“His name is Hamid”, wrote Sir Syed!

Aligarh of those days, they say, was a world apart. Sir Syed was the Director. Professor Arnold taught philosophy. Maulana Shibli was a Professor. Hali resided there. Theoder Beck was the Principal of the college. A spiralling nebula of the learned; Aligarh. And then a student came in.

 Muslim political power in Sub-Continent was a thing of past. But Muslim knowledge and culture was still present. Arabic and Persian were compulsory subjects for all students. Hamid came, and made an exception. Sir Syed wrote to Beck: He is Hamid; his command over Arabic and Persian equals your Professors. Exempt him from all classes of eastern sciences.” He was exempted. 

   

In Aligarh he learnt Modern philosophy from Arnold. Drenched in East-Muslim episteme, Hamid voyaged to discover the Modern-West. It wasn’t easy, as it sounds today. Learning English those days was heresy. Sulaiman Nadvi credits Hamid for the courage to commit this blasphemy.  

In his life ahead he committed many such blasphemes till a great scholar of the times passed a fatwa against him. One day Hamid heard of it, and gracefully set it aside. ” But the man doesn’t know me”, a sentence of a clincher from Farahi. Later Syed Sulaiman Nadvi threw himself into the matter, to clear the mist. Anyway, this is a detour. Back to Aligarh.

Long story short, Aligarh was a recovery spot for Sir Syed. He wanted to rebuild from the ruins. Preparing for times ahead, Sir Syed knew the worth of the accumulated capital. His interest in translating the classics of Muslim tradition gives a peek into his mind. When he laid his hands on a worn out, moth eaten manuscript of Gazzali, he decided to refurbish it. Everyday he sat with Shibli and Hali, to fix the effaced text. Some other copies of the same work, and the text before and after the missing, were the markers to retrace the lost words. Soon the trio found it gruelling, and gave up. Shibli suggested Hamid for the job. Just after some days Hamid came up with the manuscript. Sir Syed compared it with other copies of the work; dazed to find how exact, or how close, Hamid was in determining the lost text. ” How could you be so close”, Khan was bowled over. “Two things guided me in fixing the text; the context, and the language of Ghazali”, Hamid explained. Great events cast their shadows before. In his later life Farahi explored a whole new world by deciphering the language of Quran, and the importance of text and context in fixing the meaning of the Book. 

Shibli says that on the behest of Sir Syed, Hamid translated two biographies of the Prophet, from Arabic to Persian. Both were included in the syllabus of the theology course. The college was already drawing much from this student, before he went on to teach on the same campus.

An independent department for Arabic language was established in Aligarh, “under the new grant of Rs 1000 per month.” The grant was tied to a condition. Only a European should be appointed as the Professor for this department. That means a European was to lord the department.  Pay the piper, call the tune. And we Muslims still believe that in this intellectual, moral, and material penury we can rule the world. How little a distance we have covered from the times of Sir Syed; or have we slid back! 

Anyway Joseph Horovitz was appointed Professor of Arabic. Horowitz, a German, had a doctorate in Arabic. Farahi was posted as Assistant Professor.  Hierarchy apart, competence and  mastery over language determined the actual relationship between the two. Give credit to the European, mark his humility and eye for quality, he didn’t hesitate in drawing from his ‘subordinate’. Horovitz completed his education in Arabic language and literature from Farahi, who taught him the higher literature. In the department if any student turned to Horowitz saying that his assistant considers a particular verse flawed, he responded: “If Hamid say so, then it can only be flawed.”

Hamid did a trade off with Horowitz, whose mother tongue was Hebrew,  given his Jewish descent. Horowitz taught him Hebrew. This also helped Farahi to later unearth the text of Quran, since the two languages, Arabic and Hebrew, belong to the same family. 

Hamid’s life in Aligarh gives us two lessons. One, he believed in himself, and his tradition. But he didn’t discriminate between eastern and western when it came to knowledge. Two, he was ruthless when it came to searching out the facts. In this he didn’t spare his own tradition. He was an independent, unapologetic, and fearless seeker of knowledge. He was neither timid, nor snobbish. He was rigorous, and humble. In many ways he personified the ideal that Sir Syed, Iqbal, and Shibli were pursuing. 

Hamid wasn’t dazzled by the new, nor held back by the old. He applied his tools of research, with care, with craft, but without compassion. He wouldn’t take any ready made answers. He started with, ” I doubt”, earning him the name Professor Doubt.  

Hamid’s was a time Muslims in India were face to face with a treacherous void. The political power was gone. Now knowledge and civilisational marks were under assault. Post 1857 was a challenge of dealing with the wreckage. Multiple responses came to fore. Deoband was one; close yourself to the outside storm. Sir Syed was another: for the time, board the European ship. Iqbal, and Shibli was the third. Hold on to your own shores and jump into the raging waters of European knowledge. Lonely though, Hamid set himself sailing. The findings of the journey might be unsettling for many. 

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