Dara: A Magnificent Production of False Binaries
Mohamed-Zain Dada

Notwithstanding the flawless and beautiful production, Dara has helped to perpetuate the orientalist stereotype that orthodox Islam is antithetical to moral virtue
 
As the play Dara draws to a close at the National Theatre, critics have praised the theatre’s bravery in widening their cultural scope. The play, originally written by Shahid Nadeem and adapted by Tanya Ronder, examines the battle between two Mughal Princes, Dara Shikoh and Aurangzeb in their quest to rule the Mughal Empire. But rather than uniformly praising the National Theatre for giving a platform to actors of colour and showcasing histories from the Global South, giving Dara’s problematic content a pass would be unwise. The play’s central theme construes history to fit a particular narrative. The insidiousness of this narrative is that it is part of an agenda to construct what and who ‘the Muslim’ is today.
Before delving into the many issues with Dara, it would be a travesty not to point out that the production was magnificent. During the interval, Mast Qalandar rung out via the lungs of a supremacy talented Qawwali group, I wondered at the time if this magical moment could be somewhat seminal. As a second generation British Pakistani, my parents would play the heavenly vocal acrobatics of Qawwali’s chosen one: Nusrat Fateh Ali Khan. So to hear it at a theatre, somewhere white and middle class, somewhere that isn’t a packed hall full of South Asians in North London but in the heart of central London on the south bank, was brilliant.
The actual term Mast Qalandar is attributed to the wandering soul who is utterly enveloped in the love for God and this love manifests a sense of deliriousness in this person. Dara ordains its main protagonist and namesake, Dara Shikoh, with these transcendental qualities; qualities which are associated with the great sages, scholars and poets of Islam.  A power struggle ensues with his infamous brother Aurangzeb who is portrayed as a religious zealot. Dara is tried for apostasy and is ultimately martyred. Gasps ring out as Aurangzeb becomes emperor of Mughal India.
What is presented as a binary struggle between the values of the Sufi and the zealot is deeply problematic. We are introduced to Aurangzeb as he solemnly observes one of his five daily prayers. Aurangzeb then authoritatively states the importance of combating the desires of temptation in conquering the self. In contrast, Dara is described as the transient who spends most of his time writing mystical poetry. The audience is given these categorisations which rarely veer into any noticeable caveats – we are presented with Aurangzeb the puritanical and strict versus Dara the lover of high art.
There is a prominent fakir or beggar in the play whose humble status has granted him the power of immense wisdom and foresight. The character was an Armenian Jew who viewed Islam’s mystical doctrines as key to attaining closeness to God without necessarily adopting Islamic law. Viewing faith in this kaleidoscopic lens was not uncommon in South Asia, with Hindus and Muslims alike often worshipping at burial sites of religious saints. The fakir was noticeably dressed in what could only be described as attire that resembles the dress of Mowgli from The Jungle Book. His nakedness was used to signal the ways in which religious jurists tend to focus on the outward whilst negating the inward. This is an important point to make regarding the nature of religiosity, but it’s a shame Dara did not identify the necessary symbiotic relationship of the inward and the outward, particularly in Islam.
Moreover, the use of the fakir’s nakedness fit in perfectly with the central narrative of the play. Ultimately, Dara’s argument is that it does not matter what you wear for it’s the inward that matters. Of course the inward matters, but the conscious attempt to separate ‘Sufi Islam’ from ‘Orthodox Islam’ implied that outward appearance or actions meant nothing. This was no more exemplified than in the way the fakir mockingly exclaims that if outward appearance mattered than why aren’t animals wearing the hijab? The question the fakir posed inevitably had some pertinence with an audience made up of predominantly middle class white people who have probably privately expressed some befuddlement as to why Muslim women cover their hair. It certainly struck a chord; the audience responded with rapturous laughter. The subtext was self-evident: in today’s world there is a place for faith albeit in a form that suits the state.
This battle of the two Islams comes to a dramatic crescendo in the court scene where Dara pleads his case against a prosecutor accusing him of apostasy. Dara continues to preach the values of ‘Sufi Islam’ constructed by the writers of the play. What makes a Muslim, Dara asks us, before arguing that perhaps even the Prophet Muhammad (May Peace Be Upon Him) missed a prayer or two. The most telling thing about the entire exchange was the ways in which Dara made reference to scriptures being read in context and in the here and now. It is implied that in today’s world, perhaps praying five times a day is asking too much of humanity. So just stop being so extreme, it’s the inward that matters.
Without invalidating the inward, Dara is posing the British Muslim a challenge; that to live in the 21st century, to live in a liberal democracy and to live in the West, you have to make some concessions. With this in mind it is worth remembering when Dara’s being put on at the National Theatre – at a time when there are British Muslims leaving the UK to fight for ISIS in Syria, at a time when extremism is apparently rife. The danger with a play like Dara is that it perpetuates these categorising binaries of what Muslims are: moderate or extreme. The message Dara sends is that you cannot be a five times a day praying, hijab wearing Muslim who is fascinated by perennial philosophy and writes mystical poetry.
To the outsider, Dara is an attempt at presenting the dangers of ‘fundamentalist Islam’ vis a vis the friendly face of ‘Sufi Islam.’ Rather than providing nuanced character profiles, Dara’s message is very much political. Its unfortunate implicit thesis is that the British Muslim has a choice to make, and that choice is between Dara and Aurangzeb.

Photo credits: Ellie Kurttz
Mohamed-Zain Dada

Mohamed-Zain Dada

Mohamed-Zain Dada is a writer and poet based in North London.

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