<http://www.nytimes.com/2007/04/15/magazine/15wwlnQ4.t.html> April 15, 2007 Questions for Mohsin Hamid The Stranger Interview By DEBORAH SOLOMON
Q: Your new novel, "The Reluctant Fundamentalist," ascended to No. 1 on the Barnes & Noble best-seller list virtually the moment it was published in this country. What do you make of that?
[A] Now perhaps I can quit my job. Three days a week, I do some consulting for a little branding firm in London.
[Q] Is it fair to describe your second novel as a Muslim's critique of American values?
[A] That's oversimplifying. The novel is a love song to America as much as it is a critique.
[Q] I didn't find it so loving. It takes place on a single evening at a cafe in Lahore, as a charming, well-educated Pakistani in his 20s recounts his life story to an unnamed American stranger, who seems suspicious of him.
[A] The American is acting as if the Pakistani man is a Muslim fundamentalist because of how he looks — he has a beard.
[Q] And the Pakistani man also brings certain fears and preconceptions to their conversation. In an act of reverse ethnic profiling, he suspects the American is an undercover agent who might arrest him.
[A] Yes. But he could be just as freaked out as the rest of us are in this world when we see an American with that kind of build and imagine he is a C.I.A. agent. The novel is not supposed to have a correct answer. It's a mirror. It really is just a conversation, and different people will read it in different ways.
[Q] Like your novel, this interview is a conversation between an American listener and a Pakistani man with a beard. Are we also doomed to misunderstanding? Do you think I'm a C.I.A. agent?
[A] If you had short hair and a bulge in your jacket, I might assume you were.
[Q] Do you think I am mistaking you for a fundamentalist?
[A] I don't know. But you are doing me the honor of trying to understand me.
[Q] I don't know if I trust you.
[A] Put that into the piece!
[Q] It was unsettling to learn that your protagonist felt a rush of genuine pleasure when the World Trade towers were attacked.
[A] Some part of him has a desire to see America harmed. In much of the world, there is resentment toward America, and the notion that the superpower could be humiliated or humbled or damaged in this way is something that gives satisfaction.
[Q] Is that how you felt when the towers were attacked?
[A] No. I was devastated. A wall had suddenly come up between my American and Muslim worlds. The novel is my attempt to reconnect those divided worlds.
[Q] Much like the narrator of your book, you grew up in Pakistan and were educated at Princeton.
[A] I was one of two or three Pakistanis in the class of '93, and I didn't feel homesick for a second. I took two writing workshops with Joyce Carol Oates, and I wrote the first draft of my first novel in a long-fiction workshop with Toni Morrison, both of whom encouraged me.
[Q] Nonetheless, you went off to law school. What were you thinking?
[A] I went to Harvard Law School and decided I didn't want to be a lawyer. It bored the pants off of me.
[Q] Your novel suggests you have read a lot of Camus, particularly "The Fall," whose protagonist, not unlike yours, pours out his story to a stranger in one long philosophical rant.
[A] Yes, Camus taught me how to have a conversation that implicates the reader.
[Q] In your novel, the Pakistani man is the sole speaker. Why did you choose to silence the American?
[A] For me, in the world of media, particularly the American media, it's almost always the other way around.
[Q] But no one is silencing you. To the contrary, you're scheduled to visit Miami and Cambridge and Washington this week to promote a novel of which there are already more than 100,000 copies out there.
[A] But there are not many of us from the Muslim world who are getting heard over here. And the ones who are mostly seem to be speaking in grainy videos from caves.
<http://www.dailytimes.com.pk/default.asp?page=2007%5C03%5C28%5Cstory_28-3-2007_pg3_3> VIEW: Musharraf can't rule forever —MOHSIN HAMID Wednesday, March 28, 2007
General Musharraf must recognise that his popularity is dwindling fast and that the need to move toward greater democracy is overwhelming. The idea that a president in an army uniform will be acceptable to Pakistanis after this year's elections is becoming more and more implausible
I was one of the few Pakistanis who actually voted for General Pervez Musharraf in the rigged referendum of 2002. I recall walking into a polling station in Islamabad and not seeing any other voter. When I took the time required to read the convoluted ballot, I was accosted by a man who had the overbearing attitude of a soldier although he was in civilian clothes. He insisted that I hurry, which I refused to do. He then hovered close by, watching my every action, in complete defiance of electoral rules.
