Following is the original text of the feature I wrote and the edited version of which was published in DAWN Supplement under the title 'The Other Side of the Quaid' on December 25, 2012. An online link to the published version appears here.
STORY OF THE HEART
The kind of person Muhammad Ali
Jinnah was
under the tough
exterior
by
Jawad Daud
Muhammad.
Ali. Jinnah.
Like his name, the life of The Great
Leader also had three distinct chapters. Each one is richer, more remarkable,
more inspiring than the one before. Several books have tried to describe a
dazzling life through mortal words, stopped, and chosen to speak his legal and
political life instead. Not much is known about his personal life probably
because he was a very private person. But once in a while you chance upon a
gemstone, pick it up, examine it, and can’t help but marvel at the fact that
from Ali to Muhammad to Jinnah, he always had the makings of a statesman, a
leader, and a gentleman. And below the frail exterior was a strong heart that
knew how to love, how to lose, and how to find reasons again to go on.
While
he was young and living in Karachi, Ali avoided playing in the street with
other boys of his age. Whatever games they played were physical and would cause
a bruise, a fight, or stain clothes in the least. Ali being too meticulous and
mature for his age liked to keep his clothes unspoiled and his hands clean. In
'Jinnah, Creator of Pakistan' published in 1954, writer Hector Bolitho
interviewed several people that knew Ali as a boy. He recounts an anecdote that
Nanji Jafar, one of Ali's neighbors from childhood, narrated to him. ' I was
playing in the street when he, then aged about fourteen, came up to me and
said, “Don’t play marbles in the dust; it soils your clothes and dirties your
hands. We must play cricket.”' The fact that the boys dropped the marbles and
followed him shows that Ali could be persuasive and he tried to make things
better for people around him from an early age.
As destiny was about to tug him to
London to further his studies, his mother asked him to wed Emi bai. While he
would be in London, his mother would die and he would miss the funeral. Ali
would not be able to see her face one last time before she would be buried and
it would sting for the rest of his life. But for now, he complied with the
wishes of his mother and let this be one of the very few decisions he allowed
others to make for him.
His stay in England would instill in him
an Englishness of manner and behavior that would continue to his death. His
imitation of the upper class Englishmen in India would be so accurate that it
would make the English uncomfortable. But that would come later. For now in London
in 1892, Ali didn’t indulge in pastimes or hobbies. He closed the doors on
temptations of art and history. He voyaged between lectures at Lincoln’s Inn
and debates in the House of Commons, ignoring the National Gallery on the way.
He didn’t know he was creating a void in himself. He couldn’t know why he was
creating a void in himself.
He would know only when he’d turn 39.
Meanwhile, in London in 1892 in the
evenings, Ali would invest his time and emotions into understanding – as
opposed to reading – Shakespeare. This investment would pay off years later
when he would enter the Indian politics and would have to deal with people who
behaved as if they’d just walked off the pages of the Bard’s plays. But thankfully
by then, with all its blessings, his first name will have become his second
nature.
Ruttie Bai was 16 and Muhammad was 39
when they first met in 1916. With an active interest in politics and absolute
love for poetry she was intellectually far more mature than other girls of her
age. She would often recite from Oscar Wilde, her favorite. An aggressive
supporter of India for Indians, Ruttie was an excellent horse-rider, attended
all public meetings, and was passionate for all forms of arts. Cerebral, mercurial,
ethereal: she was the kind of companion Muhammad had always sought. But it
couldn’t have been love at first sight for love is blind to appearances, deaf
to logic, mute to reason. It must’ve been something much more logical, much
more rational.
Like fate.
As
Muhammad became successful in politics, he also became increasingly religious.
He offered his prayers regularly and studied The Quran and life of Prophet
Muhammad (PBUH). This added even more depth and wisdom to his arguments and
vision. He spoke of the Prophet as “a great statesman, and a great leader.”
Over time, he started quoting philosophies of the Prophet and adding religious
angles to his speeches where appropriate.
Muhammad also became simpler in his
taste of clothing and eating; only taking what he needed not wanted. His
favorite food was curry and rice. He always smoked his favorite Craven A
cigarettes, one of the finest and the most expensive at the time. His wealth
gave him independence and freedom to speak his mind. Which brings us to another
story about Mohammad from Bolitho's book: even at the beginning of his legal
practice, he neither put up with improper behavior nor would tolerate a slight.
During a hearing, an English magistrate found him to be overbearing and
reminded him that he was addressing a first class magistrate. He was swiftly
served a simmering reply by Muhammad that the advocate in him was of no lesser
class.
The rapidly changing political scenario
of 1930s slowly transformed Muhammad into Mr. Jinnah. With resolve, conviction,
and integrity he earned the respect of even the most intense of opponents.
Despite the differences and bitterness of political life he was considered to
be a man without malice: unyielding but without malice. And he never minced
words. Especially while addressing those in power.
Historians opine Jinnah was both strict
and methodical whether it concerned small matters such as his monocle or large
matters such as his belief in constitutional procedure.
By late 1930’s, Jinnah had adopted the
local dress but did not entirely give up his Western clothes. For a headdress
he opted for a Karakul hat. He instinctively chose right clothes to make a
cultural and a political statement and created a modern Muslim identity.
After Ruttiebai’s death in 1929,
Jinnah’s personal life narrowed down to his daughter Dina. He loved her dearly
and brought her up with the help of his sister, The Mother of Nation, Fatima
Jinnah. Concurrently, he became more involved in politics and did not rest
until he fulfilled his promise of an independent homeland to millions of
Muslims and ‘died of devotion to his cause’ in 1948.
Jinnah carried the lumber of leadership
with grace until the end of his days. He knew he had to lead by example and he
didn’t let even the slightest opportunity pass him by. As governor-general, he
cancelled the orders for a Lincoln and an aircraft because Pakistan exchequer
could not
afford them. He would not install a lift in the Governor-General House despite
his old age. He would also ensure that the lights were put out before he had
retired to his bedroom.
Jinnah
was a visionary who did not allow personal problems to blur his vision. Still,
there were two occasions when even he could not hold himself back. And they
both involved his wife.
The
first time was at her burial where Jinnah remained silent and motionless
throughout the ceremony, probably recalling their first meeting, the troubles
he had to go through to marry her, the beautiful memories that both of them so
freely gave each other, the time they had together, the time they could’ve had
together.. When he was asked to bid his final goodbye to Ruttiebai by throwing
earth on her grave, the human weakness probably took him over for the first
time for he broke down and wept.
The second time was in August 1947 when
he visited Ruttiebai’s grave one last time before leaving for Pakistan . He had
filled hearts of the Muslims with joy and lighted their faces with hope. But he
had emptied his own personal life of any meaning.
By turning his back to Ruttiebai’s
grave, Jinnah left behind three of the most important things that would give
any ordinary loving heart a reason to go on: his beloved wife Ruttie who
remains buried in Bombay, his dearest daughter Dina who couldn't see how much
her father had suffered already, and the Jinnah House on Malabar Hill where he
had met life, shaken hands with it, and had embraced it with passion.
Even Shakespeare couldn't have
envisioned a tragedy so intense.
Jinnah was indeed a rare man with an
inspiring legacy as he ‘significantly altered the course of history, modified
the map of the world, and created a nation-state’ but still found time to add
life to moments.
Happy birthday Muhammad Ali Jinnah.
