Dear friends,

Here are some reviews of my book Papio. The book will be made available at a special price for Sargodhians and, besides, 5% of the proceeds will be donated to the Sargodhian Spirit fund.

As regards pricing for overseas, I think it would be fair to charge $13 for the American market and Pounds 8 for the UK, plus freight etc. Details would be worked out later. Let's get to the reviews.

PAPIO, by Abdul Basit Haqqani, hard cover, 489 pages, (Lahore: Vanguard, 2000) Price 495 Pakistani Rupees.

Reviewed by James W. Spain

Books by retired ambassador and high commissioners about themselves and their exploits are not unfamiliar in Colombo. However, writing by resident diplomats reaches a new literary high in Papio, a first novel by present Pakistani High Commissioner to Sri Lanka Abdul Basit Haqqani.

Set in an unnamed Muslim country, Papio has many characters. Its plot is convoluted. Even a proper summary would require pages. Since it climaxes with the ascension to supreme state power (and disappearance into a hole in the ground) of General Shamsheer-o-Sana Awwal, readers and reviewers can be forgiven for seeing the book as an allegory for the military takeover in Pakistan by General Parvez Musharrif in _______ , However, this reviewer, having seen the completed manuscript long before that date can confidently testify that the parallel is purely coincidental. In any event, it is not the plot but the characters, ambiance, moral twists, and masterful use of language that make Papio unique.

As in any good novel, there is conflict: a mixture of "white hats" and "black hats" with a few "gray hats" in-between, more than enough to hold the reader's imagination.

Chief among the "white hats" is Papio, the title character, a clever talking ape, son of Saeen Sakhi, the self-established Pir Sahib of Khaccharwaaley, and twin brother to the more-or-less human Gumsum (bearded at birth) who succeeds his father as Pir Sahib.

Papio does his best to induce sanity into a crazy world and, of course, gets no thanks for his trouble. Living first as an unnoticed animal dependent in the Pir Sahib's house, he hones his intelligence planning the establishment of a more equitable society until he becomes a major player in affairs of state and eventually in a proper fairy tale manner ceases being a baboon to become a handsome young man who marries Kulsoom, the girl of his dreams. Kulsoom, daughter of the local notable, Shah Sahib, at first protects and cares for the infant ape, who soon takes it upon himself to use the anonymity that his animal status gives him to keep her informed of developments affecting her and the countryside which conflict with her noble but naive desire to bring out the best in society. They leave Khachawaaley and go off to the city in pursuit of their hopes to bring about a better life for everyone. They are together during the cataclysmic finale of the story when an erupting volcano destroys the society they had hoped to reform. They themselves, however, presumably live happily ever after.

The principal "bad guys" are the Pir Sahib himself, whose rise to fame and sanctity is based on the death of a stolen army mule which he buried and around which he built a shrine, the local police OIC, Sher Bahadur Khan, who combines every vice known to corrupt and unprincipled police officers anywhere in the world, the scheming civil servant, Hazir Hazoor, who efficiently serves everyone and anyone who is in power, and General Awwal's bumbling prime minister, Malik Sahib of Maliknagar of Malikpur, who without any qualifications for the job was brought up for it.

The "gray hats," among whom I would include General Awwal, are just ordinary people, like the rest of us, who wander in and out of the novel, sometimes doing good with bad intentions, sometimes bad with good intentions, often bad with bad intentions, even occasionally good with good intentions, and mostly just whatever seems comfortable and convenient at the moment. Haqqani's literary talents keep all of them alive and interesting throughout the book.

All the characters live in a rural Muslim culture, with which Westerners--and many South Asians--are barely familiar. Making their way of life, with its melange of greed and generosity, superstition and nobility, comprehensible is one of the author's major achievements. Indeed, I found explanations for things I had first observed in Muslim Asia a half-century ago and never fully grasped until I read Papio.

