| Privatization has become more than simply a catchword or a gimmick. It is becoming an all-purpose curative like penicillin. No longer is it simply the palliative to an economic malaise. It can be applied to a number of other areas in the event of a disfunction. If a public sector industry does not work efficiently, privatize it. If the nationalized banks are no longer solvent, privatize them. If the Government cannot open new schools or universities, let the private sector door that job for the state. If the Government cannot provide health, social welfare, essential services, telecommunications, education, and even personal security, then privatize these responsibilities – or better still, let the citizens fend for themselves. If they want bread, let them bake their own cakes. |
| Nowhere has the initiative now naturally expected of the private sector been so clearly demonstrated than in the field of historical research. Gone are the days when Universities or Colleges were centres of learning and knowledge; gone are the days when serious research was the necessary adjunct to a professor’s post. Gone are the days when academics or institutions fostered research. Today, research has become an individual pursuit just as scholarship has become a personal cause and authorship a painful, private crusade. |
| No book in recent times symbolizes that spirit of private commitment and determination more forcefully than Dr. Syed Zafar Haider’s work of definitive scholarship on ‘Islamic Arms and Armour of Muslim India,’ for over the years since the late Dr. Zafar haider first became interested in the subject, he has pursued his thesis with steadfast dedication. A medical doctor by training, Dr. Haider applied almost forensic skills to his studies and spent over a decade sourcing material from public and private museums in London, Vienna, Cracow in Poland, the Topkapi Saray Museum in Istanbul, Copenhagen, and in normally inaccessible collections. |
| Most of these collections constituted the residual debris of colonial connections, often war-trophies exacted by the victors. The famous Clive collection kept at Powis castle, for example, contained mostly riches belonging to Tipu Sultan which has been appropriated by Lord Clive after the fall of Seringapatam in May 1799. Similarly, the royal collection of oriental arms and armour amassed by King Edward VII when Prince of Wales, and displayed first at Marlborough House in London before being shifted to Sandringham House, was the accumulation of pacifist acts of submission by native Indian princes. |
| Viewing these collections in situ inevitably cannot convey the equality of the workmanship and skill which went into the production of individual pieces, and they were after all separate pieces, more often than not designed for an individual as much for protection, as an ornamental part of his formal attire. Seeing them splayed on walls – blunted arrows radiating around a shield or the begrimed blades of swords nestling protectively like segments of a peeled orange – is to see them in a state not of display but of defeat. Weapons, though, were designed to be used, to be worn, to be fought with or for, and to be the instruments of valour. And it is this very aspect – their dramatic martial quality – which Dr. Haider has emphasized in his superbly documented book. |
| The book is divided into two sections, the first covering Armour and the second Arms. Tracing changes in weaponry over the period from the time of the invasion of Sindh by Mohammad Bin Qasim in 710 AD until the advent of the Mughals over seven centuries later, Dr. Haider using every pictorial evidence available – from illustrated miniatures, stucco statuettes, engraved dishes, salvers, and rare ceramic bowls – has made a convincing reconstruction of the evolution of local weaponry as it responded to changing needs and the dictates of fashion. |
| It would be a truism to assert that the less functional a weapon became, the more florid its design and decoration were likely to be. Just as one would not trust a cook who sported long flapping sleeves, one would not have expected a Mughal nobleman to be sentimental about his weaponry or to rhapsodise, as his emperor Jahangir did, over the iridescent qualities of a specially commissioned and for that moment favorite dagger: ‘One hilt came out coloured in such a way as to create astonishment. It turned out of all the seven colours, and some of the flowers looked as if a skilful painter had depicted them in black lines around it with a wonder working pencil. In short, it was so delicate that I never wish it to be apart from me for a moment.’ Insights such as these glint within the text of the book and make it fascinating reading. |
| The greatest strength of Dr. Haider’s book lies beyond doubt in the scientific analysis he has made of every kind of Islamic armament and weaponry associated with the subcontinent. If writing about swords, he has identified at least ten different elements of the hilt or gabza, distinguishing on the pommel between the kanqan and the phool and the katori guard. He has recor4ded the subtle changes in the linear shape of swords over the centuries in a clever genealogical chart showing how the flat-bladed swords evolved over the centuries into the more stylish undulating talwars closer to our modern time. |
| Every piece of equipment receives such critical examination and classification. Bows and arrows, knives (over 17 separate styles are listed and discussed), shields, macess, battle or saddle axes, spears (15 types have been mentioned), fire arms, pennants, and little known battle formations of infantry and cavalry groupings are scrupulously documented, elevating this volume from being a monograph to being perhaps the most definitive modern treatise on Islamic Arms and Armour. |
| Dr. Haider’s book is all the more valuable for as he mentioned in his preface, most of the weaponry which fell into the hands of foreigners was melted down for its metal. One will never know how many finer pieces were callously destroyed or vandalized. One can only conjecture now about the extent of the output achieved by those anonymous artisans and craftsmen. Whose skill and expertise and the long days of their lives were, like precious gold they incised into blades of steel, damascened into their very works. |
| Dr. Haider’s book has been dedicated to the shuhada of Islam. In a sense, that dedication is equally applicable to him, for his book is in every respect an act of supreme faith. His life was devoted to researching it and to supervising its publication. He passed away quite suddenly, a few cruel months before its actual release. His devoted companion and wife Subohi completed what he had so brilliantly begun, and has enabled those who value our historical heritage, who respect erudition and who admire the selfless endeavour of the lonely inwardly-inspired scholar, to benefit from his immeasurable contribution. |
| The book is more than a brilliant work of scholarship; it is a poignant reminder of the premature loss of a scholar of distinction before he could establish the reputation he so richly deserves. |
| Printed in THE FRONTIER POST – Weekend Post, 17 Jan 1992.] |
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