economic powers like China and India are restructuring global patterns. Therefore, even a great power like the US should adjust its policies to take into account the interests of the nations that are on the rise. There is no room for unilateralism, either by the US or any other country, in this era of globalisation.
MNA: Has Lahore changed since you last visited the city?
PT: A lot. The new construction is obvious. I was astonished to see the new airport, which is not only very modern but also very attractive. Also, the city seems to have expanded a lot. During this visit, I found myself more in unfamiliar places than the familiar ones.


By: Mustafa Nazir Ahmad

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Defying Barriers [Aaliya Rasheed]

Aaliya Rasheed, a 26-year old dhrupad singer, is an aspiring example of how even amateur singers can perfect their skills by learning with strict training and discipline. Blind since birth, Aaliya is blessed with a tuneful voice. She gratefully used this gift of God by starting to learn music at the age of six. Later, she received training in music at the Sangan Nagar Institute of Philosophy and Arts (SIPA), Lahore, where Ustad Mubarak Ali Khan Sahib taught her. Appreciating her talent, SIPA’s founder, Barrister Raza Kazim, persuaded Aaliya Rasheed in 2001 to go to India for learning dhrupad – the oldest surviving style of medieval Indian classical music that has a rich devotional element. In India, she tool residence at the Dhrupad Institute of Bhopal, where she spent four years under the tutelage of the renowned Gundecha brothers. Since her return, Aaliya Rasheed has been performing at various concerts in Pakistan – such as the All Pakistan Music Conference (APMC) – and has also performed twice in India; including what she terms her “most memorable performance”, held in Mumbai in March 2008. She currently teaches at the Musicology Department of the National College of Arts (NCA), Lahore, besides imparting musical knowledge to schoolchildren. The News on Sunday interviewed her recently on the sidelines of a concert held at the University of Gujrat. Excerpts follow:

Mustafa Nazir Ahmed: Were you blind by birth and how far did you study?
Aaliya Rasheed: I was blind by birth. In fact, blindness runs in my family and one of my cousins is also blind. I came to Lahore at the age of six from Dubai and took admission in a blind school in Allama Iqbal Town, Lahore. I did my matriculation from here. Because my family was in Dubai and later in Gujranwala, I had to live in a hostel with my aunt and uncle visiting me on weekends. Later, I did my Intermediate privately.
MNA: At what age did you start learning music?

