The interface of sharia with the Pakistani state has attracted immense scholarly attention over the past two decades. Prof Muhammad Waseem years ago expressed concern over the preponderance of Islam as a theme of academic inquiry, due to which Pakistani politics and sociology have become virtually mono-causal and there is a singularity in analyses.

His concern now seems incontrovertible in the absence of plurality of analysis. While scrutinising the Pakistani polity, any epistemic dimensions other than Islam are conveniently rendered insignificant. Thus, scholars and academics have been completely overwhelmed by the Islamic turn of the last twenty years.

Consequently, there is inevitable repetition in all the analysis because the theme has exhausted its epistemic potential. Therefore, to offer a fresh perspective on the issue becomes a hard task for scholars. The books being written in the field are inevitably repetitive or convoluted to avoid confrontation with the powerful religious lobby.

So, most of the books written to explore the impact of sharia on the Pakistani state end up being facile, simplistic and without critical profundity. Surprisingly, even with academics in the diaspora, the connection with Pakistan somehow becomes a liability when exploring sensitive topics.

Despite these encumbrances, Prof Farhat Haq, who holds a PhD in political science from Cornell University and is currently a professor at Monmouth College, has decided to take up this highly ‘combustible’ theme as the subject of scholarly inquiry in her recent book, Sharia and the State of Pakistan: Blasphemy Politics. Her previous book Pakistan: An Islamic State or a State for Muslims? was published by Routledge in 2009.

Prof Haq is fully cognizant of the external critics of the Muslim world, who conveniently cite the blasphemy laws and their (mis)application in Pakistan as “another consequence of Islam’s failure to undertake the reformation process needed to shape it into a more modern, tolerant form”. This trepidation of how Pakistan is being viewed abroad is widely shared by Pakistani academics in the diaspora, who frequently rub shoulders with international academics.

In such a situation they have to tread extremely carefully in order to maintain a balance between two extremes. The critical dissection of such a sensitive subject as ‘blasphemy’ makes the task of the writer doubly exigent and onerous. These were my apprehensions when I began to read Sharia and The State of Pakistan: Blasphemy Politics. However, I was pleasantly surprised that the book challenges the notions of limitation I have outlined above.

Prof Haq draws on ‘insights from Islamic studies, anthropology and legal studies’ to unravel the complex relationship between ideas, institutions and political actors that have sustained blasphemy laws ‘to become the site of continuous controversy.’

The book is a part of the series Routledge Studies in South Asian Politics. It is a rarely compact book, thoughtful in content, meticulous in the theoretical component, tapping into a large pool of sources, and creating a skillful narrative.

Recent Pakistani religio-political history has been most affected by the phenomenon of Khadim Hussain Rizvi, whose party Tehreek-e-Labbyaik Ya-Rasul Allah surfaced at the funeral of Mumtaz Qadri — the assassin of former governor of Punjab Salmaan Taseer. Rizvi has pulled huge crowds in public meetings to argue for a strict enforcement of the blasphemy law, even jamming the capital for a while.

For now, however, he and his party seem to have been forced to fizzle out. In this backdrop, Sharia and the State of Pakistan… is the first scholarly enterprise that has taken up the issue of Barelvi militancy and subjected it to thorough scrutiny. The author has simultaneously traced the trajectory of the rise of Deobandis as well as Ahl-i-Hadith denominations and their respective role in ensuring that the blasphemy law is not repealed despite its abuse and misuse with impunity.

With respect to the politics of blasphemy, Farhat Haq identifies three ‘conundrums’ which trouble Muslims when they try to harmonize Islam with the exigencies of public life. The Muslim nation-state has been entrusted with the task of delivering sharia, which remains subject to the suspicions of a large body of citizens who question the intentions of the ruling elite.

Then, there is also a cacophony of voices, each claiming that it represents the truest face of Islam while several others contest that claim. Thus, there is no singular authority that can issue a decisive ruling on religious issues. Lastly, while Islamic parties with substantial electoral appeal demonstrate some flexibility about the role of Islam in public life, religious parties with marginal electoral strength tend to show rigidity and ‘weaponize blasphemy laws to arouse religious passions in order to claim a greater share of functional political power.’ What is worth noting is that these laws were introduced initially by a colonial power and they were revived, armed with sharper teeth, by a dictator (Ziaul Haq).

Following a theoretically profound introduction, Prof Haq furnishes a detailed account of two “saints”: Ghazi Ilam Din Shaheed and Malik Mumtaz Qadri. I wish she had also incorporated such contemporary sources for Ghazi Ilam Din as Al Jamiat, Zamindar, Milap and Pratab (or Tribune for that matter) which would have added historical validity to the narrative. The Zamindar brought out a special issue on Ilam Din on the eve of his hanging in Mianwali jail. These contemporary sources could have helped the author refute the myths and miracles that elevated Ilam Din to sainthood. Similarly, Allama Iqbal, after hearing about the incident of Rajpal’s murder, is reported to have instantaneously said, “o Tarkhaan da Munda Bazi Lay gia jey” (see, the son of a carpenter has taken the lead). This reflects at least to a certain extent how the Muslim elite were thinking in the context of 1920s Lahore.

One fact would have made the account far more interesting, that the supposedly secular Muhammad Ali Jinnah was Ilam Din’s lawyer. But the fundamental importance of the Ilam Din case, as Prof Haq avers, is that it revived the debate around blasphemy and Ataullah Shah Bokhari, the Ahrar leader, was able to give the issue a political twist.

(to be continued)