Book Review: Laurence Gautier, Between Nation and ‘Community’: Muslim Universities and Indian Politics after Partition. Cambridge University Press, 2024.
Universities, ‘transmit, interpret and develop the cultural tradition of the society’. They can either ‘continuously reproduce’ these traditions or ‘critically transform’ them, said Habermas. What did the two centrally funded ‘Muslim’ universities in India, viz., the Aligarh Muslim University and its “rebel sister”, the Delhi’s Jamia Millia Islamia, really do?
The Cambridge trained French scholar, Laurence Gautier, has made an immensely successful attempt at working out the abovementioned question by bringing in wide range of empirical details, embarking on a very deep analysis of a wide range of evidence and putting these in larger perspective. She has proceeded to examine as to how did these two denominational universities, and the Muslims associated with these universities, negotiate their place in India, their individual rights as citizens, and their group rights as a religious minority, and/or as descendants of ex-ruling class, one must say. (The work also explores Muslim-ness of Indians and Indian-ness of its Muslim communities).
The Role of AMU & JMI in shaping Muslim identity politics
Whether such negotiations were confined more to the domain of political articulations or whether they produced researches too? Such articulations remain and remained largely tilted towards a particular class within the community of particular region(s). This Urdu speaking Ashraaf elite was called “Kutcherry Milieu” by the best biographer of the MAO College (which became AMU in 1920), David Lelyveld (1978). This is a particularly more relevant question to be raised for the AMU, because, in the colonial period, the All India Mohammedan Educational Conference (AIMEC, founded in 1886) soon became the political organ of the Muslim League rather than keeping the promise of opening up a chain of residential schools/colleges across the subcontinent. Given this legacy, worldview and outlook, did AMU, post-partition (for pre-partition days, introduction of the book does deal with these questions), ever raise self-introspective question against itself? Did the institution bother to question –in the republican-democratic era –why its enrolments, recruitments and governance-personnel suffer from an elite syndrome: the predominance of a select Club of a particular region-class of the Qaum?
The AMU, in the late 1940s had become epicentre of the Muslim League with the separatists enjoying a stronger presence on the campus. Various circles (not confined to the Hindu Right alone) memorialise AMU as a villain of Partition. The Pakistani intelligentsia also reinforces this idea. On the other hand, Muslims of various persuasions, look upon AMU not only as a platform aimed at their educational uplift but also as a fort safeguarding their identity. In fact, the latter aspect is arguably stronger than the former. This is perhaps congenitally associated with MAO/AMU. Look at Peter Hardy (1972: 103-104)’s assertion, “It is, however, important to recognise the limitations of Aligarh as an educational foundation. At no time did it educate a majority of the Muslim graduates even of the North-Western Provinces [UP]… Success in examinations and individual achievement were at a discount”.
Did the two universities question and address, even in their academic outputs, caste-based hierarchies and exploitation or did they deny or downplay these? Did they, through their research as well as through their political interventions and mobilizations, challenge regressive patriarchy, or, rather did they align with, or capitulate before the orthodoxy? Did they contribute towards secularisation-pluralisation of the state and society in general and the community (Qaum) in particular? Did they democratise the institutions and resources monopolised by the “Kutcherry Milieu”? Or, did they treat Indian Secularism more as a favour to Muslim conservatism and communalism and regressive patriarchy, thereby stoking and bolstering majoritarianism?
A large number of Urdu memoirs of the Aligarh community (faculty, alumni) mostly indulge in self-praise, rather than being critical and self-introspective. [Of significant note in exception are critical essays of Kunwar M Ashraf (1903-1962), in the Aligarh Magazine (Urdu), “Aligarh Ki Siyasi Zindagi” (1953-1955) and “Aligarh aur Siyasiyat-e-Hind” (1960)]. Most of these reproduce, disseminate and celebrate a class culture (not the mass culture), often misrepresented as the “Ganga Jamuni Tehzeeb”, discounting core academic production for an ameliorative and empowering politics of pluralization and thereby strengthening of Indian democracy. Of course, the two English language memoirs brought out by the AMU-VCs (both were not AMU alumni), viz., Badruddin Tyabji (1907-1995 ) and Nasim Faruqi (d. 12012) in the 1960s and 1990s respectively, have certainly given us critical accounts of some of these aspects.
