A CASE OF EXPLODING MANGOES [Audio Cassette]

I don't know whether it's because of Empire, but the Indian subcontinent shares a great deal with the British sense of humour, switching without warning from irony to farce to pathos to outright tragedy.

A Case of Exploding Mangoes sounds like it belongs to the tradition of 'Carry on Up the Khyber', and in some ways it does (it enjoys being both silly and naughty), but the story it tells (of the mysterious assassination of Pakistani President Zia, and the mystery that no-one really seemed that interested in finding out who did it) is deadly serious.

As someone who lived in Pakistan during Zia's 'reign', I don't fully recognise the level of opression and paranoia presented in the book, but I have no doubt that the author (like the book's main protagonist, an army officer recruit in those days) saw things from a very different perspective.

It is hard to tell a story when one knows the ending already, but this book does it very, very well. The book even has time to take a crafty side-swipe at US foreign policy in the region: a character called 'OBL' appears at a party organised by the American ambassador to Pakistan and is clearly both an embarrassment and a vital part of America's 'secret' war with Russia in Afghanistan. That he may have become very, very rich through his partnership with the CIA is something best not thought about...

But at the heart of the story is this remarkable relationship between two men (well, boys, really), which grounds all the joking at Zia's expense in something so disarmingly touching that one cannot help but be emotionally invested in the unknown outcomes for these characters.

I would love to have dinner with Mohammed Hanif: I can't imagine that he is anything but as urbane, intelligent, sassy and just plain funny as this book is. So does it describe the state of a nation the way Midnight's Children and Shame do? No. It's having too much fun for that...

I had hoped to laugh heartily when reading this. Instead I read a book that was filled with subtle humour that when combined with everything in the book raised a smile. Yet this is not to detriment of the author. Instead it raises him from a mere comic author to a skilled writer which this century seems to be lacking.
Yet alongside is a story that is filled with sorrow. A slow developing relationship between two soldiers or as Hanif writes 'two scared boys' leaves you wondering whether Ali (the main protagonist) loves the other as a friend, a brother or a lover, and you never find out. It is this that provides the pathos to the novels quirkiness. The end made me, I'm not ashamed to say, weep and I still wish for that happy ending that never comes.
This was, however, everything it claimed to be. Much more than comedy, it was a damning portrayal of the leadership of Pakistan and the readiness of America to ally herself with anyone stemming the tide of the Red Menace, and a tragic story of an odd and enigmatic love.
It also tells the story of Pakistan, a country we forget about as we are tied up in Afghanistan and Iraq. It reminds us of the sad fates people that the media does not give attention to. In the wake of the treacherous killing of Bhutto it reminds of dictators that have yet to be toppled, especially as the General involved here is the very one that hanged Ali Bhutto and robbed the Pakistanis of a liberal democracy.
The cohesion of the plot appears to be flawed at first with chapters flitting between various characters suddenly and time moving between past and present without much warning. Yet kudos to Hanif who ties it up well and keeps the reader guessing until the very end.
A must-read but perhaps not the light-hearted summer read it appears to be. Nor does it have a happily ever after. Read this book with your mind and heart open, and be prepared- you may never trust a crow ever again.

Twenty years ago, a Pakistani military plane crashed under very shady circumstances, killing everyone on board, including the Generalissimo who had been running the county ever since the coup that deposed Zulfikar Bhutto. For most Westerners, this is one of those distant footnotes to history, barely remembered, if at all. However, one of the other passengers on that plane was a friend of my parents, making the episode one of those mysteries that's always stuck with me through the years. It's also one of those events that's acquired a rather robust mythology and body of conspiracy theories around it -- making it great fodder for a first novel.

The story starts several weeks before the crash, and introduces us to the soon-to-be-dead General Zia and his close associates, as well as to a pair of Pakistani Air Force cadets (one of whom is the main narrator), the U.S. Ambassador, a CIA agent, and a whole host of lesser characters (including, in a very brief but historically plausible cameo, Osama Bin Laden). Despite the relatively large cast of characters, almost all spring to life with remarkable vitality. From the barracks laundryman "Uncle Starchy," to an imprisoned enemy of the state (the head of the All Pakistan Street Cleaners Union), to General Zia's paratrooper bodyguard, and many others. This is no small achievement, and a vitally important one for a plot that brings together so many disparate motives and agendas.

Indeed, the plot is too complicated to fully describe, but basically General Zia has grown increasingly paranoid, and rightfully so, as a number of different people want him dead. To mention who or how or why would be to spoil the fun, suffice to say that the story focuses on two particularly devious plots, while other possibilities materialize out of carefully calibrated subplots. So, in a sense, this is a thriller -- even though the results are already known. However, it's also a black comedy in which the author has drawn deeply on his own experience as a Pakistani Air Force cadet in order to create a rich satire of the Pakistani military. Furthermore, the author's years as a journalist makes him particularly well-suited to aim his satire at the men of state, their machinations, and those good old days when the U.S. was funding the Afghan resistance to the Soviets. While a lot of this history is so tragic and inept you have to laugh, Hanif has the writing skills to create some moments of real comedy and fine wordplay as well.

The last several years has seen a resurgence of interest in this era, in books such as Steve Coll's excellent Ghost Wars or George Crile's Charley Wilson's War. Coll also wrote a much earlier book called On the Grand Trunk Road, based on his years as the South Asia correspondent for the Washington Post, which has a 25 page chapter devoted to his investigation of the crash. It's nice to be able to get some perspective from the Pakistani side, albeit in fictional form.