In its Nov 10 issue, under the heading ‘Maudoodi’s six points’ Dawn
carried a policy speech made half a century ago by the Jamaat-i-Islami’s
(JI) founder in Karachi’s Arambagh. The context needs to be grasped
.It was the early 1960s, with Field Marshal Ayub Khan reigning in full
glory. While all parties were non-functional, the JI alone was
relatively active.
Even though a new constitution had been promulgated on March 1, 1962,
by Field Marshal Ayub Khan, who also lifted martial law when the
indirectly elected assembly met on June 9, 1962, the country would
continue to remain in martial law’s penumbra till the end of his regime
in 1969.
Better days were still to come for the JI, for Ayub had an inept home
minister in Habibullah Khan. Unable to stand what by any standards was
modest criticism, the government banned the party in January 1964 and
Maudoodi was arrested. The JI went to court and — it goes to the credit
of Ayub Khan that he didn’t influence the judiciary — the Supreme Court
rescinded the ban. The JI came out stronger.
A perusal of the Maudoodi speech makes it clear that the later five
points were essentially in support of the first one — the establishment
of an Islamic state — and clearly spelled out not only party philosophy
but also the means for achieving that aim.
All the five points laid emphasis on following the democratic path
and unequivocally pleaded for civil liberties, minority rights and a
free press.
Maudoodi’s arrest in 1964 was for reasons that were frivolous, for
the government had accused him of being a foreign agent and indul-ging
in subversive activity.
However, less known perhaps to today’s generation was his arrest in
October 1948 when the Kashmir war was on, and even though the Pakistan
Army had not yet moved into Kashmir, Pakistani tribesmen had entered the
battle to save people in Jammu from extermination by the Maharaja’s
soldiers.
While the 1964 arrest was the handiwork of a dictatorial government,
his arrest in 1948 was ordered by Liaquat Ali Khan, Jinnah’s right-hand
man and Pakistan’s first prime minister, who was incensed by Maudoodi’s
opinion that the tribal invasion of Kashmir was not a jihad.
Maudoodi’s reasoning was that only a state can declare a jihad and no
individual or group has the right to wage a private jihad of its own.
He showed this consistency in other matters, for he declared
categorically in his writings that punishments for violating Islamic
hudood can only be carried out by an Islamic government. Read, for
instance, his interpretation of Ayat 33 of Surah Bani Israel (Tarjume
Quran-i-Majeed, ma’e mukhtasir havashi, page 731-33).
All along the Pakistani part of his political career, and despite his
bitter opposition to some governments, Maudoodi never advocated khurooj
(public uprising) for fear that it could lead to bloodshed whose
primary victims would be not the rulers but the people.
In this he was not breaking a new path but echoing the views of
leading imams and ulema of yore who — no matter how bitterly opposed to
the caliph or sultan of the day — refrained from making inflammatory
pronouncements and issuing fatwas that could arouse popular passions,
cause bloodshed and tear the social fabric apart.
Imam Abu Haneefa, for instance, lived in both Umayyad and Abbasid
times, and welcomed the latter when they overthrew the former. But as
time passed and the Abbasid rulers acquired the trappings of Persian
shahs, he lost all hope of a return to the caliphate in the real sense
of the term.
Jaafar bin Mansur, the second Abbasid caliph and builder of the
empire, tried to bribe and browbeat Abu Haneefa into becoming his qadiul
qadat (chief justice), and thus legitimise his rule, but he refused. He
considered Mansur despotic and monarchical and denounced his
persecution of Aliids.
But instead of calling for khurooj, Abu Haneefa approached individual
generals to persuade them not to obey Mansur in his war on the Aliids.
He was arrested and tortured, and though he died when he was out of
prison, many historians think he died from the long-term effects of the
torture.
Today, the JI’s policies deserve to be assessed against Maudoodi’s
road map to ‘Islamic revolution’. To wit, the JI leadership must dispel
the impression in some quarters that its policies have tended to lend
indirect support to militants who kill people on charges ranging from
theft, adultery and fahhashi to being spies of the ‘infidel’ Pakistani
state.
Would Maudoodi have kept quiet on the bombing of mosques and schools,
hospitals and funeral processions, peace jirgas and hospitals, the
shops of barbers and tailors?
In brief, would the JI’s founder have upheld the ‘jihad’ which more
than a dozen militant groups are waging on Pakistan at the behest of
Osama bin Laden’s deputy, Ayman al-Zawahari, who officially declared
that his organisation was at war with the state of Pakistan?
The change in the JI’s policies had begun in the late 1970s when bad
health kept Maudoodi from paying full attention to party affairs. He had
opposed Ayub’s military dictatorship, but when Zia took over on July 5,
1977, his party swung to the dictatorship’s side, and sent party
volunteers to Afghanistan for the US-led anti-Soviet ‘jihad’.
Let it also be recorded for history that when journalists were
whipped, Zia’s information minister was Mahmood Azam Farooqi, a JI
leader. Today, the JI denies that it received money as part of the
Mehrangate dole, and let us accept its denial. Would Maulana Maudoodi
have pursued policies which would have compromised his party’s image?
The JI’s boycott of the 2008 general election has given rise to
misgivings. The JI leadership must take steps to remove this
misunderstanding and perhaps read their founder’s six points which place
emphasis on free and fair elections and the availability of democratic
avenues for all.