How the Use of Marijuana Was Criminalized and Medicalized, 1906-2004: A Foucaultian History ... Book

Aatish Taseer is the estranged Indian son of the murdered Pakistani politician Salmaan Taseer. This book is a travelogue that doubles as a memoir of their troubled relationship. Taseer was a disciple of Naipaul and this book bears his influence. It can't be as good as Naipaul's Islamic travelogues. But it's still quite good. There is admittedly a lot that one could criticize about this book, which is a scathing appraisal of life in several Muslim-majority countries based on experiences that range from limited to cursory. Given the critical mood that I've been in though, I found it satisfying.

The parts of the book which Taseer spends in Syria, Turkey and a Muslim neighborhood of England were so limited that I felt drawing any conclusions at all from them were presumptuous. His conversations in some countries seemed to amount to one single provocative person. He gets a little more traction in Iran and I think touches on some things that are true about the pain and hypocrisy of living under a theocracy, even if his experiences were still confined mainly to a circle of young urbanites. In Pakistan however I felt that his book really hit the nail on the head. He was less limited in that country by language or access. The hypocrisy and denuded spirituality of the Islam of the Pakistani elite was depicted powerfully. I found some of his descriptions quite haunting since I have recognized them myself.

Aatish's estranged father, Salman Taseer, comes across in this book as a bit of a lowlife. Not only did he abandon his son and coldly respond to his later entreaties, he continued philandering and profiteering off political connections throughout his life. His religion was apparently a despiritualized, bigoted and nationalistic Islam that he did not even believe in as a religious creed. He is rude, offensive and prejudiced more or less across this entire account. His son didn't hold back in quoting his words, to say the least, and if this man was an exemplar of Pakistan's civilian governing class it explains a lot about their track record. Having said all that, despite the terrible way he lived, Salman Taseer died nobly. There's redemption potentially at hand for everyone.

Although some of Taseer's conclusions in this book were clearly a bit sweeping, it doesn't hurt that he is quite capable of eloquently turning a phrase. Even if he might've been wrong about some things it is an enjoyable read. I found myself quite immersed in some passages and was interested in his groping attempts to reconnect with his father. I also liked his accounts and contrasts between India and Pakistan after Partition. The book would've been stronger just based on these two countries, as opposed to tossing in all the others. I'll plan to read more of his work.