Way back in 1991, in his address to Columbia University, Sir Salman
Rushdie, Indian -born Booker prize-winning surrealist, post-modern novelist,
being perhaps increasingly tired of protecting himself by hiding behind the
police cordons and even adopting an alias and wondering if he were reduced to
an abstraction, vented out his frustration thus: “For many people I’ve ceased
to be a human being. I have become an issue, a bother, ‘an affair’.”
To better appreciate this anguish of Rushdie, we need to hark back to
his phenomenal entry onto the literary scene of the post-modern world. It was in 1981 that Rushdie emerged in the
literary world with his second novel, Midnight’s Children, as the signpost of the
postcolonial Indian English fiction that depicted a glorious, rip-roarious
modern India’s new generation and its policies. It has in the process, having
upturned the ‘soft image’ of India—spiritual, and the traditionally struggling
semi-urban/rural India—that our early English writers like R K Narayan, Raja
Rao and Mulk Raj Anand had hitherto articulated in a language that is more of
Victorian/Edwardian style, truly become the ‘trend-setter’ of fictional writing
in India.
He and his novel had
indeed redrawn the literary map of India, paving the way for exciting themes,
mesmeric techniques and amazing creativity in manipulation of the language. The
novel, besides winning the Man Booker Prize for the year 1981 and the Booker of
Bookers award in 2008 for the best Booker novel in 40 years, had influenced and
enabled three more Indians win the Man Booker—Arundhati Roy for The God of Small Things in 1997, Kiran
Desai for The Inheritance of Loss in
2006 and Aravind Adiga for The White
Tiger in 2008—making the literary world look at India with awe.
It was in 1988 that his fourth novel, The Satanic Verses was
launched, which “depicted a character modelled on the Prophet Muhammad and
portray him and his transcription of the Quran in such manner” that it sparked
intense outrage among some Muslims who considered its content blasphemous. As a
sequel to these agitations, some countries, including India, banned the book
and yet it remained as a subject of continuing controversy.
On February 14, 1989, the spiritual leader of
revolutionary Iran, Ayatollah Ruhollah Khomeini, condemning the book,
issued a fatwa against Rushdie. A bounty was also offered to anyone who would
execute him. This forced him to hide behind the protection of Scotland Yard,
except to once in a while make a surprise presence on public platforms.
Later,
Rushdie issued an apology: “I recognize that Muslims in many parts of the world are genuinely distressed by the publication
of my novel. I profoundly regret the distress the publication has occasioned to
the sincere followers of Islam. Living as we do in a world of many faiths, this
experience has served to remind us that we must all be conscious of the
sensibilities of others.”
It’s unfortunate that even after over three decades of all this, Rushdie continues to be “an issue, a bother” for the world, for how
else can we explain his struggling for breath lying in a hospital bed aided by
a ventilator to win over the horrific stabbing by a 24-year-old bigot with a
knife at Chautauqua Institution in western New York state where he went to
address the gathering on a topic that is dearer to his heart: the US “as an
asylum for writers and other artists in exile and as a home for freedom of
creative expression.”
Reacting to the sad episode, Booker-prize winning author, Ian McEwan
called the stabbing an “appalling attack”, which according to him, “represents
an assault on freedom of thought and speech.” True to his observation—“Salman
has been an inspirational defender of persecuted writers and journalists…”—
Rushdie never missed an opportunity to speak out for upholding freedom of
expression. He once said: “Free speech is the whole thing, the whole ball game.
Free speech is life itself.”
Here it
is pertinent to note what his alleged attacker, Hadi Matar said in an
interview: “I don’t like the person. I don’t think he’s a very good person.
He’s someone who attacked Islam. He attacked their beliefs, the belief
systems.” This whole episode, besides vindicating what one of his characters of Midnight Children uttered: “What
you were is forever what you are”, also warns authors to be “conscious of the sensibilities of” people following different faiths. At
the same time, agitators too need not be that demanding—calling for death, for humanity
commends forgiveness.
May God bless you with swift recovery.
**
Scholarly write up. The underling fanaticism is responsible for this and such heinous crimes committed across the globe should have been main theme ot this enlightening essay.
ReplyDeleteThanks for the visit, Dr. Ramachandra… I appreciate your comment, but I thought of highlighting what he has engendered and what he meant for the world of literature, rather than talking about what he has endured.
ReplyDeleteLiterature is after all nothing but hypothetical and imaginary, which finds expression in words, and words are certainly not deeds, and as the UN Secretary-General said, “in no case is violence a response to words spoken or written by others in their exercise of the freedom of opinion and expression”.
The most rudimentary norm of any religion is: respect for life—the life of fellow human beings. Unfortunately, this simple dictum of religion gets obliterated by fanaticism. And, fighting against it is perhaps, an eternal challenge for mankind.