SWEDISH SOUTH ASIAN STUDIES NETWORK

---

Hotel Moenjodaro, on a visionary story by Ghulam Abbas:

Chronicle by Khalid Hasan in Friday Times, 1 November, 2002. See Friday Times web page.

On Ghulam Abbas’ short story Hotel Moenjodaro, written in 1967 (In Hotel Moenjodaro and Other Stories, Penguin Books India, New Delhi, translation into English by Khalid Hasan). A book review by Brian Spooner, University of Pennsylvania, is available in Annual of Urdu Studies (as a pdf file).

Ghulam Abbas, who with Saadat Hasan Manto stands in a class apart, foresaw in 1967 what came to pass more a decade later in Iran and what came true to the last detail in that infernal hole of bigotry and intolerance, the Taliban’s Afghanistan. With the prophetic eye of the artist, Abbas foresaw the rise of fundamentalist Islam.
Hotel Moenjodaro, his masterpiece and one of the most disturbing allegories of our time, is a long short story that he first read at a literary gathering in Karachi but the reaction was so hostile that he withheld its publication until 1969 when he included it in an anthology. But he chose to leave it out in a later selection of his work.

With the Muthida Majlis-i-Amal winning big, we have come close to the real life enactment of Abbas’s vision. It is important that those who are sensitive to the implications of the rise of reactionary religious forces in Pakistan should read Hotel Moenjodaro.
In a brief autobiographical note, Abbas wrote, “I am a follower of Iqbal, the great Poet of the East, and, as such, I have never associated myself with any sect or religious faction. I have always thought of myself as a simple Muslim, one among millions, and the fears and apprehensions I have felt about the future, I have expressed in the form of a short story. Before the partition of India, Iqbal reacted to the insensitivity, disunity and sectarianism of his countrymen by warning them: Na samjho gai tau mit jao gai aye Hindustan walo: Tumhari daastan tuk bhi na ho gi dastaanoon mein (If you fail to come to your senses, O people of Hindustan, history will carry not even a reference to the fact that you once existed.) It is the same kind of despair about our condition that has prompted me to write this story.”

The story begins on the 71st floor of Hotel Moenjodaro, where an international assemblage of glitterati is waiting for the first broadcast from the surface of the moon (the first moon landing had yet to take place when the story was written) by Capt. Adam Khan, a Pakistani. The magic moment finally arrives and Adam Khan announces to the world that he, a Pakistani from Jhang, has landed on the moon. As the invited guests burst into applause, the strains of the Pakistani national anthem rise in the night air. It is a moving moment. Adam Khan announces that he has just planted Pakistan’s flag on the moon.
The scene changes. In a small town in Sindh, a mullah tells his morning congregation, “I have just heard on my transistor radio that some Pakistani, may there be a curse on him, has landed on the moon. May God destroy him! My brothers in Islam, it is apostasy to expose to view in the name of science and so-called progress, things across whose face our Master and Sustainer has drawn a veil of mystery and secrecy. Brothers, because of this vile and disgusting act, we have been guilty of a grave sin in the eyes of God and my heart tells me that a most terrible punishment awaits us from the Great Avenger. And let me warn you, it won’t be long in coming.”
The unrest that begins in that remote village, soon sweeps the entire country. In the beginning, the government pays no attention but the agitation grows in ferocity every day with mullahs big and small denouncing Pakistan’s “godless rulers” who have committed a grave sin in the name of progress. They are accused of violating the Shari’a for which they deserve to die. One Mullah declares, “O Muslims, you are surrounded by atheism, shamelessness, dishonour, pornography, lechery, apostasy and wickedness. God’s word has been disregarded and mocked and the True Faith stands rejected. Adultery, drinking and gambling are being promoted openly. Instruments of carnal pleasure abound, and singing and dancing have become a popular pastime. Modesty has disappeared from the female eye and the woman’s soul and body have been divested of the raiment of virtue and decency. Verily, these are signs that the Day of Judgment is at hand.”

The mullahs summon a convention and call for the government’s overthrow and promise to establish the Kingdom of God on earth. Declaring themselves the soldiers of God, they launch a countrywide movement that finally brings down the government. As long as the mullahs were agitating, they were united, but the moment they take power, they become divided into six parties which are known by the colours their followers wear. Elections take place and an Amir is chosen from the Green party who declares himself God’s deputy on earth. He invites the losing parties to join his Majlis-e-Shura. The Jamia Mosque becomes both the Amir’s home and his secretariat.
His first edict says that the body politic should be free of the poison of Westernisation. A new dress code is imposed and the English language is declared illegal. The old administrative structure is dismantled and all old records burnt. Universities and colleges are closed and madrassas with religious syllabi set up. Arabic is declared the national language. Women are banned from leaving their homes unless they are properly covered. Their education now consists of the ability to count, and read and write just enough to maintain household accounts. Courts are reformed and lawyers are declared illegal. Men are obligated to grow beards, pray five times a day and abide by other injunctions. Non-Muslims are declared ‘zimmis’ and made to pay ‘jazia.’ Cinemas and theatres are turned into madrassas and orphanages.

All sports are banned except riding, archery and lancing as they are “Islamic.” Wrestling is revived. Every Muslim adult is told to carry a sword, while women are allowed to be armed with a dagger. Love poetry is abolished, as are novels and stories. Newspapers are forbidden to print pictures. Medicine and surgery are also abolished since the medicines prescribed by doctors are suspected of containing alcohol. Barbers are now the only surgeons. Everyone is told to dress in Arab clothes. China, glassware and home appliances are banned and electric power is declared haram. Radios, TVs and cameras are confiscated and their use forbidden. Foreign embassies are told to pack up as they spread alien ideas and their women go barelegged. Banks are shut down and foreign trade forbidden.
Doctrinal differences now begin to surface between the six parties and there are frequent arguments and fights. The real breakdown occurs when the government tries to write a history of Islam. No two mullahs are found in agreement on anything. One day the Amir is found murdered in his mosque. A fratricidal civil war breaks out. One night Pakistan is invaded by enemy armour and aircraft.
The last scene shows us a party of tourists riding on camels through a vast desert. Their guide stops suddenly, points to some ruins and says, “And that is the spot where, before the enemy struck, stood the Hotel Moenjodaro with its seventy-one storeys. It was there that the first Pakistani astronaut’s voice from the surface of the moon was heard.”

Khalid Hasan