The two Universities produced two “intertwined yet distinctive political trajectories” (p. 11). By the early 1990s, as the Chapter Six in the book, “Bastions of Islam”, demonstrates, the two campuses were no longer distinctive of each other in terms of shaping and articulating Muslim identity politics. Both campuses had become strong centres of retrogressive forces of north Indian Muslims. According to the author, the JMI became so, more pronouncedly, in the 1990s. This is indeed the boldest and bravest chapter of the book.
Competitive religious radicalism since the 1970s
The AMU was never weak in terms of its right wing Muslim presence and influence, though in the 1970s and 1980s it became even more pronounced along those lines. Both Universities were now becoming even stronger bastions of Islamism and retrogression rather than enhancing the qualitative and quantitative output in terms of academic research and or prioritizing the educational uplift of the Qaum. They were rather more engaged in emotive, identitarian issues. Chapter Six, towards its concluding notes, brilliantly underlines the fact that the more the Qaum turned towards emotive symbolism and identitarianism, the more they (un)wittingly pushed down the agendas of educational and political empowerment of the Muslim communities within. Worse still, the more they stoked majoritarian forces through their own retrogression, the more they made themselves all the more vulnerable, as this partly contributed to pushing India towards Hindu supremacism. Laurence Gautier, in this significant chapter takes into account the sub-continental as well as global phenomenon of the rise of competitive religious radicalism. She has brilliantly benefitted from the essays of Anuj Nadaur (2006), Simon Wolfgang Fuchs (2022), Yoginder Sikand (2003), etc.
Chapter Six of the book under review is a greater eye-opener, particularly for those who are steeped into and subscribe to the victimhood narratives of the Muslim elite and also the Islamic Right Wing. This wonderful chapter also exposes as to how do the hasty, ambitious Muslims bolster their political career through advocating, championing and perpetuating conservatism within the Qaum and pushing them rightward? Very skillfully, they keep the commoners of the Qaum blinded by the fact that such approaches strengthen Hindu majoritarian forces and inflict ever greater vulnerability upon the Qaum. The more both campuses (AMU and JMI) pushed the Qaum towards “Islamisation of Knowledge (IoK) and society” (funded by some of the Islamic countries from the 1970s) the more they ignored the under-representation of India’s Muslims in education, in public employment and in other such sectors such as media and judiciary. The chapter underlines this Rightward shift of the educated segments of the Qaum that was prompted/inspired by and/or coincided with the Maududi’s worldview, the Iranian Revolution (1979), Afghan Jihad, Radicalization of Pakistan under Ziaul Haq, etc.. This is what makes the chapter even more insightful.
Interestingly, during the late 1980s and early 1990s [when the localised dispute of Ayodhya was nationalised through competitive communalism and around the time of the Hindu reaction against the legislative undoing (1986) of the Supreme Court verdict (1985) on Shah Bano and the Ayodhya campaign of the Hindu radicals], the cataloguing of the Muslim underrepresentation was articulated either through the pamphlets of the three major Communist parties, viz., CPI, CPI-M, CPI-ML Liberation, and in certain liberal media outlets such as the Illustrated Weekly of India. Besides, the cataloguing of Muslim under-representation in the Gopal Singh Report (1983). These core issues were being raised to some extent by the state appointed VCs and other functionaries of the two universities but, significantly, not, in any significant measure, by the Islamists on the two campuses. Gautier writes (p. 286), “in the 1980s, university authorities increasingly invoked the need to uplift backward Muslims to frame their actions in a consensual framework.” Though, Gautier has expressed ignorance of benefitting from such pamphlets.