Despite this intimidation, I still voted in favour of the proposition that General Musharraf, who had seized power in a coup in 1999, should continue as Pakistan's president for five more years. I believed his rule had brought us much-needed stability, respite from the venal and self-serving elected politicians who had misgoverned Pakistan in the 1990s, and a more free and vibrant press than at any time in the country's history.
The outcome of the referendum — 98 percent support for General Musharraf from an astonishing 50 percent turnout — was so obviously false that even he felt compelled to disown the exercise.
Rigged elections rankle, of course. But since then, secular, liberal Pakistanis like myself have seen many benefits from General Musharraf's rule. My wife was an actress in "Jutt and Bond," a popular Pakistani sitcom about a Punjabi folk hero and a debonair British agent. Her show was on one of the many private television channels that have been permitted to operate in the country, featuring everything from local rock music to a talk show whose host is a transvestite.
My sister, a journalism lecturer in Lahore, loves to tell me about the enormous growth in recent years in university financing, academic salaries and undergraduate enrolment. And my father, now retired but for much of his career a professor of economics, says he has never seen such a dynamic and exciting time in Pakistani higher education.
But there have been significant problems under General Musharraf, too. Pakistan has grown increasingly divided between the relatively urban and prosperous regions that border India and the relatively rural, conservative and violent regions that border Afghanistan. The two mainstream political parties have historically bridged that divide and vastly outperformed religious extremists in free elections, but under General Musharraf they have been marginalised in a system that looks to one man for leadership.
What many of us hoped was that General Musharraf would build up the country's neglected institutions before eventually handing over power to a democratically elected successor. Those hopes were dealt a serious blow two weeks ago, when he suspended the chief justice of Pakistan, Iftikhar Mohammad Chaudhry.
For General Musharraf, Justice Chaudhry had become a major irritant. He had opened investigations into government "disappearances" of suspects in the war on terrorism. He had blocked the showcase privatisation of the national steel mill. He had, in other words, demonstrated that he would not do General Musharraf's bidding. With elections due later this year, and challenges to irregularities like the rigging that took place in 2002 likely to end up in the Supreme Court, an independent chief justice could jeopardise General Musharraf's continued rule.
Like many Pakistanis, I knew little about Justice Chaudhry except that he had a reputation for being honest, and that under his leadership, the Supreme Court had reduced its case backlog by 60 percent. His suspension seemed a throwback to the worst excesses of the government that General Musharraf's coup had replaced, and it galvanised protests by the nation's lawyers and opposition parties, including rallies of thousands in several of Pakistan's major cities yesterday.
More troubling still was the phone call I received recently from a friend who works for Geo, one of Pakistan's leading independent television channels. The government had placed enormous pressure on Geo to stop showing the demonstrations in support of Justice Chaudhry, and the channel had refused to comply. When my friend told me that policemen had broken into Geo's offices, smashed its equipment and beaten up the staff, I felt utterly betrayed by the man I had voted for.
Despite his subsequent apology for the incident, General Musharraf now appears to be more concerned with perpetuating his rule than with furthering the cause of "enlightened moderation" that he had claimed to champion. He has never been particularly popular, but he is now estranging the liberals who previously supported his progressive ends if not his autocratic means. People like me are realising that the short-term gains from even a well-intentioned dictator's policies can be easily reversed.
General Musharraf must recognise that his popularity is dwindling fast and that the need to move toward greater democracy is overwhelming. The idea that a president in an army uniform will be acceptable to Pakistanis after this year's elections is becoming more and more implausible.
The United States has provided enormous financial and political support to General Musharraf's government, but it has focused on his short-term performance in the war on terror. America must now take a long-term view and press General Musharraf to reverse his suspension of the chief justice and of Pakistan's press freedoms. He should be encouraged to see that he cannot cling to power forever.
Pakistan is both more complicated and less dangerous than America has been led to believe. General Musharraf has portrayed himself as America's last line of defence in an angry and dangerous land. In reality, the vast majority of Pakistanis want nothing to do with violence. When thousands of cricket fans from our archenemy, India, wandered about Pakistan unprotected for days in 2004, not one was abducted or killed. At my own wedding two years ago, a dozen Americans came, disregarding State Department warnings. They, too, spent their time in Pakistan without incident.
