The doubting general

Mohammed Hanif's first book is not elegantly crafted, sports scant lyrical prose, nor does it play with words or imbue multiple layers of meaning to objects or names. Yet the raw emotion that infuses the prose holds the reader enthralled in the narrative. In spite of (and not because of) his degree in creative writing, Hanif moves beyond the textbook styles of novel writing that so characterise the works of some other notable Pakistani writers – Kamila Shamsie, for instance, with her attempts to mimic 'magical realism', or Mohsin Hamid, who tends to rely on overly clever symbolism. Hanif, on the other hand, is content simply to allow his heart to speak.

It is June 1988, and a young Pakistan Air Force cadet, Ali Shigri, is coming to terms with his father's mysterious death. A war hero with access to the inner circles of the army's high command, his father's exploits in the covert war in Afghanistan are legendary. At the height of his success, however, he has suddenly committed suicide. Meanwhile, Shigri's roommate at the Air Force Academy may have been killed during an unauthorised flight out of the base. There are questions about the role of an American guest instructor, who had been spending time with the two young men.

As Shigri is given a round of the detention cell at the base, and then of the infamous Lahore Fort, Hanif introduces us to some of his more colourful characters. Major Kiyani, for instance, is the Lata Mangeshkar-listening intelligence operative who runs his little world with a packet of Dunhills, a gold lighter and an unregistered car. There is the secretary-general of the All Pakistan Sweepers Union, who is accused of planting a bomb in an attempt to assassinate General Zia ul-Haq. And, of course, in an echo of a real-life case from the 1980s, there is Zainab, a blind rape victim who is in jail awaiting punishment.

The narrative moves back and forth between Shigri's plight and that of Gen Zia, who is plagued with signs of doom, bullied by his wife, double-crossed by one of his most trusted aides, and desperate to outwit the CIA and the US government, whose motives continue to confound him. In spite of Hanif's obvious antipathy for the general, the author is to be commended for his multi-dimensional take on the character. Gen Zia does not come across as a one-dimensional villain, but rather as a man suffering from the agonies of significant self-doubt; all the while, he is the one who seems to genuinely believe in his mission, however misconceived.

This cast of real and imagined characters comes together rather late in the book, in a climax set in the sand dunes of Bahawalpur. Although the episode probably raises more questions than it answers, this is again a potent reflection of the real-life circumstances of Zia's demise, the details of which today remain one of the most enduring mysteries in Pakistan's history. Ultimately, other than the obvious fiction at play here, Hanif's own theory of what could have happened does come through loud and clear, and it is this culmination that will inevitably resonate with readers.

In the end, though, this book is not about solving mysteries or even expounding on theories regarding possible solutions. It is about Hanif's carefully etched yet extravagant character portrayals of actual people. The general's wife, for instance, was reputed to be well-grounded in reality and quite outspoken. General Aslam Beg's inscrutability remains legendary to this day, while General Akhtar Abdur Rahman's role in the Afghan imbroglio and the Ojhri Camp disaster is still being debated. Hanif's larger-than-life sketch of Joanne Herring, the US socialite who helped to bankroll the US intervention, was similar to the overblown depiction of Herring (played by Julia Roberts) in the recent Hollywood film Charlie Wilson's War; while the author's sketch of US Ambassador to Pakistan Arnold Raphel (who died in the air crash with Gen Zia) as a hapless career diplomat with little knowledge of the intrigues around him has a ring of truth to it. In something of a disingenuous twist, the author even includes a walk-on appearance for Osama bin Laden, in an unsuccessful attempt to link the events of 20 years ago with current circumstance.

Many of us who grew up in what was arguably the most difficult period in Pakistan's history can relate to Hanif's bitterness with regard to Pakistan's ruling clique, his disgust at its cynicism and its self-serving ideals. Meanwhile, the publication of this novel is all the more poignant at a time when Pakistan is in the throes of turmoil that threatens the very existence of the state. Here is an opportunity to try to understand the forces that have us to such a pass.

~ Safiya Aftab is affiliated with the Strategic and Economic Policy Institute in Islamabad.