The growing Islamic fundamentalism combined with the boom in Gulf economies added to the anxieties of the sections of Hindu population which feared that the oil money may fund mass conversions to Islam and ‘give to Islamism in India a new glow of self confidence in one sudden sweep’ (pp. 284-285). [A similar apprehension was raised by Lala Lajpat Rai (1865-1928) in the 1920s, after the Pan Islamist Khilafat Movement, best articulated by Intezar Husain, in his Urdu biography (1999), Ajmal-e-Azam]. This is a significant point which needs to be probed further by collecting some data from the ground. As of now, there are very limited explorations about the socio-economic status of the Muslim communities of different regions and sub-regions. Most of the better known University academics, working around such themes of India’s Muslim communities, shy away from collecting such data from the field. Another aspect, missing in this chapter, is to probe this question: how, while Islamists were active on both campuses, engaged in and “advocating the purifying of Islam, promoting Islamic values and prioritizing the language of religion over the language of minority rights or social welfare”, their own children were –at the same time –pursuing all kinds of empowering education in professional courses as well as in the humanities. Also, how this project of Islamisation was, in itself, shaking overall secularisation and provoking a Hindu majoritarian reaction and thereby aggravating the vulnerability of the Qaum.
Another significant insight coming out of this volume is in the Chapter Four, “Resisting Minority Politics, Holding on to Composite Nationalism: Jamia Millia Islamia (JMI) in the post-Nehruvian period”. The author underlines that “JMI’s atmosphere became more orthodox in the 1980s when the ‘influx’ of teachers from AMU increased significantly”, particularly in the Engineering department, and “‘the liberal [ethos of JMI] was slowly isolated’”; and that, “arrival of teachers trained at AMU led to the rise of ‘class consciousness’ on the campus, thereby jeopardising JMI’s vision of a ‘classless society’” (pp. 192-193). The JMI’s Department of Education excelled for as long as the AMU alumni weren’t recruited as JMI’s faculty. This is demonstrated here by the author’s well-tabulated data.
Laurence Gautier, while expounding on the student politics of AMU during 1965-1981, looks upon the minoritarian assertion as politics of pluralising the Indian democracy and that it was also the case with non-Muslim Indians, the Hindu OBCs, who were asserting their rights to a share in the structures and processes of power and were articulating their grievances against “Nehruvian Consensus”. To contain such assertions, Emergency was imposed, after which the Hindu Right gained legitimacy as well as registered rise and expansion, also funded by the Hindu diaspora.
Cunning craft of the Qaum’s elites: nationalizing local issues for self-perpetuation
This raises a question as to why and how the local AMU issue of reservation for “internal” students in AMU enrolments, a discrimination in favour of the privileged, was cunningly made into a larger problem the Muslim communities across India, in 1965? This cunning craft of the descendants of the “Kutcherry Milieu” needs to be decoded minutely. This particular clique of the Qaum had kind of forced Sir Syed to shun progressive religious reformism as much as also to withdraw the welfaristic (charitable) Waqf Bill (1879). Yet, all such forces succeeded in taking over his College almost completely, soon after his death in 1898. Some of them, without subscribing to his modernist reformism, had opportunistically and tactically aligned with Sir Syed because he had access to the high echelons of the colonial administration up to the Viceroy and his legislative council.
Chapter Two is particularly more nuanced because it makes a very fine distinction between the visions of Nehru (the Prime Minister), Maulana Azad (the Education Minister) and Zakir (the Vice Chancellor) around the question of what kind of role should and would AMU play in the post-Partition period. In a polite and skillfully understated manner (English is anyway said to be a language of the under-statement), Gautier has articulated the tension between the liberal state, Muslim state actors (often derided as the Sarkari Musalman) and the Muslim Right Wing on and off the campus.
