IN an isolated section of the library, one day Baker found a casebook while looking for something interesting. “Inside this casebook, like a small pulsating heart, lay a warm knot of baby mice nesting in a hollow of shredded legal citations.” Another day, in the Manuscripts and Archives Division she found something similar, crying for her attention: Maryam Jameelah Papers, 2.5 linear feet (9 boxes). Baker happily responded.

Maryam Jameelah was Margaret Marcus, a Jewish-American woman who embraced Islam and exiled herself to begin a new life in Lahore in 1962. She was invited to Lahore by Maulana Maududi, the founder of Jamat-i-Islami. The Convert is the story of her life from being Margaret to becoming Maryam, between Islam and the West — a story that tries to untangle the warm knot of a small pulsating heart.

Margaret converted at the age of 27 in suburban New York. But for her, it was not about forsaking Judaism. Rather, it was about finding a place for herself in a society where she was a misfit. Maududi’s invitation to Pakistan provided an exit for her stagnant and isolated life. She could finally belong somewhere.

Before being invited to Lahore, Margaret had exchanged letters with both Maududi and Sayyid Qutb, a member of the Muslim Brotherhood in Egypt. Both of them had talked about the moral decadence of the West and its imperial ambitions based on its Capitalist agenda and its general disdain toward Islam. While views of Maududi and Qutb were shaped by limited encounters with the West, Margaret’s beliefs arose out of her intimate experience of the worst of what her society had to offer: a world rooted in individual materialism unchecked by a moral and religious code.

She used her experience to write scathing condemnations of her society. Now, here was an insider who could criticise the West in a more convincing manner to supplement the Jamat’s own narrative. From being an outcast to becoming a celebrity, Maryam began to find her ground. She even thought she was finally happy.

But life in Pakistan brought its own sets of challenges and setbacks. In one of her own books, At Home in Pakistan, Maryamacknowledged that her impression of Maududi from his letters turned out to be “very different” from the Maududi she met after her arrival in Lahore. He was “equally surprised and dismayed” upon meeting her. Maryam had imagined living in Lahore would be living in a traditional and orthodox Muslim society. But to her, it seemed to be far off from the goals and ideals of Maududi and his Jamat. What had begun as a quest for the truth had turned into a place of disillusionment.

There are several surprises in the book which come at precise moments when one is just getting comfortable with the predictability of the story. The tale works more like a detective novel. One of the most fascinating parts is where Maududi distances himself from Maryam and she is ultimately sent to a mental institution — in an ironic replay of her past. Maryam’s release and her marriage to an already married Jamat worker are further dramas that keep the reader engaged in Maryam’s fascinating journey as a convert.

The structure of the book reflects Baker’s own progression of learning about Maryam and her own quest of finding answers todifficult questions about Maryam’s life. Baker appears as vulnerable to sudden shifts as she discovers the story along with the reader.

HER reconstruction of Maryam’s life is primarily based on Maryam’s letters. She has also reviewed some of her books to gain a better understanding of Maryam’s personality and worldview. But working with letters posed some problems.

Baker edited some of these letters for voice and brevity. She also took some liberty in mixing the contents of different letters into one to highlight some of Maryam’s experiences. In all honesty she discloses this in “A Note on Methodology” aftertelling the story. This raises an important question: Did she mislead her readers through the book? No. She has been extremely careful in presenting Maryam’s thoughts and feelings to her readers. I looked at some of the letters published many years ago in two separate books in Lahore, and found something interesting. There were variations between letters which appeared in Lahore publications and those in The Convert. But these were insignificant variations. Baker took great care in keeping the original voice and message as far as I could find.

Interestingly, this exercise led me to another discovery. In a letter dated early August 1963, Baker quotes Maryam: “Well, from that moment on I realised that Maududi family unity and solidarity were valued above the teachings of the Prophet and that no criticism from an outsider would be tolerated.” This line is missing from the letter dated August 3, 1963, published in Lahore by her husband. Clearly, the Jamat could not allow this to go public. Maryam’s letters were edited for publication in Lahore and some material which seemed damaging was removed.

There was one more problem with the letters. Maryam revealed at a later time that she had not been entirely truthful in some of her earlier letters to her parents about life in Pakistan. On closer examination Baker found that many of the letters seemed to have been re-typed. This raised a serious question: How much could she rely on these letters to re-construct Maryam’s life as it happened? After telling the story from these letters she tries to find explanations to understand some parts of Maryam’s life which do not make sense to her.