AR: I started taking a fancy to music since childhood and listened to all sorts of music. In my school, there was a half-hour music class daily. My teacher was Master Alexander Neelam, who taught me the basics of music. He taught me how to top play harmonium, keyboards and dholak. Due to his training and the fact that I needed to listen to anything only once to remember it, I won many prizes for the school. I also participated in many television programmes, such as Mela. As a matter of fact, I still listen to all sorts of music, but perform classical only.
MNA: When did you decide to follow a career in classical music?
AR: After I did my Matriculation, the school where I was studying offered me the job of music teacher. Subsequently, I started working at the school besides pursuing my studies privately. In August 1999, I got an offer from Sanjan Nagar and was fascinated by the opportunity to learn classical music. In fact, Sanjan Nagar’s founder Raza Kazim listened to my singing and advised me to learn classical music. He made me quit the morning job and offered me a stipend more than double my salary. Raza Kazim also convinced my mother, who had apprehensions about my learning music. I spent three to four hours in the mornings at Sanjan Nagar, listening to music and practicing, while I studied in the afternoons and evenings. Meanwhile, I listed to sitar for the first time and slept during the performance. During this period, I met PTV producer Farrukh Bashir and this paved the way for my television performances. Meanwhile, I attended the APMC for the first time in 1999. Farrukh Bashir predicted that I would be performing at the event the next year. His prediction proved to be true: I performed Mirza Ghalib’s ghazal at the APMC in 2000 and won the first prize in the amateurs’ category. This was mainly due to Shabbir Hussain Jhari, who was my teacher at that time.
MNA: From whom did you get your initial training in music?
AR: At Sanjan Nagar, my regular teachers included Ustad Mubarak Ali Khan, Sara Zaman and Shabbir Hussain Jhari. In addition, I also got a chance to attend workshops by Indian artistes. Moreover, I learnt indirectly from many legends who were recording at Sanjan Nagar like Fareeda Khannum. I also got a chance to perform a ghazal of Farida Ji on harmonics.
MNA: When and how did you get a break in your career?
AR: I had not dreamt in my wildest dreams that I would be able to learn music in India, but I got such an opportunity in 2001. Through Raza Kazim’s contacts, I was sent to India to learn dhrupad from Gundecha brothers. I was the first Pakistani woman to learn dhrupad in India and that is why I also feature in the documentary titled Khayal Darpan.
MNA: Would you like to tell us something about the experience of learning music in India?
AR: When I went to India, the relations between Pakistan and India were not at their best; the Kargil incident was still on the people’ minds. However, my teachers – the Gundecha brothers – treated me as a family member during my four-year stay in India. Though there were problems (for example, I was not allowed to eat meat because my teachers were Jains by religion), I have many happy memories of the visit. For example, before my return to Pakistan, all major newspapers and TV channels interviewed me. A performance, which was attended by the then-Pakistani ambassador to India among others, was also held in New Delhi. On my return to Pakistan, many concerts were held in Lahore and Karachi.
MNA: Would you like to tell us about your most memorable performance so far?
AR: I had a chance to visit India twice after my first visit there. My March 25, 2008, performance in Mumbai was perhaps the most memorable, because more than 750 people were there to listen to me at six in the morning. During my second visit to India, I performed at Ahmedabad, Baroda, Calcutta, Bhopal and Mumbai.
MNA: Who are your favourite musicians?
AR: My favourite musicians include Nazakat Ali Khan, Salamat Ali Khan, Roshan Ara Begum, Fateh Ali Khan, Amanat Ali Khan, Bade Ghulam Ali Khan, Parveen Sultana, Bhimen Joshi, Pandit Jasraj and Zakir Hussain.

By: Mustafa Nazir Ahmad

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More than a Sindhi Nationalist

I first met Abrar Kazi during a five-day consultation on Kalabagh Dam in Lahore, back in 1998. The way he argued the Sindh case on this occasion was impressive to say the least. In fact, he was so impressive that by that end of the event even participants from different parts of Pakistan had to agree that the dam, however important it may be for the country’s survival, should only be built after consensus among all the four provinces.
That was almost a decade ago. Since then, Abrar Kazi has expanded the scope of his study manifold and has come up with even more solid and convincing arguments – in research papers and articles, as well as from the platform of Sindh Democratic Party (SDP) – to prove his case against Kalabagh Dam. So say that he sounds reason in whatever he says would be an understatement of the highest order.
To add to this is his humble disposition. Abrar Kazi across as a thorough gentleman, who not only respects difference of opinion but also wants to build bridges cutting across all divides, especially ethnic. These factors have helped him earn a respectable name among his fellow Sindhis, but he also wants the people of Punjab to understand and accommodate the viewpoint of others provinces.
Not only is Abrar Kazi’s integrity unchallengeable; he also possesses a beautiful heart. Despite his tough stance on Kalabagh Dam and all his bitterness for the Punjabi-dominated establishment, when I told him that I wanted to interview him as I respected his views on Kalabagh Dam, I could see tears rolling down his eyes. The event was Tenth Sustainable Development Conference, hosted in the second week of December by Sustainable Development Policy Institute (SDPI) in Islamabad. Excerpts of the interview taken on this occasion by The News on Sunday follow:

