Those that dare to defy

In the history of the struggle for press freedom in Pakistan, several names stand out: Ahfaz ur Rahman, Amar Jaleel, Fareeda Hafeez, Farhad Zaidi, Hameed Chhapra, Habib Ghauri, Hussain Naqi, I A Rehman, Mehnaz Rehman, Minhaj Burna, Nisar Usmani, Nasir Zaidi, Khawar Hashmi, Iqbal Jafri, Masoodullah Khan, Shehnaz Ahad, Zaheda Hina and many others. Some of these iconic figures have passed on, while others are now in the twilight of their lives.

Dr Jafar Ahmed has taken on the vital task of preserving the oral histories of progressive and secular activists, intellectuals, journalists and leaders. He has compiled, edited and published books based on in-depth interviews with the likes of Hasan Abidi, Karamat Ali, my father Rashad Mahmood, and many others. One of his recent works, ‘Juraat-e-Inkaar’ (Dare to Defy), focuses on Hussain Naqi. These projects are supported by the Institute of Historical and Social Research (IHSR) at Suhail University.

Now approaching 90, Hussain Naqi remains active and outspoken. Though age has naturally slowed him down, he still moves with remarkable zest. I consider myself fortunate to have known him closely for many years, largely thanks to my father, a left-wing political activist since the 1940s. When Dr Jafar compiled his book based on interviews with my father, Hussain Naqi presided over the launch ceremony organised by the Human Rights Commission of Pakistan (HRCP) in Karachi in 2022. In 2023, Naqi received a lifetime achievement award named after Ahfaz ur Rahman, presented by his family – who requested my father to do the honours.

My father passed away in 2024 at the age of 92. We’re lucky to still have Hussain Naqi among us. I’ve also had the privilege of accompanying both I A Rehman and Hussain Naqi on a few HRCP fact-finding missions. Naqi, deeply read in history, literature and philosophy, is not just an activist but a thinker who remains intellectually committed to leftist ideals. While many progressive activists lost hope after the collapse of the Soviet Union and the disintegration of the socialist bloc, Naqi and I A Rehman remained steadfast in their advocacy for human rights and freedom of expression.

Naqi continues to stay informed about global and local developments. A man of principles, he has never chased wealth or power or compromised on his ideals. Journalists and thinkers like him are essential to the vitality of any society because a society thrives when its citizens uphold empathy, critical thinking and moral courage.

Dr Jafar’s interviews with Naqi capture his personality in all its depth. The book, ‘Juraat-e-Inkaar’, is structured as a series of conversations that delve into Pakistan’s longstanding socio-political and economic issues. Dr Jafar’s questions – probing and sincere – are met with candid, thoughtful responses. A recurring theme throughout the book is Pakistan’s failure to evolve into a truly democratic nation that respects human rights.

Naqi does not mince words in any of the interviews. He’s never been one to worry about offending the powerful – and he certainly doesn’t shy away from telling the truth. The book, published in 2025, is nearly 200 pages long, features some colour photographs, and is modestly priced at just Rs1,000. It’s a book worth reading more than once: a powerful reminder of the ongoing struggle for human rights and press freedom in Pakistan.

The battles waged by journalists and students to win and reclaim their right to speak and write freely have often come up against suppression by successive military and civilian governments. ‘Juraat-e-Inkaar’ is dedicated to Minhaj Burna, a stalwart defender of press freedom in Pakistan, whom Naqi counts among the leading lights of the journalistic community.

The book begins with memories of Lucknow, where Naqi spent his childhood. His parents had twelve children – six boys and six girls. His political awareness began early, around the age of 10, during the 1946 elections in Lucknow. At the time, Chaudhry Khaliquzaman represented the Muslim League, while Ali Zaheer ran under the Shia Conference banner. Ali Zaheer, incidentally, was the older brother of Sajjad Zaheer, one of the founders of the Progressive Writers Association.

Naqi recalls how women in Lucknow, due to cultural customs, were rarely seen in public and had to travel even short distances in a doli (palanquin) carried by porters. He narrates a fascinating anecdote from August 14, 1947, when Prince Yusuf Mirza, the grandson of Nawab Wajid Ali Shah, returned from Calcutta for a self-styled coronation ceremony organised by the Oudh Restoration Mission – as if the princely state of Oudh had been re-established. Sarojini Naidu, then the governor of UP, quickly dismissed the idea and advised the prince to return to Calcutta or face arrest. He wisely chose to board the next train.

Another poignant story involves Roshan Jahan from Sargodha, the first principal of the Muslim Girls College. After Partition, her brother came to bring her back to Pakistan, but she refused to leave. When PM Nehru visited the college, he offered her a large plot of land in exchange for her property in Sargodha, but she declined and continued her service. She even refused to collect her salary, spending it instead on building the college library.

Naqi fondly recalls his student days at Shia College, Lucknow, where he studied from the sixth grade to FSc. His activism began there, when he led a student strike against a principal who had mistreated a teacher. According to the education department policy, authorities would intervene if a strike lasted more than three days. In this case, the principal was compelled to apologise.

Naqi also began writing at an early age, contributing to a local newspaper about issues at his college. This marked the beginning of his journey as both an activist and a journalist. Interestingly, communal tensions were minimal in Lucknow – institutions like Islamia College, Shia College, and Sunni College welcomed students and teachers from all backgrounds. The head of the chemistry department at Shia College was a Sikh, Gurbachan Singh Sidhu, who later led the Indian Council of Scientific and Industrial Research.

Naqi migrated to Pakistan in 1953 and enrolled at DJ College in Karachi. There, his journalistic career took off as he joined the National Students Federation (NSF). At the time, Altaf Gauhar was the deputy commissioner of Karachi, and Abdul Wadood was a student leader who would later become a prominent leftist politician. Together, Naqi and Wadood launched a student magazine, ‘Talib-e-Ilm’, and wrote a book on the 1953 student movement.

Later, Naqi joined the PPI news agency for a modest salary and contributed to Karachi’s ‘Outlook’ magazine and Dhaka’s ‘Holiday’. For ‘Holida’y, he wrote several essays on Sindhi language and literature, for which he remains grateful to Ibrahim Joyo. When the daily ‘Anjaam’ was shut down, Naqi protested and was transferred by PPI to Hyderabad – where he again found himself in protest, eventually landing in the Lahore bureau.

In 1960, the government confiscated his passport, a restriction that remained until 1976.

There is much more in ‘Juraat-e-Inkaar’ than can be summarised here. In short: it is a compelling, courageous, and deeply insightful read – essential for anyone interested in the history of resistance, journalism and the fight for civil liberties in Pakistan.

The writer holds a PhD from the University of Birmingham, UK. He tweets/posts @NaazirMahmood and can be reached at: mnazir1964@yahoo.co.uk