Since India’s independence, Aligarh Muslim University has faced repeated attempts to alter its status, reconstruct its identity and deny its minority character. 1965 was also a dramatic year for the university. Mohammedali Currim Chagla, the then education minister, had gained enough limelight for making accusatory statements against the university. Time and again, he also threatened to remove the word “Muslim” from the varsity’s name, scrapping the historical and cultural impression evoked when one hears the name of Aligarh Muslim University. No one knows whether it was a mere coincidence or a well-planned strategy that during his tenure, the Vice Chancellor of AMU, Nawab Ali Yavar Jung chose to pass a resolution reducing the internal students quota from 75% to 50%. This major change in the admission policy led to clashes between the students and the administration and was followed by police interventions in the campus, unfounded legal cases against the students, the dramatic sine die closure of the varsity and ultimately, the unfortunate AMU Amendment Act, 1965.
A history of contesting AMU’s minority identity
One of the most striking and revealing firsthand accounts of the turbulent events of 1965 is Hafeez Nomani’s Roodad-e-Qafs. Hafeez Nomani was a Lucknow-based journalist who had gained nationwide recognition for his Urdu monthly Nida-e-Millat. The revered stature of his father Maulana Manzoor Nomani made him well respected in the religious circles as well. As such, Nida-e-Millat enjoyed unusual acceptance among the Urdu-speaking people, from traditional and religious to modern and secular classes. When the 1965 events at AMU caught the attention of people across the country, a special edition of Nida-e-Millat was issued on the university. This edition featured articles and essays of intellectuals and scholars ranging from religious clerics like Maulana Abul Hasan Nadwi and Maulana Abdul Majid Daryabadi to former AMU VC Badruddin Tayyabji and retired HC Judge Shiv Prasad Singh. This issue of Nida-e-Millat, deemed to be no less than a crime by the Congress-led government, prompted the incarceration of Hafeez Nomani. After his release, he wrote a series of articles on his days in the prison, which was later published in book form as Roodad-e-Qafs in 2000.
At a time when AMU often makes it to the headlines for issues ranging from its minority character to the hindrances in its administrative and cultural autonomy, revisiting Nomani’s memoir provides insight into historical contexts, relevance and community responses to such narratives. A recent debate about the establishment of a police station inside the AMU campus and the raising of the slogans of Jai Shri Ram by a state minister in the university auditorium explains the political and cultural vulnerability of the campus. However, Nomani’s account establishes that this vulnerability and crisis is not something new. According to the memoir, when the police raided Asif Kidwai’s house, the serving editor of Nida-e-Millat, to seize the copies of the magazine, no one among the 252 cops could read Urdu. To sort out the problem, a constable named Abul Hashim was called. He was ordered to seize any paper which bore the words “Hindustan”, “Hindu-Muslim” or “Muslim University”. The draconian order gave the impression that even the name of Muslim University was worth an investigation. The incident explains that the hatred for AMU’s name is not something novel and cannot be interpreted merely by the change of ruling parties.
A prison memoir of resistance, courage and solidarity
One of the most inspiring parts of the book is about the role of Nomani’s wife in the distribution of the copies of the issue. When the surveillance around Nomani’s office and house increased, he and other members associated with Nida-e-Millat realised that the magazine could be seized at any moment. Thus, they felt the need to transfer some copies to a safe place, which could be then distributed elsewhere. Nomani handed over a suitcase to his wife, containing fifty copies of the magazine, draped in clothes. He asked her to take the suitcase to the bus stand and board the bus to Barabanki. If the police guards kept up with her until the bus departed, she was supposed to return to Lucknow soon after reaching Barabanki and take the copies to her father-in-law Maulana Manzoor Nomani’s house. However, the guards following her went back just after she boarded the bus and she stepped out and took the copies to her in-laws’ house. Her audacity and steadfastness in playing this courageous but less visible role echo the spirit of Begum Zeenat Mahal, Begum Hazrat Mahal, Bi Amma and many other women who stood by their husbands and sons in tough times, inspiring their activism and rejuvenating their zeal. This incident sets an example for women, as to how even a housewife can contribute to activism and revolutions. It also explains how the lives of revolutionaries, activists and reformers are influenced and backed by the support of their family members.
The memoir also recalls deeply personal events, capturing the human dimensions of the crisis. When the month of Ramadan approached, Nomani decided to organise taraweeh prayers inside the cell. He requested the fellow inmates of his cell to maintain silence for an hour and a half at night, so that he could pray peacefully. To his surprise, his cellmates happily agreed to his request. Nomani notes that despite the incidents of communal hatred and atrocities, which are reported almost every day, the prisoners demonstrated no such feelings. The walls of jail witnessed the harmony which the free and open air could not even dream of. Though Nomani had memorized the Qur’an while he was young, he had not led the taraweeh prayers for years. Thus, he was unsure whether he would be able to recite the Qur’an in prayers. However, he tried to regain the command over recitation and eventually, led the prayers himself. He was touched by the cooperation he received from the Muslim and Non-Muslim inmates alike. He reflects that many of those who participated in the religious activities during the Holy Month with him might never have done so before. Nomani also recollects some heart-warming stories and gestures of those days in the prison. He narrates the story of some Muslim prisoners who were condemned by their Hindu friends for not observing fasts in Ramadan. “If you all wouldn’t fast, Babuji (Hafeez Nomani) would think that we have made you convert to Hinduism. Therefore, you people should fast and pray and if you can’t do so alone, we are ready to fast with you”, said their Hindu friends. Thus, they too began participating in religious activities along with Nomani. Such events show how even the darkest days of life can spark the light of change and transformation in people’s lives.
Beyond politics: the enduring legacy of Roodad-e-Qafs
Ultimately, Roodad-e-Qafs emerges as much more than a personal prison account. In today’s age, it provides the historical context of the selective targeting of minority institutions. It also demonstrates the recurring sacrifices of Indian Muslims for the preservation of the intellectual, cultural and traditional legacy of Aligarh Muslim University. The account contextualises the sporadic controversies surrounding AMU and traces the pattern of arrests of activists, journalists and scholars which predates the present political dispensation. Exploring a wide spectrum of themes from the political conditions of the nation to the lives of people inside a jail, the memoir is a collection of poignant observations, personal experiences and historical reflections. It also inspires people to contribute to the causes of the community. Roodad-e-Qafs records the courage, bravery, sacrifices, faith and dedication which can help a person face the most difficult moments. The memoir deserves a wider readership among intellectuals, students and scholars concerned about the recent political, cultural and social developments in the country.