Mustafa Nazir Ahmed: Would you like to tell us something about your background?
Abrar Kazi: I was born on February 25, 1942, in the Garhi Yaseen ‘taluka’, which was a part of the Sukkur district at that time but is now a part of the Shikarpur district. My father was a civil servant and we were always on the move. Whenever he was posted to a new city, I had to take admission in a new school. I got my college education in Hyderabad, from where I did my BSc. After that, I studied aviation and got a job with Pakistan International Airlines (PIA). Later, I went to Jordan for about a decade in connection with a job. I finally returned to Pakistan and settled down in Hyderabad in late 1986.
MNA: How did you become an expert on water issues then?
AK: It is true that the water issue has never my area of formal education. Whatever expertise I have acquired is an outcome of extensive reading on this subject. Hyderabad was a stronghold of the Muttahida Qaumi Movement (MQM) when I settled down in the city back in 1986 and ethnic riots were at their peak. This situation inspired me to wage a struggle for the rights of my fellow Sindhis, by taking part in social and political activities. As water was and still is a major issue of the Sindhis, I dedicated myself to doing research on this subject.
MNA: Were you never a part of the Movement for the Restoration of Democracy (MRD)?
AK: No. I came much later, in 1986, and was never formally associated with the MRD.
MNA: Can you share details of your published works on the water issue?
AK: Besides my book, entitled Kalabagh Dam: The Sindh Case, I have contributed numerous of articles on the water issue in Sindhi and English newspapers and journals. I also contributed a research paper for a Ford Foundation book, entitled ‘Haunting Shadows of Human Insecurity’, published in 2006. My article deals mainly with the water dispute between Pakistan and India, but also discusses the latter’s inter-provincial water disputes.
MNA: Is the application of international water laws different at different levels – for instance, between India and Pakistan, and between Punjab and Sindh? For example, when Pakistan becomes a lower riparian in water sharing with India, it objects to all the latter’s plans for not being consulted first, citing international water laws. However, when Sindh claims its rights as a lower riparian in its water disputes with Punjab, the same are ignored. Can you throw some light on this?
AK: The greatest water disputes have been settled by the United States Supreme Court, which has handed down some excellent judgments over the years in many cases pertaining to the water issue. Though these cases were fought between different states of the US, they related to the use of common rivers. Thus the parameters were set and the international law pertaining to the use of common rivers has evolved accordingly over the years. This law applies to common rivers, whether they are used by two countries or by two provinces or states within the same country. In short, the law does not make any distinction between the two. And this is the way it should be, both morally and legally. How these laws are applied – especially in a country like Pakistan, where even the Constitution is held in abeyance after every few years on one pretext or the other – is another thing. In simple words, Pakistan’s position in its water disputes with India is exactly the same as is of Sindh in its water disputes with Punjab. The laws are clear, but we have to do away with jugglery of words to implement them.
MNA: Can you tell us something more about the water laws?
AK: Basically, three are three major laws related to the water issue. One of them has been derived out of the British common law. It states that if a stream of flowing water is being used by people for personal use (not agricultural use), they have complete freedom to use it as much as they want. The second major law is that the upper riparian will always seek consent of the lower riparian before initiating any such project over the common rivers that may adversely affect the latter. This law ensures equitable distribution of water in future once the project has been completed. It has been derived from the Government of India Act, 1935, with relevant clauses in turn derived from the Canal and Drainage Act, 1871, which clearly states that consent of both the parties is required to initiate a new project over common rivers.
The third law, which is especially important in Pakistan’s context, states that the existing projects on a stream will always have preference in terms of allocation of water over the ones that are built later. Let me share the example of Sindh here! Sukkur Barrage was built in 1932, Kotri Barrage in 1954 and Guddu Barrage – which is located above Sukkur Barrage – in 1967. However, when water is released to Sindh, allocation of Sukkur Barrage should be met first though Guddu Barrage is located before it. Only after ensuring that the needs of Sukkur Barrage have been met, as it was the first one to be built, water should be released to Kotri Barrage. Similarly only after ensuring that the needs of Kotri Barrage have been met, water should be released to Guddu Barrage.
The reason for this is simple: the barrages which were built before others already had users when new barrages were constructed on the same stream of water. The logic is that existing users cannot be deprived of their right to water to accommodate new users. This is simple common sense, but it continues to generate a lot of controversy in Pakistan. A number of barrages in Punjab – Chashma, Jhelum, Taunsa to name a few – have been built after the ones in Sindh, but the dominant province allocates water to them without any regard for the older barrages and their users. All this is against the law.
MNA: Does Sindh itself follow this law?
AK: No. Even within Sindh, Guddu Barrage does not release water for the users of Sukkur Barrage without first ensuring that the needs of its own users have been met. In fact, the irrigation system in the province is a complete mess due to rampant corruption. Any release of water through canals should be advertised beforehand, so that the users can make the best use. But this is not the case in Sindh, as the irrigation department’s officials accept bribes to divert water to the land of the influential people.
MNA: Why is the Water and Power Development Authority (WAPDA) so obsessed with Kalabagh Dam, despite global opposition to large dams?
AK: The reason why Wapda insists on Kalabagh Dam to the exclusion of everything else is simple and it is because of this reason that feasibility studies of new dams are not being conducted: no province other than Punjab accrues any economic benefits. Foreign investors were willing to explore coal in Thar, which would have generated an additional 1,000 megawatts of electricity for the country, but the project was shelved to deprive Sindh of its due revenue and of 300,000 jobs for its people. Despite availability of foreign investment, the Thar coal project was stopped by Mian Nawaz Sharif during his second tenure as prime minister, only in order to ensure that the excuse to build Kalabagh Dam remains. This is the biggest grievance of the people of Sindh. The decision to shelve this project was against the interests of all Pakistanis, not only of the people of Sindh alone. In short, Wapda nurtures a grudge against the Sindhis and does not want the centre of gravity to be shifted from Punjab to any other province.

