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VIEW: A world spiralling out of control —Navid Shahzad

Curriculum planners and syllabi implementers need to re-examine the objectives prescribed for the study of Islam at the undergraduate level. Rather than adding details to already studied material at the higher secondary level, a comparative study of religions particularly those in the Abrahamic traditions would enrich the subject

The recent earthquake and the devastation it has caused have had one tied up in agonised knots. The sleepless nights that have plagued one as a result have had one sit up well into early mornings dappled with dew and serenaded by the early bird. As the dark slips away to the call of the muezzin and the faint light begins to dye the earth in myriad colours, one has the time to sit and reflect on the fact that Allah and his blessings have never been more generous than at present.

It is difficult to imagine a time when religion (or its rites) were not an integral part of father’s household. The children’s morning dreams were accompanied by the faint sound of tilawat ensuing from the master’s bedroom and the soft pad of mother’s slippers as she rose for ablution. Bed was a comfort that we gave up unwillingly except during Ramadan when the (virtually) nocturnal eating became surprisingly picnic-like.

With the pyjama-clad children draped like so many soft pillows on the dining chairs, the table would be set groaning with parathas, home-made dahi and delectables specially created by Chottay Mian, lord of the kitchen and coal store. Maulvi Sahib would arrive promptly at four in the afternoon to ruin a perfect game of cricket and father would insist on listening in to establish the accuracy of pronunciation as we read through the Book.

It was a household that insisted on practice more than on the ritual. Lying was punishable by stony silences which had a far greater effect than any punitive measures would have had, and while one could be permitted (albeit reluctantly) to skip a prayer, there was no absolution from the greater sins of being unkind or deliberately thoughtless. As the children grew older and the 1960s hit their world with Woodstock, flower power and Nawab Kalabagh in the gubernatorial seat, things changed forever.

Politics coloured everything. From religion to student life, the hydra dyed itself in hues of self-interest ranging from self-proclaimed guardians of the faith to gaining access to echelons of power within institutions. More than anything else, the 1960s associate themselves with the rise of student politics, both in the West and the East. Berkeley and Lahore, strange bedfellows as they were, fired the imagination in a call for individualism, the right of discourse and an unequivocal antiestablishment frame of mind.

The ultimate impact of those early stirrings of faith combined with politics will take a long time to assess. For the moment, however, we are confronted with the sad reality of seeing the politico-religious parameters metamorphosing into directions that are destructive rather than constructive, divisive rather than unifying.

As an initial knee jerk reaction to the pulpit’s demand for a return to the faith, the government declared Friday a holiday, banned races and introduced an Islamic Studies component at school and university level. The concession to the religious lobby came as a shock to a generation who had kept religion out of the classroom and confined to the privacy of the home. At the mercy of half literate clerics coming in out of the cold, school children returned home in fearful confusion. My chubby four-year-old came home in tears questioning his ability to cross pul sarat weighing as much as he did. Rote learning encouraged in the cleric’s home ground only made matters worse with children forced into translations without the support of linguistic ability.

On a deep level, I am aware of the integral relationship between religion and politics — the knot has not unravelled since my own childhood but the edges are becoming increasingly tangled around my ankles. I hold the frayed edges up for inspection when I read through the outline of the mandatory Islamic Studies subject only to realise that one should have said something earlier. The world as we know it today has changed radically since the demise of the 20th Century. The parameters and categories I referred to when I needed to find my bearings have all been challenged by a world spiralling out of control.

For me, religion has and always will be a personal matter. I need no intermediary between myself and an omniscient Presence. Curriculum planners and syllabi implementers need to re-examine the objectives prescribed for the study of Islam at the undergraduate level. Rather than adding details to already studied material at the higher secondary level, a comparative study of religions particularly those in the Abrahamic traditions would enrich the subject through references to anthropology, history, psychology and sociology.

For me, far more than prescribed texts, it is critical to understand what makes religion different from other human activities and how it may best be studied, particularly by young people trapped within an increasingly polarised world.

The writer is Dean of the School of Liberal Arts at the Beaconhouse National University, Lahore. Her email address is navidshahzad@hotmail.com

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