In doing so he conveys superbly both the atmosphere of backwater village life and that in the capital at the political summit. The narrative has a good bit of fantasy and a generous number of tongue-in-cheek passages but is never sectarian or condescending. This reader at least finished the book thinking "pretty crazy people and a pretty weird place, Khaccharwaaley, but I think I understand them."

Finally, a word about language. If it weren't for Haqqani's grace and fluidity in writing style, this long and complicated story could easily have broken down. The fact that it remains entrancing though all five hundred pages is a tribute to his literary skill. Papio is worthy of the Booker Prize.

The familiar anti-utopia of Khaccharwaale

Khaled Ahmed

PAPIO by Abdul Basit Haqqani; Vanguard Books Lahore; Pp489; Price Rs 495

Check this out, as the teenagers say: Saeen Sakhi becomes the Pir of Khaccharwaale after an army khacchar (mule) he stole died on him and was entombed in his village to give him the custodial sainthood he had not inherited. When he mounted his wife she gave birth to two strange babies, one a monkey named Papio who actually spoke like humans and a bearded monstrosity named Gumsum who inherited the Pir's shrine. If you haven't already read an allegory in it you must be dumb. Sakhi Saeen has also miraculously fathered a son on the wife of the local feudal lord, Malik Sahib, whose politics is ultimately to land him the job of prime minister. The lineal saint is however Shah Sahib whose daughter Kulsoom has to suffer Gumsum as her ill-smelling spouse in a marriage of power and politics. And she also keeps the talking Papio as a kind of Greek chorus on the peripety of the novel.

The country is of course presided over by General Shamsheer-O-Sana Awwal, a name plucked out of Allama Iqbal's much misapplied couplet. He wants to legitimise himself by taking on board the feudal politicians, the clerics and the saints. His trouble-shooter is the super bureaucrat Hazir Hazoor who has picked up contacts in civil society during his long career as a 'fixer'. He takes the General to the shrine now presided over by Gumsum and thus joins military power with spiritual power, an unfailing formula for eternal domination among pious people who think that the spiritual should not be separated from the political. Hazir Hazoor recalls Haji Akram of our times when he is not putting you in the mind of Anwar Zahid and Altaf Gauhar and Qudratullah Shehab. But novelist Haqqani kicks over the spoor so you can't sustain links beyond a paragraph. He warns you in a prefatory note against taking his work of pure imagination to mean real people.

Look at this sentence: 'In a society in which anyone had some association with someone who was anyone, Hazir Hazoor's acquaintance with the key player involved in determining the legality of General Shamsheer-O-Sana Awwal's regime cannot be considered coincidental.' He approaches his school pal judge Ibnulwaqt who would be a cog in the machine of legitimacy the General was putting together. Look at another sentence: 'Hazir Hazoor returned from the interview (minus the briefcase) to reassure the President that the court would decide on the basis of doctrine of necessity which, in ordinary language, meant that the General had the right to do what he liked as long as he wielded sufficient coercive power to make people obey him.' Bells of irony must ring deafeningly after this.

There is also wisdom in the novel, embedded in the Rabelaisian happenings of the story: 'Contrary to the proclamation of authoritarian rulers, political stability - interpreted as the uninterrupted dominance of the same person - is not highly prized by the public'. Autocrats, lured by the doctrine of 'stability', find it necessary to 'transmute themselves from autocrats to democrats through the alchemy of elections'. Sample another nugget: 'Modern generals are immune to hubris and would not, even in a fit of insanity, subject themselves to the approval of the fickle mob. Indeed the done thing in matters of this kind was to stay rooted to the pedestal while raising it above the hurly-burly of mundane politics. It is not the highest office of the land which is put up for auction, only much minor and inconsequential positions as membership of legislatures or the cabinet.'

