Defining Quaid’s legacy

The one that we distort to fit on everything

Mahathir Mohammad is not a Dalai Lama in Malaysia. Hindus and Chinese do have, and justifiably, serious reservations against his prolonged rule and current policies of his party. It is likely that Mahathir’s party might see a devastating upset in the forthcoming elections, something unheard of a decade ago. One thing is certain: Malaysians know truly well what Mahathir Mohammad stood for, unlike Quaid-e-Azam in Pakistan. We have a leader who seems to be one of the few absolutes in the universe. Incidentally, Jinnah of Pakistan is a leader of everyone across the spectrum: liberals and mullahs alike, and of moderates too. These qualifiers, we all know too well, are poorly defined. I do not intend to draw comparisons between the two leaders. Both triumphed in different time periods, each faced unique challenges and had different destinies. It is the attitude towards their legacies I wish to focus on.

If you have ruled for over twenty two years and still carry enough weight to influence politics, it is impossible not to be controversial. Mahathir Mohammad is one such figure. Hang on, is he controversial? We don’t know that in Pakistan. He has always been portrayed as this exemplary leader who spearheaded the Malaysian growth. A role model for Pakistan. But there is always more to it, right? His children now represent the very class he stood up against, for his people. Chinese Malaysians would tell you, Mahathir’s policies were heavily biased in favour of Malaya Muslims. I suppose no one denies that they were the most impoverished of ethnicities. Perhaps, in principle, his policies could be justified. However, in spite of his affirmative policies, Malaysia remains backward. Hindus in Malaysia do not have the government or the generous Chinese tycoons to look out for them; so they are not well off either. Hence, there is this criticism.

In spite of all his inconsistencies, why was Mahathir portrayed in a flattering light in Pakistan, bracketed along with Mandela among the great contemporary leaders? One, he was the saviour of Muslim Malaya. We tend to bend over backwards for our Muslim brethren in countries we can’t locate on maps, while we lynch some of those out of favour in our own backyard. Then again, it is our internal affair and we are (read) sovereigns. Two, his story sits in nicely with the official narrative of Pakistan fed to an ordinary Pakistani. Please let us not trouble ourselves with the debate anymore: whether it was a country for Muslims or a country created in the name of Islam. I don’t see the distinction anyway and nor did an average person in 1947 that rallied behind sloganeering: Pakistan ka matlab kia, la ilaha ilal la. Someone, anyone, anywhere, who styles himself as a Muslim champion, becomes our Lama in Pakistan.

Most of the problems we face today have no relation with Quaid’s vision of Pakistan. Their solution does not lie in his popular speeches quoted invariably out of context in columns and talk shows. Though we still site Eid moons from matkas — we know why it is wrong; must we keep on looking at our present through the lens of 1947? The only difference between the Malaysians and the people of Pakistan is that they know what Mahathir’s legacy is, while some of them try and disassociate from it. On the other hand, we still sketch our leader’s legacy and often like the devil itself, we create one on policy matters when it is necessary.

We refer to the speeches of the Quaid-e-Azam more than we refer to Hadith. His speeches practically envelope everything under the sun: today’s foreign policy, terrorism and terrorism post-9/11, identity conundrum of our age, secularism and model Islamic state at the same time, to name a few. We go so far in tracing his legacy, often or mostly from his popular speeches, we distort the very legacy we wish to elucidate. An ordinary citizen today does not really know what our Quaid stood for, and what he didn’t.

No one disputes the greatness of the Quaid-e-Azam. However, we do need to move on from what was his or his vision of Pakistan. One, we have sufficiently soiled. Our policymakers and intellectuals today must engage on a discourse of a revived vision which is more in line with today’s world and the issues thereof. Our discourse can also develop a long-hoped-for consensus on the Quaid’s legacy and may peter away some of the distortions. It is important, therefore, to engage.

We may not be schizophrenic or bipolar but something about our attitude does remind me of an old joke. A woman comes across a man crawling under a street lamp. “I’ve lost my car keys,” he explains. The woman tries to help him find his keys. After a few minutes of searching, she asks, “Where exactly did you drop them?” “Down the street, next to my car,” says the man and gestures towards his idle car in the dark. Puzzled, she queries, “Then why aren’t you looking over there?” The man replies, “The light is better here.”

The writer is an academic