This takes her and the reader to an exciting conclusion of the book.

IN the book, Maryam’s letters are followed by Baker’s reflections, which are often critical of Maryam’s views and those of her mentors. Baker raises pertinent questions to get rid of the simplistic view of the relationship between the so-called Islam and the West: “Was the enmity between Islam and the West metaphysical or historical?”; “By what mechanism did America and the world’s Muslims suddenly become each other’s evil caricatures? Metaphor? Narrative? Racist propaganda?” She is both empathetic to as well as critical of Maryam’s positions, and her empathy is always lined with a certain hint of wariness. While she wants us to like her she also wants us to be cautious. It is a hard balance to maintain. And she does it well.

Baker treats other characters with similar balance, including Maududi and his opposites, the secular and Westernised elite of Lahore. When she questions Maududi’s ideology she seems to side with his opposition. But she also seems to understand and almost agree with him when she critically observes a section of these elite: “Cigarettes, illicit alcohol, and dancing girls? No wonder the ranks of civil society were so thin and in need of hired guns. Such a limited notion of individual freedom would mean little to those who had difficulty putting food on the table. I recalled Maududi’s warning to the students at Lahore Law School almost exactly 60 years before: Pakistan’s secular and Westernised elite would hijack Pakistan for their own ends.”

This is simply brilliant. She forces the reader to consider each side of the argument in its own perspective. Her empathy with each side makes one re-think the whole secular-religious divide and the role of this dichotomous relationship in the development of Pakistan, its identity and its future.

Baker has been fairly thoughtful and balanced in her treatment of characters and their views. And she has constructed afascinating story. But I must also share my observation about her treatment or lack thereof of two concepts: extremism and radicalisation. She does not explain either of these very loaded terms and ends up using them loosely. Is Maududi an extremist in her view? What does it mean to be radicalised? Is writing against Western capitalism an act of extremism and radicalism? How, why, and in what context may these writings incite violence?

In an almost desperate attempt to find answers to some questions in the end, it seems that she oversimplifies the realities of post-colonial Muslim experience. As a consequence, in a simplistic manner she attempts to draw a causal relationship between “radicalisation” and the events of September 11: “How could Maryam be sure her writings hadn’t played a role in the radicalisation of Muslim youth?” She asks Maryam again: “And 9/11? Was it justified?” In an earlier reflective moment Baker teases the thought that perhaps these attacks were a response to American intervention in the Muslim world: “Did we take after them or did they take after us?” Somehow she misses to connect this thought in her final analysis.

It is indeed true that a certain hateful caricature of the West has made inroads into the modern Jihadi literature adding fuel to the fire. But for actual violence to take place against the West, the Jihadis have always needed a justification basedon Western acts of direct interference, aggression and oppression in Muslim societies. This bit is quite clear from their literature.

I agree with Baker that ideas of Maududi, Qutb, and Maryam have certainly played a role. But these cannot be understood to be the sole influence. There is more to the whole picture of Jihad than she has been able to present in the concluding parts of the book.

I am baffled but also amused with Baker’s treatment of the book in the final sections. Maryam’s last location and its role in the overall story leap again as a surprise which threatens to shatter the carefully constructed narrative. Baker says: “Only then did it occur to me that I had made the same mistake [Maududi] had made. From a series of letters, I had conjured an entire being. I imagined I knew Maryam Jameelah.” And following Baker, so had I, until I started reading the last sections of the book. But, unlike a detective novel, not everything comes together in the end. Baker’s frustration and anger are almost palpable when she fails to get answers from Maryam for some of the questions which are crucial to completing the story. Perhaps they remain a mystery to Maryam as well.

The only way it can make sense is that Margaret’s journey to find meaning, truth, and belonging in a foreign land tookunexpected turns marked with challenges, disappointments, and delusions for Maryam. And the end was a reflection of this unfinished, yet fascinating quest, which was told wonderfully by Deborah Baker. Perhaps, one day it will all be clear. Or,perhaps, I will go and see Maryam Jameelah myself.

The reviewer is a faculty member at Lums

The Convert: A Tale of Exile and Extremism (BIOGRAPHY)By Deborah Baker Penguin Books, IndiaISBN 9780670085361246pp. Rs895