It is constantly hammered in the innocent minds of the pupils at Madressahs that only they are true Muslims and that the rest of society consists of sinners
In my quest for an ancient tunnel, many years ago, I travelled through rugged hilly tracks from Rohri, a town on the western bank of the Indus, and wound up in the historical ruins of Arore. The mysterious tunnel that supposedly connected Sindh with Bengal in times immemorial originated from Arore, and culminated within the confines of Kolkata. The first-hand information sounded like a fairy-tale. But I thought there was no harm if I undertook the search for the ancient tunnel on my own. I thus arrived in Arore.
Once a fortress of Raja Dahar, the ruler of Sindh, it was on the outskirts of Arore that the last battle between Muhammed-bin-Qasim and Raja Dahar was fought. It was a perplexing battle, for it betrayed the whimsical nature of Sindhis in many ways. Sindh did not maintain an army. The Rajput warriors from neighbouring states of Runkutch, Bhuj, Nawanagar and Bakaneer always fought the invaders on behalf of Sindh. Raja Dahar had great faith in Budhiman, his Chief Minister who was an astrologer of immense reputation. Budhiman predicted total ruination of Raja Dahar at the hands of the Arabs. When Muhammed-bin-Qasim knocked at the door of Arore, the Raja sent back the Rajput warriors back to Runkutch. He did not want them to die in a battle that was preordained to be lost. Next morning the Raja along with his wife, sisters, son Jaisiya, other members of his family and a handful of local fighters fought a losing battle.
I was not in Arore to probe the whimsical nature of Sindhis. I was in search of the mysterious tunnel that stretched over a distance of 2,000 miles between Arore and Kolkata. Surprisingly, no one among the local peasants had heard about the existence of a tunnel in or around Arore. Luckily, a retired primary teacher came to my help. He stretched his arm towards a hillock and said, “Behind the hillock is Madressah Aarfi. Across the Madressah is an ancient cave of deity Mai Kalkan. My great grandfather believed it was a tunnel that takes one to hell.”
I thanked the old man and headed for the hillock. Adjacent to the hillock was the crudely constructed Madressah Aarfi. It had a highly depressing look. There couldn’t have been more appropriate interpretation of aloofness! I forgot all about the ancient tunnel and wondered about the location of the Madressah. It was almost cut off from civilization. I couldn’t find any habitation around it. Then, how come the Madressah seemed to be buzzing with pupils? The recitation of holy verses in multiple voices was clearly audible from the confines of the Madressah. I tried to photograph the Madressah, but was restrained by a group of mualims (teachers). They said, “Taking pictures or looking at pictures amounts to idolatry (buth-parasti). It is kufr.” Out of curiosity, I engaged the mualims in conversation. What I gathered from them is worth pondering over. I must share it with you. I do not know if the impression I collected from Madressah Aarfi still holds good, after all these years, for the rest of the Madressahs in the country.
The pupils in the Madressahs are restrained from mixing with people from other walks of life. They keep minimal interaction with society. Any branch of science is a prohibited subject for them. They are not taught social anthropology or archaeology. They do not read newspapers. They do not listen to the radio, watch television or use computers. Thus, information technology is totally forbidden fruit for them. What was outrageously alarming was that the pupils in the Madressah are imbued with superiority cult. It is constantly hammered in their innocent minds that they (the pupils) are true, genuine Muslims, and that the rest of society consists of sinners.
After certification, when they come out of Madressahs and go in search of livelihood, occupation, food and shelter in the society of ‘sinners’, they are dazed by the pace of the events and time. The world that exists outside their Madressahs appears strange to them. They become aliens in their own society. Not knowing what to do next, they take it upon themselves to purify society, and then convert it according to their own parameters taught to them in Madressahs for years. Eventually, the society is first pushed into conflict, and then engulfed in fiery clashes.
The graduates, undergraduates and non-graduates from Madressahs forget that Pakistan is predominantly a Muslim country. Heterogeneous Muslims with varied cultures and languages live in Pakistan. Any scheme to convert them into homogeneity would prove disastrous for the country. A good number of Muslims in Pakistan have been educated in colleges, universities and institutions of higher learning, and have acquired degrees in engineering, technology, pure sciences, health sciences, and social sciences.
They have their own perception of looking at the world. It is totally different from a Madressah graduate’s view of the world. By and large Pakistanis have a Sufi bent of mind. They are the disciples of Sachal Sarmast, Bulhey Shah, Sultan Bahu, Shah Latif Bhitai, Ghulam Fareed, Shah Hussain and Rehman Baba. No one has the mandate to sit in judgment upon a person to determine whether he is a good Muslim. What is important for a judge is to see whether a person is beneficial to the society. Allah has His own way of judging people. Would He dump Mother Teresa in Hell for she was not a Muslim?