Perhaps the best observation on the doomed Marquezian world of General Shasheer-O-Sana Awwal is as follows: 'Dissatisfaction is like a ray of light. It spreads as it travels, and, while becoming diffused, it embraces a greater area. This, as any administrator knows, is doubly dangerous, since focused unhappiness, limited to a few, is easier to deal with than vague displeasure widely spread'. The next one is even more piercing: 'This was only to be expected (concentration of all powers) since all dictators want to be known as the source of all good. By the same token, however, they risk being regarded as the font of all evil'. The General betakes himself to Pir Gumsum of Khaccharwaale to obtain the oracle's imprimatur to his eternal rule.

The novel crawls with sinister creatures of all sorts linked to the spiritual despotism of General Shamsheer-O-Sana Awwal. The land simply cannot take the load any more and starts crumbling. To tell the entire story would be to take away from the mystery of the novel. Suffice it to say, there is a cataclysm of sorts in the last chapter where Papio the talking monkey and Kulsoom look on philosophically as the mephitic empire ends in an implosion reminiscent of the uprooted cities of sin described in the Scriptures. Abdul Basit Haqqani has created modern fiction from his imagination. He is a witty story-teller and his language plays a good part in spicing up the pages. This novel may yet be an internationally accepted gloss on what happens when military power combines with spiritual power in the alembic of democracy's perverted 'alchemy'.

(This review appeared in The Friday Times May 18-24, 2000. It can also be seen on the internet edition of the paper.)

Newsline (May 2000 issue)

Through the Looking Glass

A fertile imagination runs riot in a gifted first novel.

(Tehmina Ahmed)

Racy, readable and full of twists and turns that never cease to amaze, Papio is a first novel that was ten years in the writing and is probably all the better for it. It is a tale of the most amazing greed and corruption, of awesome adventures and unexpected events, told with a rare skill.

The story is told in fluent prose and there is tongue-in-cheek humour behind the telling that keeps it from becoming merely a morality tale. Haqqani displays an effortless control over language and does not mince his words or shy away from some rather graphic details concerning the most intimate moments in the life of his characters. Below the frolic, however, runs a vein of melancholy as the author surveys the loss of probity that takes a nation to its ultimate downfall.

While history goes about the task of repeating itself, papio's cast of quirky characters with their marked idiosyncaracies develop a life of their own. The action then draws to a swift close, with a telling indictment of a social and political order that would put even the lemmings to shame, Papio is one of the most creative and meaningful works of fiction to emerge among Pakistani writing in English since Zulfikar Ghose's Aziz Khan. Hopefully it will attract an international readership too and the writer will follow up an entertaining and thought provoking read with others - although as a first novel papio will be a hard act to follow.

No Respite

Sarwat Ali

The News on Sunday (April 16, 2000).

In Papio one finds the same primitive desire for power driven by avarice and greed that characterises our society and makes us wonder when the trend will be reversed for a more civilised social existence. In the novel which briskly unfolds, the reader constantly gasps for an escape from the mechanism of greed and avarice, but none is provided, as the events head, apparently predestined, to the final destruction...

A major saving grace of the novel is that the author has not gone the extra mile to create his own idiom in English. Ever since writing in English by the English speaking people has become acceptable, writers have striven for the flavour of their own region in the language by coining phrases and words...

Most leading writers have fallen prey to this phenom,enon and can easily be criticised for exhibiting their wares with that exotica, rather than fall in line with the authenticity of their experience. Basit haqqani has made no such attempt and the absence of this effort is a great blessing. He has poised the novel in this time and place by creating allegorical types which are very specifically Pakistani...

The author's use of language is a compelling device for the narrative to sustain its rhythm, without being bogged down by the lure of an artificially created language.

Dear friends, I hope these comments will provide a reasonable picture of what the whole thing is about. Do let me know what you think about it and how we can proceed.

There are two ways of getting the books, through Anas or through me (I will have toask someone in Lahore). The cost for US would be US$13 plus freight and handling. Therefore an order in larger numbers would save money. 5% of the price will go towards the Sargodhian Spirit Fund. Payments could be deposited in my account in New York Apparantly the exporter has problems unless he can show the returns immediately so I can pay him before he ships the books (actually airfreight them).