Interestingly, while the sarkar (state) and the Sarkari Musalmans attempted at combining the goals of educational uplift of the Muslims as well as helping Muslims acquire liberal-pluralist outlook, the Muslim Right Wing was geared towards preserving and promoting regressivism and emotive priorities than on any educational uplift. That minority regressivism remained a contributory factor towards strengthening Hindu majoritarianism, is still a less addressed aspect in academia and in the popular domain. Not without substance, the Liberal- Left academic and political forces are often charged of going silent or soft on Muslim regressivness.
Socio-political movements and silence on the campus on caste among Muslims
While discussing social justice movements and backward caste assertions, the relevant chapter of this book does not, it appears, adequately engage with the layered dynamics of the JP Movement and Anti-Emergency resistance. As to how much or less AMU and JMI identified with or stayed away from those movements? The student activists turned mainstream politicians of the era have been interviewed by the author. While bringing out polyphonic voices on these campuses on the question of caste, the dominant narratives on the campuses have almost denied existence of such a discriminatory practice. The AMU and JMI were almost equally aloof in 1990 when there were direct clashes across the country among the students on the implementation of the Mandal Commission Recommendations, despite the fact that as many as 82 communities of Muslims were to benefit from the implementation of the Mandal Report, in 1990.
The narratives within Muslim politics generated out of and sustained within AMU, needs further probing. It needs no particular mention that many Muslim leaders emerged on mainstream Indian electoral politics out of these agitations on AMU issues in the 1960s and 1970s. Some of the names are: Arif M Khan, Azam Khan, Javed Habib (d. 2012), and of course leaders such as Abdul Jalil Faridi (1913-1974), Ilyas Azmi (1934-2023), and scores of Muslim leaders (including the theologians) across the country. Remember the lines of Lelyveld & Minault (1974) that the AMU was a “profoundly political enterprise”.
Laurence Gautier clearly demonstrates that before the Emergency (i.e., during 1972-1974) and after it (1977-1981), Muslims, around the AMU campus and related issues, emerged as the interlocutor between the Qaum and the Indian State. Soon after that, the Muslim bodies or pressure groups such as the AIMPLB (founded in April 1973), and BMAC/BMCC emerged on the scene. I repeat, the Muslim politics of nationalising the local issues, and secondly, the formation of pressure groups least for educational uplift and empowerment and more for emotive cultural politics, speak tellingly of the priorities of Muslim politics, among north Indian Muslim elites. This also reminds me of an assertion of Theodre P Wright Jr about the Muslim politics in India, raising the question of whether the Muslim minorities can actualise more of their goals through pressure groups rather than through electoral party politics. Paul Brass and Harry Blair, endorsing Wright, are inclined to suggest that the pressure groups yield better results.
Gender Issues: dominance of regressive patriarchy and retrogression
Chapter seven (on gender) is forthright in stating that “In the 1970s, Islamist groups gained increasing influence on campus as they sought to promote adherence to ‘Íslamic values’, including with regard to men-women relations’’ (p. 375) and “At JMI, the SIMI gained popularity among a part of the student body thanks to their firm stance against the state’s interference in Muslim Personal Law” (p. 379). A fairly distinct reactionary patriarchy prevailed on the campus, in which the Islamists having been dominant and hegemonic forces on the both campuses, neither pushed for reforms from within nor did they allow the state to intervene in favour of gender justice. Women, including the various shades of feminists (except among a miniscule sections of the Left) remained ‘guardians of tradition’ rather than ‘actors of change’.