By: Mustafa Nazir Ahmad

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The Reformist

Ziauddin Sardar, 57, is one of the leading contemporary Muslim intellectuals. He specialises in topics dealing with the future of Islam, as well as Islamic science and technology, and has published more than 40 books on related topics. What sets him apart from the rest is his command over the language, which he uses to such a good effect that he could be read as a fiction writer on the merit of his diction alone. For example, in his most widely-read book, entitled Desperately Seeking Paradise: Journeys of a Sceptical Muslim, he calls Islamabad “an architectural eyesore”.
Sardar has an amazing ability to simplify some of the most complex debates on contemporary Islam. To a cursory reader, he might seem to be stuck amid ‘secularism’ and ‘fundamentalism’, but he is not; he just takes the followers of both to task for their various ideological misgivings. It is for this reason that while he unleashed a scathing criticism on Salman Rushdie after the publication of The Satanic Verses, he also opposed the Iranian fatwa against him.
Sardar’s basic contention is that each generation must “reinterpret the textual sources in the light of its own experience”. Though identifying himself as a moderate, he embraces a willingness to look at the scripture as a product of its time that must be periodically re-examined, lest it lose its relevance for those who love it. This is perhaps the greatest achievement of Sardar, who lives in London with his wife and three children, as both a writer and an intellectual. Excerpts of his recent interview with Mustafa Nazir follow:

