A treasure trove in Clifton

Published November 4, 2009

One of the abiding pleasures of visiting London is the huge number of book collections the city holds. And none is bigger than the enormous treasure trove at the British Library. Housed in the new building near King's Cross, this is a bibliophile's vision of heaven. I have spent many happy hours in the India Office collection where helpful staff fetches the most obscure title or document from the depths of the building that contain the millions of books and papers.

Although readers cannot go directly to the stacks, they can look up titles and, often, a summary of the contents on computer screens scattered around the reading rooms. I asked to see the Robert Clive papers, and soon, I was immersed in the hand-written correspondence between Clive and members of his family, as well as official letters to and from the East India Company. Even though these documents were around 250 years ago, they were clearly legible, and, more often than not, written in impeccable, flowing script. Large numbers of researchers were similarly preoccupied, oblivious to those reading next to them.

This, alas, is not the case at the Sindh Archives in Karachi. This little-known resource contains a substantial collection of official files, documents, books, maps, manuscripts and newspapers, some of them dating back to the 18th century.

Unfortunately, very few students and scholars use this priceless collection. Until the present director arrived some four years ago, most of this archive was poorly organised and largely inaccessible. Fortunately, he and his colleagues have been busily cataloguing and digitalizing the collection. This will protect the documents from unnecessary handling, thereby preserving them for posterity.

Many of the files and documents from the office of the Commissioner date back to the 1820s and require very careful handling. The location of the Archives in the Clifton area means that the damp sea air can cause paper to fall apart quickly unless the storage area has humidity and temperature control equipment. To restore damaged documents and maps, there is a paper preservation cell that meticulously pieces fragments together, much like a jigsaw puzzle, and treats them to prevent further deterioration. This is slow, painstaking work that requires skill and patience of a high order.

For me, one of the joys of visiting the Archives whenever I'm in Karachi is to see so much enthusiasm in a government organisation. Accustomed as I am to the lethargy and cynicism endemic in most departments, I find it refreshing to meet people who actually take pride in their work, and are eager to explain what they are doing.
Sadly, the reading room is usually empty, and while they welcome researchers, visitors are few and far between.

And yet, the Archives contain enough material to keep large numbers of Ph D candidates and research scholars busy for years. Indeed, I could happily spend several lifetimes browsing through the wealth of material on the shelves. For instance, I came across the first edition of Richard Burton's Sind Revisited. Even though both volumes have been reprinted locally, there is something very special in handling a book that was published in 1887.

The rare books section contains some real gems that, thankfully, are locked in an air-conditioned and dehumidified environment. One title that tempted me to immediately settle down in a comfortable armchair was Charles Trevelyan's On the Education of the People of India. The book was published in 1838, and I wondered what thoughts the author had on the subject over 170 years ago. Another volume that drew my eye was The East India Gazetteer of 1815. As these volumes contain a plethora of information, I wish I had the time to delve into the knowledge and insights these pages must contain about the subcontinent as it was nearly two centuries ago. But I'll have to wait for my next trip to explore the contents of these and other volumes as I was pushed for time on my recent visit.

Another pleasant surprise was to find a folder of some of the earliest editions of Outlook. Dating back to 1962, these magazines reminded me of I.H. Burney, the pioneering iconoclast who introduced some of the most astringent commentary and criticism to Pakistani readers. I began my writing career, such as it is, under Burney Sahib's keen editorial eye in the early Seventies, and his trail-blazing weekly remains a beacon for many admirers.

The Archives also contain back files of many newspapers, including this one. Issues of Combat go back to the 1920's. Some people have presented the Archives with their personal collections, and while strictly speaking, these are not part of the archives, they do contain some volumes collectors would kill for. So many books, so little time...

Perhaps the most important work currently being carried out is the creation of a computerised database that would make thousands of old files available online.

Currently, many titles and documents can be seen on the website (www.sindharchives.gov.pk), and this list is being constantly expanded. But it's slow work because the equipment needed to speed up the project is too expensive for the Sindh Archives to buy. Nevertheless, I am glad to report that the provincial government has been very supportive, especially since the chief secretary is an old friend and a keen student of history.

With so much chaos and confusion in Pakistan and the region, it might seem an odd moment to write about old books and archived official files. But this is the stuff of history, and it is vital to preserve our past if we are ever going to make anything of our future. Far too many people twist the past to suit themselves, making it all the more important to have the official record intact for impartial scholars to pronounce on what really happened.

Currently, there is a controversy going in England over the decision of the National Archives to make only digital records available, and halt the access to the documents researchers have traditionally enjoyed. Apparently, we will now be able to purchase printouts or discs containing the material requested. Scholars are up in arms because half the fun of doing research is to handle original material, and feel the whiff of history rising from a box containing manuscripts that have lain untouched for centuries. No disc can possibly be a substitute. But we in Karachi should consider ourselves lucky to have the Sindh Archives provide us with such excellent service.