Yes, there are militants in Pakistan. But they are a small minority in a country with a population of 165 million. Religious extremists have never done well in elections when the mainstream parties have been allowed to compete fairly. Nor does the Pakistan Army appear to be in any great danger of falling into radical hands: by all accounts the commanders below General Musharraf broadly agree with his policies.
An exaggerated fear of Pakistan's people must not prevent America from realising that Pakistanis are turning away from General Musharraf. By prolonging his rule, the general risks taking Pakistan backward and undermining much of the considerable good that he has been able to achieve. The time has come for him to begin thinking of a transition, and for Americans to realise that, scare stories notwithstanding, a more democratic Pakistan might be better not just for Pakistanis but for Americans as well.
Mohsin Hamid is the author of "Moth Smoke" and the forthcoming novel "The Reluctant Fundamentalist". This article was originally written for the New York Times.
<http://www.tehelka.com/story_main18.asp?filename=Ne081206interviewp29.asp> INTERVIEW 'India is much more jingoistic than Pakistan'
It can be a shock to see how others view you. In a disturbing, eye-opening chat, novelist Mohsin Hamid tells Shoma Chaudhury how Pakistanis see India
[Q] What's your personal map of Pakistan?
[A] Similar to what makes up anyone's map. The city one lives in, friends, attachment to things like sounds, food, sights... A sense of belonging and emotional investment in the place — those are the things that link me to Pakistan.
[Q] Does its conception of itself as an Islamic state bother you?
[A] I'm not sure what you mean. Pakistan is a very diverse country. I'm not sure how much it does define itself as a religious state. Official speak might seem to say it is a religious state, but for me that's just one facet of the place.
[Q] What idea of India do you and people from your world hold?
[A] Well, it's mixed. Certainly, there are a lot of positive things. We all have Indian friends; people who've married across the border, who travel across borders. There are television shows, films, music we all like. At the same time, there's a fairly pervasive feeling that India is a rather arrogant, uncompromising neighbour. There's also a sense that India is a country that is a lot about hype. All this talk of India Shining and what not — a lot of mainstream Indian media will portray India as this flourishing super power doing wonderfully well, when the truth is most Indians are desperately poor. Pakistanis seem to be much less jingoistic and nationalistic about themselves. I think as a smaller and more cynical country, Pakistanis find this nationalistic aspect of India pretty off-putting.
[Q] What would the self-criticisms of your generation of Pakistanis be?
[A] There are many. We've failed to evolve a lasting democratic set-up. Failed to find a peaceful resolution with India, failed to educate a majority of our people.
[Q] Are there versions of Pakistan that make you blanch?
[A] Your question is more interesting than the answer. Let me turn this around. How would you respond to a Pakistani periodical calling you up and saying, what are things about your country that make you blanch? It's like a neighbour you don't have nice relations with saying, what about your mother don't you like? Certainly, there are things about Pakistan I don't like, but to make that a topic of enquiry is problematic. Just look at headlines related to Pakistan in the mainstream Indian press and you'll find a very jingoistic, distorted view of Pakistan. Even in Tehelka, which might be a very liberal paper otherwise, the tone is very hawkish. As a Pakistani, I find Indian media prone to exaggerating the threat posed by Pakistan, and the differences between the two countries, as opposed to highlighting similarities. In some ways, I think the biggest threat Pakistan poses to India is the threat to the Indian ego, as opposed to anything more substantive. So in that context, this is a very odd question. With that caveat in place, I'd say, I have enormous love for Pakistan, though I'm frequently frustrated by it.
[Q] The media war is equal. Here the focus is on the ISI, Dawood Ibrahim, terror camps. After the recent blasts ...
[A] I find it all very amusing, I have to say. Let me give you a simple example. Why in the 30-day Congressional notification period for the sale of F 16s to Pakistan — pending for almost two decades — why in this 30-day period would Pakistan choose to bomb India, when that can only look bad for Pakistan? It's the one time in our history when we are most likely to be restrained; we want the deal to go through.
