If India is all about “inclusive development”, then why the need for Muslim role models at all? An Azim Premji may be among the top philanthropists today, but has it made any impact on society’s attitude towards Indian Muslims? Besides, of what practical value is it to the common Muslim to bask in the reflected glory of an IT revolutionary? No one uses the example of a Narayan Murthy or the Ambanis to ask poor Hindus and Dalits to become progressive. Is it also not a bit ironical to bait a community about lack of progressive thinking at a time when excavated history is defining nationhood?
Shehla Rashid’s debut book Role Models: Inspiring Stories of Indian Muslim Achievers (Penguin Random House) provides no answers, for there are no questions asked.
She writes, “We (Muslims) must not limit our imagination or see ourselves within the narrow confines of identity.” The book itself rides on a supra identity, pigeonholing a community and directing it to course correct itself towards acceptable-to-the-mainstream inspirations. The individuals portrayed as exemplars are far removed from the life of abject poverty and fear of those they speak on behalf of, even if their backstories might perchance be similar.
This compilation of simplistic essays, interviews, and third person accounts lacks cohesiveness. And that’s the least of its problems. Although far from a stellar list – writer Salim Khan’s foreword and musician A.R.Rahman being the exceptions – it isn’t even an ode to role models, but to ‘Viksit Bharat’, ‘Beti Bachao’, ‘Amrit Kaal’; there’s a chapter titled Why Prime Minister Narendra Modi Is My Role Model.
Out of a population of 200 million, Rashid has selected sixteen people from different fields, including herself, as embodiments to hold forth on what Muslims need to do to become worthy citizens of this country – pay taxes, contribute to the GDP, bring India laurels, formulate policy, practise philanthropy and be “awesome…without being driven by groupthink”.
Although it claims to debunk boxes, the book in fact promotes a supremacist and alienating idea of a “Muslim civil society” to break away “from negative stereotypes”.
Dr Sana Hashmi, a scholar living in Taipei, finds “the characterization of Indian Muslims as a minority somewhat problematic” because it carries “implications of marginalization and victimization”. Implications? The threat is real. The fear is real. Lt Gen. Syed Ata Hasnain, referred to as “a people’s general” advises Muslim youth, that “any employer will look at your skill, education and experience alone, not the colour of your skin”. He sidesteps mentioning the clothes that are used to mark them.
When two cattle traders are hanged from a tree, when homes are selectively bulldozed, when Muslim women’s photographs are put up online and auctioned, the burden of negativity is not on them. Common sense should tell us that stereotypes germinate in the mind of the perceiver.
Dr. Jamaal A. Khan, an immunologist, says, “Our political leaders also need to rise above religion and constituency and think about the nation. We need to be comfortable with being governed by a non-Muslim representative and not harbour medieval tendencies for self-rule.”
Actor Huma Qureshi believes that while films have shown some evil Muslim characters “on balance, there’s also Pathan, which broke all records”. Yet, the most popular star, Shahrukh Khan, does not meet the exacting standards of this book to even be mentioned as a role model. Perhaps because he too gets targeted for the faith he was born in, and contradicts the purpose behind this venture.
If the purpose was to “humanise” the largest minority, then it falls flat for most of the chapters dehumanise it by emphasising on the cleavage between the good and bad Muslim. Role models should not be mere idols to be emulated or deified, but also mirror the aspirations, angst and diversities of the group they are supposed to represent.
Shehla Rashid, an outspoken former student leader and an activist, had filed a petition against the government for the torture of Kashmiris after the revocation of the state’s special status for which there was a sedition case against her. Would she qualify as a role model for raising uncomfortable questions? Or would she be a role model for seeing the light a year later and praising the same government for a “bloodless resolution” in the same state? What should a young person be inspired to do – speak truth to power or echo the chamber view?
She makes the alarming assertion that as a former critic of the government she “shouldn’t even be allowed to exist. But the fact is that I thrive because India is a nation built not on vendetta but on forgiveness, magnanimity, inclusivity, co-existence and tolerance – not only of religious views but also of political opinion”. For the past four years Umar Khalid, her comrade from student days, is in jail without trial or bail. Kashmiri journalists are suffering the same fate.
It isn’t about seeing the world in “binaries of ‘oppressor’ and ‘oppressed’”, but about being honest enough to address status quos that do not offer parity in either opportunity or justice. By suggesting that Muslims could be “deemed permanent adversaries of the state”, the book reflects a majoritarian mindset and blames “appeasement politics” for reducing an “enterprising, diverse and compassionate community into a caricature”.
If anything, many of the contributions here caricature them as cinder boxes ready to get “radicalised” because they suffer from a victim mentality.
In the most questionable and alarmist chapter, Amana Begam Ansari, a former research and policy analyst, writes that “the exclusion of Indian Muslims is not primarily rooted in systematic discrimination but is largely a consequence of the perception of victimhood itself…which raises concerns for internal security as well as national security”. She further states that the community “cannot progress by perennially being in anti-establishment mode either. This is not a call to be apolitical, but to be political in the right ways”.
Although Rashid does acknowledge the “unfortunate use of the term puncturewallas” and gives a nod to the “millions of Muslims engaged in informal employment in both organized and unorganized sectors – drivers, gig workers, delivery partners, farmers”, it is not for their struggles and spirit but because they are “an essential component of Brand India”.
A few years ago, the writer had made a cryptic comment: “’Garima’ on Uber. ‘Radhika’ on Big Basket. ‘Tanisha’ on Zomato. ‘Seema’ at Starbucks. That’s how we Muslims navigate fear every day in India. Can you imagine having to live in constant fear of being lynched – how traumatizing it is; what it does to our mental health?”
Despite it reeking of privilege – nobody has been lynched while ordering a cappucino – it did seem like the writer was pained enough to understand the conflict of a superimposed identity. Therefore, it is disconcerting for her to now state so categorically that those featured in this volume were never “profiled as Muslims because…once you achieve a certain level of professional expertise, knowledge or success, you transcend the categories of identity, gaining everyone’s respect and becoming a role model for all”.
Huma Qureshi was trolled for merely commenting on the saffron jersey of the Indian cricket team.
M.F. Husain who, despite speaking of pluralism and depicting Indian culture in his paintings, had to take exile after facing death threats. The point is not to accept artistic expression without comment, but to oppose it rationally and intellectually.
The writer is stuck on “Functionalist theories (that) uphold the status quo as a means to attaining social progress” and, therefore, insists on a President A.P.J. Kalam as the touchstone. Undoubtedly a role model and, remarkable as his achievements were, the fact is that he has gained the respect of the majority for parochial reasons. Even a liberal like Congress MP Shashi Tharoor eulogised him thus: “Abdul Kalam ignited minds, inspired young people, and embodied the potential in every Indian. A Muslim steeped in Hindu culture, a complete Indian.”
This statement embodies what the Indian nation expects of a Muslim role model. The implication is that people from the minority community are not supposed to have any political opinion about the society in which they are born and towards which they contribute.
The issue with Shehla Rashid’s Role Models and the social elite is that they will decide what the right ways to be political are. They will be the messiahs they disparage others for seeking.
Farzana Versey is a Mumbai-based writer. She tweets at @farzana_versey