The author candidly states that “The Shah Bano controversy had a deeply divisive impact both at JMI and at AMU” (p. 378). The author however avoids saying that the divisive impact was not confined within the two ‘Muslim’ campuses. Rather the stubbornness of the Muslim conservatives and reactionaries was going to change the whole grammar, syntax and vocabulary of politics across the country in the days to come. This eventually came to be confessed even by Ali Miyan Nadvi (1914-1999), one of the prominent villains of the Shah Bano dispute. The narratives of the vulnerability of the Muslims were falsified by their power to arm-twist the regime to legislate against the Supreme Court verdict of April 1985. The two campuses, in effect, stood by or capitulated before such reactionary forces, subsequently contributed, in whatever degree, by pushing India towards the grip of majoritarianism. The narrative-making elite (Kutcherry Milieu) of India’s Muslims is yet to persuade the Qaum to bring in reforms from within or let the state do the needful. Needless to add, many such reforms have already been carried out in most of Islamic countries. Yet, the reactions of the dominant Muslim elite to date, are as outrageous as were in the 1970s and 1980s. Most recently, one could see this in the S[h]ayera Bano Case (2017) as much as in the latest Supreme Court verdict of July 10, 2024. In this specific regard, it is difficult to share the optimism that the author has sanguinely articulated in the last two pages (pp. 388-389) of the chapter of the book.
Chapter seven appears to be implicitly rather kinder to Muslim conservatives in a very limited sense. The author seems to suggest (p. 380) that “the growing militancy of the Hindu right” and the BJP support to UCC, kind of forced some Muslim progressives to promote reform from within. To some extent, fair enough. However, please pay attention to these words of Saumya Saxena (2018, p. 424): “the first battle of Muslim personal law was fought in the 1970s rather than the 1980s”. The AIMPLB came into existence in April 1973. It was outcome of a series of Muslim protests in late 1972 against state interference in reforming the laws regarding adoption of child and maintenance to divorced women. The Muslim Right Wing was in the forefront of such protests and in formation of the AIMPLB. The academics of the Islamic Studies, Theology, Law, Gender Studies, of the two universities haven’t yet explained to the Qaum that Instant Triple Talaq (divorce; ITT) is Un-Quranic, that maintenance is not Un-Islamic, that adoption per se isn’t prohibited in Quran, it only prohibits concealing the biological paternity of the child adopted, that it won’t be anti-Islamic to give equal share to the daughters in inheriting parental assets. These highly paid academics benefitting from funds of the secular state haven’t come out in open against the reactionary theologians exposing them about their stances on these abovementioned issues. Thus, their silence or silent support to the reactionary theologians is undermining the secularization processes, which eventually provides fodder to majoritarianism.
On certain aspects, this book has preferred to spare the two denominational universities, in exposing their flip sides, such as their deficit (self-chosen?) in academic output on the most immediate concerns regarding caste, gender, Minority conservatism, communalism and isolationism-exceptionalism). Do they really deserve this much of empathy?
Muslims in their political articulation talk of their victimisation, and discrimination but in terms of academic output of the AMU, we have rightly been accused by Omar Khalidi that there is “absence of interest in Indian Muslim issues at the three departments”, viz., Economics, Sociology and Political Science.
Political priorities of the AMU-JMI elites have been to generate agitations more intensely about emotive and identitarian issues. Their narrative-making politics has prioritised emotive issues and of lack of criminal justice system in the anti-Muslim communal pogroms, besides underrepresentation in education, public employment, legislative and other institutions. But they have chosen largely not to conduct researches on such issues, in order to make stronger advocacy, as indicted by Omar Khalidi (2010), in his academic audit of the research production of AMU.
How do we explain this (mis)prioritization? Can we not see certain kind of politics played out by the elites of Muslims against its own wider community? This deficit among AMU-JMI elites (the narrative-makers) on those counts is contributing to the skewing of political priorities, fuelling of prejudices, fears and apprehensions. Arguably, our own forthright incompetence and mediocrity, that has harboured a less competitive, more cocooned spaces, in terms of enrolments, recruitments, promotions, etc., within these “Muslim” campuses is a cause?