Mustafa Nazir Ahmed: Do you agree that many of the problems Muslims are currently faced with have to do with the way Islam is interpreted?
Ziauddin Sardar: We can only have an interpretative relationship with a text, particularly when we regard that text to be eternal. We have been relying on age-old interpretation of the Quran, one that is frozen in history. The context of this interpretation is the context of the eighth and ninth century Muslim societies, when the great commentaries on the Quran were written and Islamic law was formulated. But if the interpretative context of the text is never our context, not our own time, then its interpretation can hardly have any real meaning or significance for us as we are now. Historic interpretations constantly drag us back to history, to frozen and ossified context of long ago; worse, to perceived and romanticised contexts that have not even existed in history. This is why while Muslims have a strong emotional attachment to Islam, Islam per se, as a worldview and system of ethics, has little or no direct relevance to their daily lives apart from the obvious concerns of rituals and worship. So, yes, I do think most of our problems, the problems faced by Muslim communities today, stem from the way Islam is interpreted.
MNA: Is there a fixed essence of Islam? If either case, can you please elaborate?
ZS: Yes and no. There are certain absolute values and conceptual categories such as tawheed, risalah, akhrah, adl that we find in the Quran but beyond that everything else is open to interpretation. The contours of Islam are well established; but what lies within these contours has to be discovered by generations to generations, epoch to epoch. There is a unity within a diversity of interpretations; and no one can claim that their interpretation is more correct than equally valid other interpretations.
One of the worst aspects of contemporary Muslim societies is the essentialising tendencies of some Muslims, the insistence of some people that they know the essence of true Islam and that their interpretation is the only true and correct one and everyone must submit to their interpretation. This is like saying that there is only one way to be a Muslim; all other way of being a Muslim are not only wrong but should be subjugated. This is a totalitarian tendency that can only lead to a totalitarian society. But this outlook is not entirely new to Islam. It has a long history going right back to the formative phase of Islam in the seventh century. It began with the Kharjites who emerged a few decades after the death of the Prophet Muhammad.
The Kharjites were a puritan sect who believed that history had come to an end after the revelation to the Last Prophet. From now on, there could not be any debate or compromise on any question: the ‘decision is God’s alone’. They were prone to extremist proclamations, they denounced Hazrat Ali as well as Hazrat Usman, and pronounced everyone who did not agree with their point of view as infidel and outside the law. They also developed a rather narrow and fixed interpretation of what it means to be a Muslim. To be a Muslim, they argued, is to be in a perfect state of soul. Someone in that state cannot commit a sin and engage in any wrongdoing. Sin, therefore was a contradiction for a true Muslim – it nullified the believer and demonstrated that inwardly he was an apostate who had turned against Islam. Thus anyone who did any wrong from the particular perspective of the Kharjites was not really a Muslim. He could thus be put to death. Indeed, the Kharjites believed that all non-Kharjite Muslims were really apostates who were legitimate target for violence. Al-Qaeda, the Taliban and other extremist groups are the direct contemporary equivalent of the Kharjites in our time.
There are three aspects of the neo-Kharjite thought that we need to appreciate. First, this tradition is ahistoric. It abhors history; and drains it of all humanity and human content. Islam as a religion, interpreted in the lives and thought of people called Muslims, is not something that unfolded in history with all its human strengths and weaknesses, but a utopia that exists outside time. Hence it has no notion of progress, moral development or human evolution. Second, this tradition is monolithic. It does not recognise, understand or appreciate a contrary view. Those who express an alternative opinion are seen as apostates, collaborators or worse. It also means that there is only one Islam: other interpretations that differ from the neo-Kharjite variety are outlawed. The plurality and diversity of Islam that has existed for the last 1500 years is expunged. Third, this tradition is aggressively self-righteous; and insists on imposing its notion of righteousness on others. It legitimises intolerance and violence by endlessly misquoting the Quran and Hadith. It sees other Muslims as a legitimate fodder for violence and terrorism.
MNA: Is there a need to reform the Shariah? Moreover, is it possible considering that there are so many sects and schools of thought within Islam?
ZS: Most Muslims consider the Shariah to be divine. But the only thing that can legitimately be described as divine in Islam is the Quran. The Shariah is a human construction; an attempt to understand the divine will in a particular context. It is juristic law based on the interpretation of the teachings of the Quran and Sunnah at a particular time in history. It was formulated during the Abbassid period and reflects the concerns, the morality and the social circumstances of the period. This is why the bulk of the Shariah actually consists of fiqh or jurisprudence, which is nothing more than legal opinion of classical jurists. The very term fiqh was not in vogue before the Abbasid period but when fiqh assumed its systematic legal form, it incorporated three vital aspects of Muslim society of the Abbasid period.