Please send e-mails to:

abh@sri.lanka.net - Basit Haqqani

Basit

(The Island, Colombo. July 1, 2000)

Papio

by Abdul Basit Haqqani

(Bradman Weerakoon)

"Papio", Basit Haqqani's extraordinary first novel is a witty, satirical commentary on the contemporary world we live in. The stories he relates in a delectable, tongue-in-cheek style may be located in a Muslim country, perhaps his own Pakistan, but the characters who weave and interweave in a tangle of fantastic happenings could be found anywhere else, especially in South Asia.

Where it resonates is that most of the characters who inhabit his world are there around us. The posturings and pretensions of the elite and the innocence and nobility of ordinary people, consistently exploited by landlords, holy men, businessmen, the bureaucracy and the politician -in fact anyone who has a hand in the exercise of power, for all their apparent remoteness rapidly become our own. It's alien only in terms of the scale.

In Papio you have a boxful of treasures. Fraudulent saints (Pirs) who make lots of money from their credulous supplicants; enforcers of Law and Order who are the epitome of lawlessness; beggar mudalalis who control the city's mendicants; engineers who build roads that are transportable and lead nowhere; shady businessmen who insure themselves against the uncertain future by giving large sums of money to all who aspire to political office: civil servants who direct their civility only towards the right kind of people; and generals who after usurping power, need elections -without political parties -to give themselves legitimacy;

They are all there - with a bit of exaggeration -as befits the genre of magic-realism a la Gabriel Marquez, which Haqqani utilises brilliantly to tell his story. As a counterpoint to the vain and the villainous who inhabit the foreground we have too the side of innocence and nobility, a wise talking- baboon Papio, the hero of the fable and his female companion Kulsoom -who weave in and out of the stories managing always, in the nick of time, to escape from the clutches of those who seek to ensnare them.

The plot moves fast throughout its 489 pages exposing in lucid and graceful prose the underside of daily life in a topsy-turvy world. Everything we conventionally accept has another, darker side. That is the ultimate reality. In what is perceived as the idyllic round of village life, the peasant is exploited: in what passes for economic progress only the rich become richer; the raison de etre for the police, what masquerades as administration and even the armed forces, are support of the politician who after all is there to serve the people. Haqqani is a fabulist who loves lists as Kulsoom's wedding reception shows.

"The items on display were both various and numerous so that this part of the haveli had less the appearance of a dwelling than of a cash and carry warehouses. Among the more sizeable items there were 92 air conditioners, 64 television sets, 28 video recorders, 42 dish antennas, 127 refrigerators, 59 deep freezes, 361 transistor radios, 168 hair dryers, 238 electric stoves, and innumerable pots and pans of various sizes. There were also 2466 dresses and 955 pairs of shoes."

What makes Haqqani's writing original is his ability to represent familiar people and things in our society in unfamiliar ways. He exposes the contradictions, and the essential falsity of character and situation by having Papio see them literally and truthfully, putting them in the context of real life. Take for example the Civil Servant Haazir Hazoor - 'the only sign of continuity in the country's history representing the nations institutional memory' etc, etc.

"Ever since he had become part of the establishment which calls itself the Civil Service (because it is careful to direct its civility towards the right kind of people) he had been at the summit. He had been specifically recruited for the top and had remained there watching with a smile, if not a sneer, others try to ascend the slopes only to slip and slide towards oblivion. Not long after he had joined the Service, he had discovered that his spinal column was unsuitable. It was true that it caused him no physical discomfort at the moment, but it threatened to become the source of great pain in the future. It tended to keep his body upright and that was a great disadvantage in one who needed to bend every time he was addressed by his masters. He had therefore repaired to the hospital and had two of his vertebrae removed from a strategic location."