Anti-democratic governance structure of AMU: An incestuous club
The governance structure within AMU is such that it has been helping it, through dangerous and malicious inbreeding, inside the Executive Council (has got almost 80% of its members from among its own faculty), up to the level of empanelling its VCs (without inviting application from outside through an advertisement), to protect, promote and perpetuate the interests of a small club of Muslim elites (Kutcherry Milieu). The narrative-generating elites of both universities as well as of the theological seminaries of these regions, increasingly confined mostly to western UP and Bhojpuri speaking districts of UP (such as Azamgarh), are also home to some of the noted Islamic seminaries. In contrast, the BHU has got all its EC members nominated by the Union government since the 1950s. AMU is the only University where certain teachers continue in certain administrative offices for far too long — even over a decade –with preposterously poor academic credentials. Successive internal VCs perpetuate and strengthen these cliques and clouts rather than launching a crackdown against these debilitative lobbies.
Record preservation in AMU leaves much to be desired. Had it been preserving the day-to-day resolutions and transactions of the AMU Students’ Union and of the AMU Teachers’ Associations and other such formal and informal pressure groups, lobbies and clouts (including the sub-regional ones) within AMU, the practice would have helped for academic researchers to bring out the layered details of the political-ideological character and Qaum’s misplaced priorities and the huge disjunction of aspirations between the elites and the people of the Qaum.
Taking forward from the insights provided by Laurence Gautier, a sequel volume along these lines on the two campuses, or even taking into account more of the “Muslim” campuses can well be a research project worth taking up. A hint (p. 236, Table 5.1) at tardy, slow, lackadaisical and reluctant efforts of the Muslim elites of western UP in establishing Muslim minority educational campuses and educational trusts, compared to the laudable efforts of their counterparts in southern and western India, is a question of deeper concern that requires consideration.
Sadly, Uttar Pradesh’s Muslim elites compare very unfavourably even with the Bihar Muslim elite which is otherwise identified as poorer and backward. In this specific table of educational initiatives of Muslims, post-partition, Kerala tops it all in terms of establishing total number of Muslim colleges until the early 1980s. Tamil Nadu is far ahead despite having the least percentage of Muslim population. They created quality Muslim educational institutions out of the secular laws of Trusts rather than the self-perpetuating “scam” called Waqf-e-Aulad. Thus, the already short share of the south Indian enrolments in AMU kept falling further.
With such tabulated data of the book under discussion, I propose before the academics, researchers and commentators that a precise gaze on, and scrutiny of, the roles of the Muslim elites of UP, and their dominance/hegemony in the narrative-making power/entitlements of Muslim politics is awaited.
Another significant question to be raised here is: why the newly independent liberal state of India was more favourably inclined towards the ex-Leaguers than towards the consistent Congressite Muslims? Were they greater vote-catchers for the ruling Congress than the consistent Congressites? If so, then what does it tell us about the Muslim politics and its elites? Such a proposition is prima facie provocative but the differential treatments in terms of supplying state fund to the JMI and AMU does testify this proposition. There are many more of such evidence in terms of scores of the overnight turncoats among the UP Muslim leaders, such as Begum Qudsia Aizaz Rasul (1908-2001), not to say of similar testimony in the Urdu novels of Abdus Samad, Do Gaz Zamin and Khwabon Ka Sawera.
In summing up, this wonderfully well-researched book offers profound and nuanced exploration of the socio-political dynamics of AMU and JMI (north Indian Muslim middle classes and elites) since 1947. It provides valuable insights into the evolving landscapes of the politics of Muslim communities in India. This is indeed an important resource for scholars to elaborate upon many aspects outlined in this book pertaining to the polyphonic voices on almost every important issue which the Muslim communities are grappling with. Thus, this engrossing read offers many promises to open up several unchartered layers of the politics of India’s Muslim communities, waiting to be opened up, with even more courage. The post-independence incarnates of the “Kutcherry Milieu” are waiting to be dissected, x-rayed and held accountable in order to make a new move in a menacingly majoritarian rightward shift of India. The increasingly atrophying Liberal-Left too needs to rethink their hitherto flawed treatment of Muslim regressivism. It is already too late.
[Note: This is an abridged version of the draft presented as a panel discussion on the book, in the India International Centre (IIC), New Delhi, on 28 August 2024].
(The author is a Professor of History, Aligarh Muslim University)
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