At that juncture, Muslim history was in its expansionist phase, and fiqh incorporated the logic of Muslim imperialism of that time. The fiqh rulings on apostasy, for example, derive not from the Quran but from this logic. Moreover, the world was simple and could easily be divided in black and white: hence, the division of the world into Daral Islam and Daral Harb. Furthermore, because the framers of law were not by this stage the managers of society, the law became merely theory that could not be modified – the framers of the law were unable to see where the faults lay and what aspect of the law needed fresh thinking and reformulation. Thus fiqh, as we know it today, evolved on the basis of a division between those who were governing and set themselves apart from society and those who were framing the law. When we describe the Shariah as divine, we actually provide divine sanctions for the rulings of bygone fiqh.
What this means in reality is that when Muslim countries apply or impose the Shariah, it simply reproduces the conditions of ninth century Arabia. Muslim societies acquire a medieval feel. We can see that in Saudi Arabia, Sudan and Afghanistan under the Taliban. When narrow adherence to fiqh, to the dictates of this or that school of thought, whether it has any relevance to real world or not, becomes the norm, ossification sets in. The Shariah will solve all our problems becomes the common sentiment; and it becomes necessary for a group with vested interest in this notion of the Shariah to preserve its territory, the source of its power and prestige, at all costs. An outmoded body of law is thus equated with the Shariah, and criticism is shunned and outlawed by appealing to its divine nature.
I would argue that one of the most pressing needs of contemporary Muslim societies, bar none, is the reformulation of the Shariah. And this reformulation is already happening. In Morocco, for example, the personal aspects of the Shariah has been totally reformulated, and a new family law, called Moudouana, came onto the statue books on October 10, 2003. It is a product of decades of agitation by women, activists and progressive Muslim scholars. Most importantly, it was produced with the full cooperation of the religious scholars as well as active participation of women. The changes it introduced are noteworthy.
The traditional notion of the husband as head of the family has gone. The family has become the joint responsibility of both spouses. The degrading and debasing language previously used in reference to women has been replaced with gender-sensitive terminology. Women’s marriageable age has been raised from 15 to 18, bringing it on par with that of men. Women and men now have the right to contract their own marriage without the legal approval of a guardian. Women have the right to divorce; and a man’s right to unilateral divorce has been ditched. Verbal divorce has been outlawed. Men now require prior authorisation from a court before they can obtain a divorce. Moreover, husbands are required to pay all monies owed to the wife and children in full before a divorce can be registered. Polygamy has been all but abolished. Men can take second wives only with the full consent of the first wife and only if they can prove, in a court of law, that they can treat them both with absolute justice – an impossible condition.
Moreover, women can claim alimony and can be granted custody of their children even if they remarry. Indeed, a woman can even regain custody of her children if the courts initially ruled in favour of the husband but the husband failed to fulfil his responsibilities. There is also provision for the child to get suitable accommodation consistent with his or her living conditions prior to the parents’ divorce. This requirement is separate from the other alimony obligations, which conventionally consisted of a paltry lump sum. The new law also protects the child’s right to acknowledgement of paternity in cases where the marriage has not been officially registered or the child was born outside wedlock. The new law also requires that husbands and wives share the property acquired during marriage. Husbands and wives can have separate estates but the law makes it possible for the couple to agree, in a document other than the marriage contract, on how to manage and develop assets acquired during marriage.
The traditional tribal custom of favouring male heirs in the sharing of inherited land has also been dropped making it possible for grandchildren on the daughter’s side to inherit from their grandfather, just as the grandchildren on the son’s side. The new Shariah also assigns a key role to the judiciary. Public prosecutors must now be involved in every legal action involving family affairs. New family courts have been set up and a family mutual assistance fund has been established to ensure that the new code is effectively enforced. The reformulated Shariah enshrines the principle that minorities should be allowed to follow their own laws. So Moroccan Jews can be governed by the provisions of the Hebraic Moroccan Family Law. Where Morocco leads, I think, other Muslim countries will follow. Similar attempts are being made in Malaysia, Indonesia and Turkey.
MNA: You are against secularism and freedom of expression beyond a certain extent. Isn’t it a contradiction considering that you have yourself been the major beneficiary?
