Source/Credit: Borderline Green
By Haroon Y. Khan | November 27th 2011
Welcome. I am one of the residents of this, the most unique graveyard of the world. And before we go any further, please accept my apologies. I would have extended you the traditional Muslim greeting, but that would be breaking the law. So let me compensate by saying Shalom instead, hopefully the Jews will be more tolerant than the laws of my beloved homeland.
Being here can be quite monotonous, as you would expect, so I tend to wander amongst the graves looking at the names of strangers, friends, young, old, men, women. I can sense your impatience in wondering what has that got to do with making this graveyard such a distinctive one. After all, death is truly impartial; it does not discriminate, among other things, on the basis of gender or age. But patience please, for the sake of an old man indulging in a bit of melodrama…
You see the uniqueness of this resting abode of ours derives from the faith of the permanent residents. Some of them were born and remained Muslims, some were Muslims but then became non Muslims, and some were born non Muslims despite the protestations of their parents.
I myself was a Muslim for the first forty eight years of my life, and what I became next is still a mystery to me. Pushed into a sort of religious void, I was no longer a Muslim. Now I can see you thoroughly perplexed, and for that I do not blame you…
It’s all very simple. In September 1974, Pakistan’s parliament approved legislation unique in the annals of modern parliamentary history. Article 260 now also declared all followers of the Ahmedi sect as non Muslims. The proceedings were held in camera, and still have been not made public after thirty seven years. No official account is available of the debate which took place.
Driven by political compulsions of a government appeasing the religious theocracy, this piece of law altered me overnight into something other than being a Muslim. I still remember the feeling of emptiness which encompassed my whole being – deepening the ache was the sense of betrayal by Bhutto, who had invoked such passionate admiration from all those who wished to see Pakistan prosper as a modern, compassionate state.
Even worse was what followed some years later during Zia’s despotic rule. Desperate to give some substance to his sham Islamization process he passed a number of ordinances which made it officially impossible for us to observe our faith, Muslim or not …
We were denied the right to publicly practice any religious rites associated with Muslims, defend or propagate any of our beliefs, and worse still, pose directly or indirectly as a Muslim. A mere Islamic greeting could land you in jail.
These days the only solace is in the memories which came flooding back. The sweet ones – my childhood in Jhang, the heady days of Pakistan movement, the academic research work, the launching of Pakistan’s space and nuclear programs, the setting up of the research institute at Trieste. And the sour ones – the denial of a visit to Government College during the centenary celebrations, the UNESCO bid fiasco where a General was nominated as Pakistan’s candidate instead of me, and the following historic defeat of this venture.
The Noble Prize was special in terms the recognition it granted my beloved homeland, rather than any personal laudation it brought. The ceremony was an emotional occasion. Initially I was nervous about the event, but then inspiration took over. I dressed in honor of my country. No scientist can observe the universe and not submit to the majesty of the Creator. My acceptance speech therefore revolved around beautiful verses from the holy Quran.
“Thou seest not, in the creation of the All-merciful any imperfection. Return thy gaze, seest thou any fissure? Then return thy gaze, again and again, and thy gaze, comes back to thee dazzled, aweary”
Every so often I visit the neighboring final resting places of some of Pakistan’s true heroes. They too sleep the deep sleep, awaiting the day when we will all be called to give an unbiased account of our deeds. Zafar Ullah Khan, that most accomplished of diplomats, who established Pakistan credentials on international front. He got the Kashmir resolution adopted by the UN general assembly, which remains to this day, Pakistan’s only hope of ever having this issue peacefully. His support for the Palestinians on the UN stage earned him everlasting gratitude of the Arab nation.
Then those gallant soldiers, among them the two brothers, the legendary Generals Akhtar Hussain Malik and Abdul Ali Malik. Akhtar had the enemy on the run on the Kashmir front, in 1965, when he was replaced. Abdul Ali was one of the key commanders in the historic battle of Chawinda. Men of men and men of steel!.
Akhtar died in 1969. Did he die a Muslim? Zafar and Abdul Ali died after 1974. Were they by then non Muslims? Vexing questions, these.
Thank you for being here, please do visit me again. My abode is pretty easy to find. You cannot miss it. It has a defaced tombstone – instead of being the first Muslim noble laureate for sciences, I am now simply the first noble laureate. Apparently the inclusion of the world Muslim hurt the religious sentiments of the district magistrate.
One has to be thankful for the small mercies. I am thankful that my name has been spared. I am still Abdus Salam on the tombstone. I remain worried, though, that I not be reduced to Abdus, as Salam is one of the glorified name of the most Exalted – the same problem of posing as a Muslim, you see.
Sometimes I view my final resting place not as a grave, but as a requiem to a dream. The dream of a homeland free of all bias and discrimination. On a great personal risk, ina lillah haey wa inha elahey rajioun ..
I bid you goodbye now. And relying on the Christian church’s tolerance this time around, Valē!
Read original post here: Once were Muslims
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