A Contemporary Warrior
“I was a modern-day janissary; a servant of the American empire at a time when it was invading a country with a kinship to mine…” Changez, (Urdu for Genghis), the Pakistani Muslim hero of Mohsin Hamid’s second (brilliant) novel A Reluctant Fundamentalist is reacting to the news of America entering Afghanistan in the wake of 9/11 and fear for the safety of those he’s left at home in Pakistan.
It’s an interesting allegory: During the Muslim reign of Ottoman Empire, the Janissaries were Christian boys who were captured and trained to fight their own people.
This conclusion dawns on Changez, while he’s simultaneously on a business trip for Underwood Samson, his swanky NY firm, one which specializes in evaluating companies that are being targeted for takeover. Our hero is a Pakistani Muslim expat who has willingly been bred by the US system to be a carnivore, and he set out hungry, but now, he pauses on one of the top rungs of the golden ladder to ask himself about the origins of his implications and… the implications of his origins.
One of only two Pakistanis of his age to enter and triumph at Princeton, it seemed the only way was up for Changez. Taught to sharpen his teeth and nails by his firm, he soon became the next big thing. In possession of a company credit card, sampling the hautest cuisine New York has to offer, our hero is in pursuit of glory, and a blonde-haired, green-eyed princess, Erica (at least half of what AmErica means for him). He very nearly has it all.
Snakes and Ladders
Then 9/11 happens, and within a matter of weeks, an internal journey begins that compels him to throw in the corporate embossed towel and head for home. Compounded by the ill fate of his love affair, the mutual misrepresentation of his birth and adopted nations prompts a U-turn, and the need to reveal it all one evening to an American stranger in the Old Anarkali district of Lahore.
I must confess I spent a whole day with this book – I just couldn’t put it down. As a young Muslim who moved to America (albeit on the West Coast) in January 2002, shortly after the September 11th attacks, although I’m not Pakistani, I felt great empathy with Changez, given what I’d seen: a pandemic of unease, paranoia and prejudice that “naturally” engulfed the States.
After 6 months in San Francisco, in which I found virtually impossible to find work, I too left. I can’t compare my experience to that of Changez, and I suspect of Hamid himself; after all I’m a woman, and one who has the “advantage” of being commonly mistaken for an Italian. Once the truth came out, that my birth town was far nearer Kabul than Venice, I too saw sideways glances and heard muffled coughs of disproval.
Fundamental Truths
By far the most shocking phrase for many readers, is likely Changez’ confession that he felt slightly pleased by the attacks: not for the mass slaughter of innocents, but more by the notion that something, anything had finally brought America to its knees. I found that hard to swallow, but within the context of the book, I have to give the author kudos for putting a voice to a sentiment his character would naturally, if not rightfully be inclined to feel. What’s more, I think it’s fair to say that Changez’ internal turmoil, the mounting resentment of his heritage that begins to surround him, and his infatuation and eventual disenchantment with “the land of plenty” is something that is far from being an exclusively Muslim issue. (Nor a Pakastani one)
Just as the US gave Changez a chance for advancement and as he admits, to undo the disintegration of his once powerful family and fortune, America has given me a great deal – my fiancé is from Los Angeles. Little by little, each time I go there I notice that the grip of generalization, paranoia and prejudice is beginning to soften, and yet every now and again, someone will utter:
“She’s from where?”
Just as quickly as someone from my own community would utter:
“He’s from where?”
In this era of technology and globalisation, many of us believe there’s a place for everyone and every belief and it’s a proven fact that love can work wonders when it comes to head-butting barriers of race, status and religion. Yet, when we hear the word “fundamentalism” we typically run a mile.
According to the dictionary, fundamental means serving as an original or generating source, of central importance, belonging to one’s innate or ingrained characteristics, and stressing strict and literal adherence to a set of basic principles. It’s hard to tell right from wrong, or good from bad in the literal explanation of the word. It all comes down to how you read and interpret it.
Thank You for Writing
I for one, am thankful to Mohsin Hamid for putting pen to paper with The Reluctant Fundamentalist and offering his unique take on this delicate issue from a Pakistani Muslim’s perspective. And for his depiction, through the eyes of Changez and Erica, on what it means to belong, and to be longed for.
If you get a chance, do also read his first book, the award-winning Moth Smoke.
Have any of you read A Reluctant Fundamentalist? What did you think? Got another book recommendation you’d like to share with us?