ZS: It is wrong to say that I am against freedom of expression. Indeed, as a Muslim I believe in total freedom of expression. But I do believe it should be exercised with responsibility and respect towards all others. Moreover, I am not against secularism – I believe that the state should be fair and just to all and neutral in matters of religion. But I am against secularism as an ideology – quite a different thing. As an organised philosophy, secularism has been privileged and has claimed the centre ground, because it has persuaded many of its superior ability to serve the real needs of society. Allegedly, it is the neutral, dispassionate and disinterested outlook which alone is capable of maintaining a peaceful conversation between all the competing voices, factions, interest groups, ideas and ideologies contending in the public space of an increasingly complex and heterogeneous society.
What fits secularism for a dominant role is its trademark: doubt, perpetual doubt that debunks, overturns and interrogates all grand narratives claiming to explain the human condition. The clear implication of secularism is that conviction, convincement of almost any kind, is the product of a closed, unreasoning and potentially irrational, not to say fanatical, mind and hence by implication bad and most certainly a limited and inferior outlook. I do not buy this. And I am against privileging all forms of ideologies. I also believe that religion has an important part to play in the public sphere – in shaping civic society, in debating issues of ethics and morality, in promoting social justice and in holding corrupt politicians and decision-makers accountable.
MNA: In your view, what could be the broad contours of an ideal Muslim society in the modern times?
ZS: Any society that claims to be Muslim must be based on two cardinal concepts of Islam: adl and ilm. It will be a society where social justice is clearly evident in all its manifestations from distribution of wealth to the care and support of the needy, the marginalised and those on the periphery. I will be a knowledge-based society where science and learning, arts and creativity, are openly thriving. It will also be a society where ijma (consensus) and shura (consultation) are highly valued – which to me means it would be a thriving democracy, where there is no place for authoritarianism of any kind. And it will be a society where criticism and self-criticism are the driving forces of progress. For me, this much seems pretty obvious.
MNA: How can Muslims contribute to peace in the modern day world?
ZS: Charity begins at home. By becoming peaceful societies themselves! How can we seek peace elsewhere when peace is so conspicuously absent from our own societies. To become peaceful, Muslim societies have to implement the concepts I have mentioned above.
MNA: Contrary to what you seem to believe and project in your writings, isn’t Sufism the only ray of hope in these dark times, especially if we take into account the Indian subcontinent’s history?
ZS: No. I do not believe that a single way of being Muslim can be a ray of light for all Muslims. As a human community, Muslims have all shades of opinions and views, numerous different ways of being, doing and knowing. I believe in diversity and different and diverse ways of being Muslim, according to the desires, visions and spiritual and material needs of a people. There is immense goodness in Sufism; but it is also an authoritarian system. The very fact that you submit to a Master or a Shaikh means it is hierarchal and patriarchal. Moreover, while mysticism has contributed to thought, philosophy and spirituality, it has never, in history, created a material civilisation. We can’t live by spirituality alone! I have no problem with those who chose the Sufi way. But others should be allowed to follow their own way.
MNA: Is The Satanic Verses really an outcome of secularism as you seem to believe? Salman Rushdie criticises the Iranian ‘revolution’ in his own style, while you do that in your own, especially in Desperately Seeking Paradise: Journeys of a Sceptical Muslim. Then why such an opposition to Rushdie, especially if we take into account the fact that there are many books criticising Islam much more explicitly, ranging from Ibn Warraq’s Why I am not a Muslim to Robert Spencer’s Politically Incorrect Guide to Islam?
ZS: Yes, The Satanic Verses is a product of secularism based on perpetual doubt. I think doubt, as Al-Ghazaali pointed out, is essential for those who believe – it ensures you do not transcend the human and humane boundaries. But when doubt becomes all there is, then it becomes an oppressive, all-encompassing ideology. There are different ways to criticise. I criticise to reform and change Muslim behaviour and understanding of Islam. Rushdie criticises Islam to destroy it. The Satanic Verses has deliberately rewritten the seerah in a denigrating and abusive way to demonstrate that the life of the Prophet is only a myth; and like all myths it is dispensable. I cannot believe any believing Muslim would not object to this. But there are also other differences in our criticism. You can criticise Desperately Seeking Paradise any way you like: I may or may not accept your criticism, but I will not suggest that, because you are critical of my book, you are somehow an irrational barbarian.
The Rushdie affair had no place for reasoned Muslim opinion. It was structured on the assumption that those who question or criticise Rushdie’s right to say what he said are by definition barbarians. Thus, the only valid Muslim opinion was the extremist one; and only Muslim voices that could be heard were of those who supported the fatwa. This dynamic justified the perception that Islam represented, in Rushdie’s words, “the darkness of religion”. To add insult to injury, we were told that Muslims knew nothing about art, and even less about fiction. Ibn Warraq and Robert Spencer are islamophobes – their criticism is firmly aimed at representing it as a barbarian enterprise and promoting hatred of Muslims. They, like Rushdie, have another agenda: to promote the supremacy of America. They seek to project America as a loving and caring imperial power. There is a world of difference between them and me.

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