Or, the general who usurps power as the Head of State- "General Shamseer-O-Sanaa'Awwal known, variously, as SOS or Save our Souls (amongst those of his colleagues who knew him rather well), as the President ( by the public) and 'that bastard' ( by his critics), was a man of Destiny. That he enjoyed a special place in Fates favour was evident from the fact that he had not only been born (which was a necessary precondition for Fate to have had anything at all to do with him) but had also survived in a country which held the record for infant mortality."

Always a part of the tragi-comedy, expertly concocted, is the narrator, Haqqani himself, in philosophic mood, making vivid images and giving body to his thoughts.

'Everyone who was anyone in society was a parasite, exploiting others, and accorded the greatest respect for it.'

'The perception of the observer is more important than objective reality. ' On the practice of having two wives-' No one takes seriously a politician from the countryside if he is not prepared to spend on an urban spouse the wealth he has acquired through marriage to a rural lady"

And of a lady of high society but low virtue ---"Since society frowned on epidermal exposure she had recourse to morphological exhibitionism. Even so she knew what to hide and how to hide it without obscuring it. And she knew what not to hide, when not to hide it, and from whom."

The ending of this saga is explosive, or more accurately implosive. The master storyteller brings all of the characters you encounter together in one grand climax. The event is the opening of the giant monument erected in honour of the Presidents accession to legitimate power through a fixed election, on the site of an extinct volcano in the middle of the capital city. It had to be the tallest and heaviest man-made structure in the world but because of its inordinate height and weight begins to sink taking all the invitees to extinction in the abyss it creates. Only Kulsoom and Papio, now miraculously transformed into a handsome young man, survive "to go and find themselves a little garden to cultivate".

Haqqani follows a long line of diplomats who have written books about our country and themselves and have adorned our literary scene. But he is the first to have produced a full-length work of fiction. (When I mentioned this at a recent launch of Papio someone from the audience shouted out, but what about Mani Dixit's 'Assignment Colombo'). Of the Americans there have been Philip Crowe, Howard Wriggins and James Spain. Of the Indians, in addition to Dixit there was the poetry of Lakhen Mehotra. And the spouses too are not to be left out for there have been the penetrating short stories of Christine Francke the wife of a recent German Ambassador. But this novel by a Pakistani diplomat, a coruscating commentary of our contemporary world is the first of its kind in many ways, including genre and content.

James Spain in a recent review describes it as a gem of a book deserving of the Booker. One can only agree, while marvelling at the courage of a man who can write with such refreshing candour in our uncertain, vulnerable and disquieting times. Perhaps Papio will make it to the Booker, doing for Pakistan with his marvellous fable- now one of the most vital forms of literature- what Arundathi Roy did for India with her gripping tale of illicit love that broke the immutable Keralan caste codes.

There is a Punjabi saying that " if a lost soul finds his way home come nightfall, we do not call him lost anymore." After 35 years of diplomatic life Basit Haqqani has surely come home with this extraordinarily compelling and eminently readable first novel.

(Dawn July 4, 2000)

PAPIO

By Dr Aftab Ahmed

Abdul Basit Haqqani's English novel Papio is not unusual in name only; it is unusual all the way--the story, the episodes, the characters and of course the catastrophic end. It is a sustained satire in the form of an allegory, low comedy or farce, call it what you will.

The story begins with Sakhi Saeen, Pir Khaccharwalley who after having been hounded out of his village on a charge of rape steels a Khacchar (mule) on the way to another village and when it dies he buries it, lights a candle on the grave and turns it into a shrine. Sakhi Saeen's wife gives birth to twins, one of whom is a monkey and the other a monstrosity, a baby boy with a beard. The monkey is named Papio and the baby boy as Gumsum because he did not speak for a long time. Finally, he did and grew up to be a Pir.

The novel is full of such bizarre happenings and bizarre characters or rather caricatures of various types. In the village there are land lords such as a Shah Sahib, a Malik Sahib and his son and a Thanedarjee, all typical of their class. Shah Sahib's daughter Kulsoom, however, is different. She is disgusted with the order of things in the village and develops a passion for reform. So does Papio, a monkey who thinks speaks and acts like a human. They become good friends. Kulsoom is married, against her will to Malik Sahib's son, she runs away taking all her jewelry and money and joins Papio.

