Bacha Khan redux

A translation of Abdul Ghaffar Khan's autobiography reminds readers of a towering statesman of the freedom movement whose values remain relevant even today

The Frontier Gandhi

Author: Abdul Ghaffar Khan

Translator: Imtiaz Ahmad Sahibzada

Publisher: Roli Books

Pages: 576

Price: Rs 695

When Malala Yousafzai spoke at the United Nations in July 2013, a few months after surviving an attack on her life, she said, “I want education for the sons and daughters of the Taliban and all the terrorists and extremists. I do not even hate the Talib who shot me. Even if there was a gun in my hand and he was standing in front of me, I would not shoot him.”

Yousafzai went on to say that she has learnt “compassion” from Prophet Mohammed, Jesus Christ, and Gautama Buddha, inherited “the legacy of change” from Martin Luther King, Nelson Mandela, and Mohammed Ali Jinnah, and learnt “the philosophy of nonviolence” from Mohandas Karamchand Gandhi, Bacha Khan and Mother Teresa. Little did she know that one day she would be writing a blurb for The Frontier Gandhi – Imtiaz Ahmad Sahibzada’s translation of Bacha Khan’s autobiography from Pukhto to English.

Abdul Ghaffar Khan (1890-1988), affectionately known as Bacha Khan, continues to be a huge source of inspiration not only for Yousafzai but for all Pakistanis, especially from the Khyber Pakhtunkhwa province, who are dedicated to nonviolence in public life – whether it was Bushra Gohar, Afrasiab Khattak, Gulalai Ismail, Mossarat Qadeem, Bushra Hyder or Mohsin Dawar. The Pakistani state may have forgotten Bacha Khan’s contributions but his followers haven’t.

Sahibzada, a retired civil servant from Pakistan, with close ties to Bacha Khan’s family, has performed an act of public service by translating the autobiography into English. It is befitting that Roli Books, an Indian publisher, should bring out this translation, because of Bacha Khan’s enduring friendship with M K Gandhi and his formidable leadership of the nonviolent Khudai Khidmatgar movement that was Gandhian in spirit. The book carries a foreword by historian Rajmohan Gandhi who is not only Gandhi’s grandson but also the author of the book Ghaffar Khan: Nonviolent Badshah of the Pakhtuns (2017).

The biggest strength of this translation is its relevance to our times. Bacha Khan speaks out against prejudice and violence in the name of religion. He advocates freedom of choice in the matter of faith, and is absolutely against forced conversion. He encourages readers to respect others’ traditions. He writes, “Religion is not in this world to create differences and hatred between the followers of different faiths. On the contrary, it is the flag-bearer of love and amity.” This is not lip service. His strong belief in coexistence comes from the squabbles he witnessed between political prisoners jailed by the British. He blames the British for instigating tensions between Hindus and Muslims through their policy of divide and rule.

The book also has its funny moments. Bacha Khan tries to correct stereotypes about Pukhtuns. While doing so, he recalls how a fellow prisoner told him that he had heard that the Pukhtuns drank human blood. When Bacha Khan heard this, he said that it was true. The person who asked the question was shocked, and wondered why they drank it. Bacha Khan played along. He said that human blood was delicious, so the Pukhtuns liked it. The man was horrified, so Bacha Khan asked him if he had not tried human blood yet.

Eventually, Bacha Khan stopped teasing and told the man, “All this talk is incorrect. The Pukhtuns, too, are people just like you. Just as there are good and bad people amongst you, similarly, there are amongst the Pukhtuns. All this talk has been invented by the enemies of the Pukhtuns, and it is their propaganda which has spread this misinformation.” He might sound defensive here but elsewhere in the book he is also critical of Pukhtun society.

He highlights the fact that Pukhtuns used to consider agriculture and trade “lowly occupations”. Bacha Khan writes, “…the definition of a Khan to them was that of one who did not even know the boundaries of the land which he owned! I would say to them to think about it – was such a person a Khan or an ass?” The directness is startling and endearing. He also reprimands Pukhtuns who do not send their daughters to school. No wonder Yousafzai, who is a big advocate of education for girls all over the world, regards him as her role model.

Indian readers would find it educative to revisit events from their own school history textbooks through Bacha Khan’s perspective. He writes about the Khilafat movement, the introduction of the Rowlatt Act and the resistance to it, the Gandhi-Irwin Pact, the tensions between the Indian National Congress and the Muslim League, and the Cabinet Mission Plan.

Indian students rarely get to learn about the Khudai Khidmatgar movement, and this book can certainly fill that gap. What were the founding principles? How did Gandhi get involved? How did the movement become weak over time? Why was Bacha Khan disillusioned? This book provides important insights that can answer some of these questions.

Bacha Khan writes, “The truth is that our movement was greatly harmed by our gaining political authority. These selfish people were waiting for an opportunity to get power. When power was attained, they entered our ranks… However, power is not only just to get a government but to serve the people.” It seems that humans are still pretty much the same.

The autobiography does not touch upon Bacha Khan’s life after Partition, so Sahibzada’s epilogue tries to cover the period from 1947 to 1988 – the year that Bacha Khan died. This part of the book will be useful for readers who want to know why Pukhtuns continue to be sidelined in Pakistani politics, which is dominated by the Punjabi elite. It is also a crisp assessment of Bacha Khan’s contributions as a political leader and social reformer.