[Q] It's not just about this blast. The talk is of jehadi groups within Pakistan —
[A] I think India is terrified of looking inside itself because if a homegrown Indian Muslim group has done this in Bombay, you'd have massacres. India is a tinderbox so it's forced to look outside. Who's backing the Naxalites? People out of Nepal? Who's backing the Muslim groups? Pakistan and Bangladesh? There are a billion Indians, many of whom are very upset with the government and could certainly be involved. In Pakistan, we have sectarian bombings all the time. Certainly one could say these are the work of Indian intelligence agencies. Perhaps they are. But I think it's a mistake to look at these problems in this way and ignore what is often a very strong domestic component. I think Pakistan is right now desperate for a peace deal on Kashmir. Musharraf — like him or not — is bending over to find some compromise. But India is completely uncompromising. It prefers the status quo so any time there's a bomb in India, it can be blamed on Pakistan.
[Q] Indians would throw Kargil and terror camps and infiltration at you…
[A] They would, but Kargil was at one time. At one time Musharraf wanted to have this tactical invasion of India. Now he doesn't. People change. I think the Kargil war is really more an issue of Indian ego — which I think is a very fragile thing and the biggest barrier to normalising relations with Pakistan.
[Q] If the Indian press demonises Pakistan, isn't it the same in the Pakistani press?
[A] Absolutely, particularly in the Urdu language press. But, you know, I think the demonisation of Pakistan in India is more than here because Pakistan has no substantial Hindu community. So the average Pakistani deals with India only as a concept. There is not much entrenched actual bigotry. India, on the other hand, has over 100 million Muslims. This is a very real issue, sometimes a very real problem for many Indians. Pakistan gets lumped along with that, so the resentment towards it in India is much more.
[Q] How's Pakistan negotiated modernity?
[A] In remarkably complex ways. You have everything in Pakistan — mini zones of talibanisation, fashion shows with girls wearing next to nothing in Lahore, parties in Karachi where people are doing cocaine and Ecstasy, villages where people don't have education or electricity. It's a huge collage. The thing people often forget about Pakistan is that it's enormous. It's the sixth biggest country in the world. China, India, US, Indonesia, Brazil, then Pakistan. It's only when you compare it with something even more galactically vast like India that it seems anything but huge. So there's a huge diversity in the way people are dealing with modernity — from complete hedonistic embrace to religious reactionism. The result is a bit of a muddle.
[Q] Despite themselves, people across the globe are becoming wary of the dominant face of Islam.
[A] I don't think there is any homogeneous Islam. As a novelist, I negotiate these things by breaking them down to the personal. Even if some basic principles are the same, there are huge variations in outlook. And religion is only one facet of what makes us human. There are cultural identities, gender, race… For me, Islam is a word that includes an incredible multiplicity. The notion of a strong, politicised, unitary Islam which is either a threat or a transformative force is for me an artificial construct. Analogous to the movement trying to make Hinduism a monolithic identity. That said, within the world of Islam, certainly there are many who are deeply reactionary, who are moving towards some frightening utopia which for someone like me is terrifying. But I don't characterise those people as typical of Islam. Look at Pakistan, Islamic parties never get more than 10-15 percent of the vote. They are significant, but the vast majority would rather vote for schools, jobs, food than some utopia.
[Q] What do you think of Musharraf?
[A] I am deeply ambiguous. First, on the negative count, how can the political system he's building be sustainable? Second, there's his willingness to use force to settle disputes within Pakistan. Third, one just doesn't know what Pakistan foreign policy is! Are we really anti-Taliban and fully pushing for peace with India? It's unclear. There is no transparency. We seem broadly positive, but there's no way of knowing what the intelligence agencies or army or state actors are doing. On the positive side, there's been dramatic economic growth in Pakistan — almost as fast as India since 2001. There's freedom in the media, an explosion of TV channels, kids doing things I couldn't dream of. Lahore, Karachi — the cities have a new vibe. There also appears to be a relative desire to disengage from the affairs of our neighbours, and a relative check on the non-state violent actors within Pakistan. I'd put a question mark on that last one though. But the trouble is there are enough sycophants in the Pakistani government to warp your sense of how right you might be. That warping process which eventually leads to monomaniacal figures has begun with Musharraf. Yet, I also think he is also sincere, not corrupt, and trying to do the best he can.
Aug 12 , 2006 -- Yoshie