They move to the capital, the seat of power of the military ruler Gen. Shamsheer-o-Sanaa Awwal from where Papio and Kulsoom now realize the change has to start. The Gen. has his bureaucrats such as Haazir Hazoor and Jee Janab and many others. Then there are the wheeler dealers of the of the private sector, Mr Khandani and Engineer Baikar Mistry, the religious extremists like Molvi Fitna and Allama Sharpasand. These people are also represented as caricature of their types. Soon after the General orders an election and the Prime Minister selected is no other than Malik Sahib's son who was once married to Kulsoom but is now married to a city girl called Bijli. Kulsoom becomes Secretary to her and Papio a companion of The Prime Minister accompanying him everywhere, sitting on his shoulder and whispering advice to him. As Papio puts it they have joined the system to destroy it from within.

The end comes when the General decides to have a monument to commemorate his rule. The contract for the construction for the tallest column in the land was given through the Prime Minister to Mr Khandani and Engineer Baikar Mistri. In order to build a strong base of rock and stone Baikar Mistri decides to dig tunnels under the mountain on which the structure was to stand. The result was that as the column rose upwards its base sunk down into the crater and the whole city started shaking. Papio knew what was going to happen as he had engineered it all as per his claim: "Once you have sent a boulder rolling downhill", It will keep going, pretty soon there will be a proper avalanche or landslide or whatever." Papio, the monkey is portrayed as much cleverer than all the homo sapiens in the novel. Isn't this by itself, the ultimate in satire?

On the inauguration day of the column, amidst a grand function, the column snapped and its pieces came down in a deadly hail, the ridges and hills crumbled and every thing slide towards the chasm into which the General and his guests all disappeared. Papio and Kulsoom had moved out to a safe place on a higher ground. "On impulse she turned and kissed Papio" and found herself in the arms of a handsome young man. Kulsoom knew all about frogs and princesses so she was not surprised. 'What now?' She asked. 'Now princes,' said Papio, 'Now let us go and find ourselves a little garden to cultivate' "

As we know the reference to 'frogs and princesses' is from the fairy tales and 'cultivating a little garden' is one of Volair's famous sayings. Such literary allusions--the name General Shamsheer-o-Sanaa Awwal being one from Iqbal--are to be found elsewhere also in the novel. Influences of Rabelais, Swift and Marquez may be there but Haqqani has created a world very much his own, which is directly related to the political and social distortions, religious extremism and superstitious practices in contemporary Pakistan. It is a huge big satire on what he has seen around him. As such, it is basically a very realistic novel, only reality is presented with derisive exaggeration and ridicule, which are parts of the satirical technique. However, some times the author over strains the reader's patience when he dwells a little too much on describing a situation or when he tends to go too far in ridiculing a person, as for instance, when Malik Sahib's son while riding a horse on his wedding day is made to fall on a heap of cow dung and is then made to sit besides his bride reeking with its smell.

All genuine satire has a moral basis. So does Haqqani's. He expresses his disgust and disapproval by poking fun at the shams in our society but he makes it most enjoyable by couching it in his engaging prose studded with wit and humour.

Dear friends, I hope these comments will provide a reasonable picture of what the whole thing is about. Do let me know what you think about it and how we can proceed.

There are two ways of getting the books, through Anas or through me (I will have toask someone in Lahore). The cost for US would be US$13 plus freight and handling. Therefore an order in larger numbers would save money. 5% of the price will go towards the Sargodhian Spirit Fund. Payments could be deposited in my account in New York Apparantly the exporter has problems unless he can show the returns immediately so I can pay him before he ships the books (actually airfreight them).

Please send e-mails to:

abh@sri.lanka.net - Basit Haqqani

Basit