Thespian Zia Mohyeddin
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A brief biography
Omer Farooq Khan TNN, February 14, 2023: The Times of India
Islamabad : Thespian Zia Mohyeddin was the legendary Pakistani actor, producer, director, television broadcaster, and author whose career spanning six decades included memorable roles in Oscar-winning ‘Lawrence of Arabia’ and ‘Bombay Talkie’.
He was the first Pakistani ever to work in Hollywood — as Tafas, the Arab guide shot byOmar Sharif in David Lean’s ‘Lawrence of Arabia’ (1963), followed by ‘Behold the Pale Horse’ in 1964 with director Fred Zinnemann and the Merchant and Ivory ‘Bombay Talkie (1970). He starred in British director Jamil Dehlavi’s ‘Immaculate Conception’ (1994) and the critically acclaimed mini-series, ‘The Jewel in the Crown’ (1984). Author of three books, including ‘A Carrot is a Carrot’, he was a master orator who travelled the world reciting Urdu poetry and readingUrdu prose, a genre in which he commanded vast knowledge and respect.
Honoured with Pakistan’s top civilian awards — Sitara-iImtiaz in 2003 and Hilal-i-Imtiaz in 2012 — Mohyeddin was a multifaceted genius of the arts, but theatre was his lifetime passion. As the founding chair and later president emeritus of Pakistan’s National Academy of Performing Arts (NAPA), he mentored some of the country’s biggest acting talents. “His life was all about theatre, the all-encompassing passion he had for it. It kept him alive,” said popular Pakistani actor Fawad Khan, a NAPA graduate.
Born in 1931 in Faisalabad in Punjab province, Mohyeddin studied theatre at London’s Royal Academy of Dramatic Arts (RADA) and made his West End debut as Dr Aziz in ‘A Passage to India’, the stage play adaptation of EM Forster’s book, running 302 performances from April to December 1960. He returned to Pakistan in the late 1960s, but remained associated with British film and theatre for 47 years. He had dual citizenship, Pakistani and British.
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Aneela Z Babar, February 21, 2023: The Times of India
Sometime in early February, suffering from what I can only understand as a 1980s-induced PTSD, I called up my cousin with great urgency. I was flabbergasted that my friends had decided to name their baby ‘Zia’. Why on earth would you name your child after the tyrant? But my cousin tried to cheer me up, ‘Take heart, perhaps they meant to pay tribute to Zia Mohyeddin?’
It did the trick. Of course, not all Zias are alike. If one Zia throttled all that was beautiful about the Pakistani arts and culture, the other cultivated and fostered a love for Urdu literature among global audiences by introducing them to the magic of Urdu poetry and prose. This Zia, through his performances, made it possible for generations of South Asians to appreciate the wizardry and philosophy of the written and spoken word, be it those of Faiz Ahmad Faiz or Shakespeare.
The revered actor, writer, director, producer, broadcaster and linguist was raised by a father who himself was fond of writing and music. (Some reports claim that he was one of the first professors of music at Lahore’s University of Punjab.) While his own college dramatics club turned Mohyeddin down, with a curious belief that debaters don’t make for actors, his acting grew to perfection at the Royal Academy of Dramatic Art at London from 1953 to 1956.
A local legend and a foreign import
Mohyeddin made his West End theatre debut with A Passage To India in 1960 and went on to be part of many prestigious stage productions. In 1962, for instance, he made his film debut in Lawrence of Arabia , playing the role of Arab guide Tafas. (He was the first Pakistani to appear in Hollywood.) This was followed by a role in the British TV series Man in a Suitcase and playing Dr Aziz in the TV series version of A Passage to India .
There were other memorable performances in Alexander Mackendrick’s Sammy Going South (1963); Fred Zinnemann’s Behold a Pale Horse (1964); Basil Dearden’s Khartoum (1966); Ralph Thomas’ Deadlier Than the Male (1966); Tony Richardson’s The Sailor from Gibraltar (1967); Freddie Francis’ They Came from Beyond Space (1967); and Peter Hall’s Work Is a Four-Letter Word (1968). A decade later, courtesy video recordings, Mohyeddin found a loyal audience in South Asian households.
It is said that he would always tell visitors in the UK how homesick he was for Pakistan. By the late 1960s, he was back in Pakistan, where he set up the Pakistan International Airlines Arts and Dance Academy. This was also the period when he began to host the hugely popular television talk show, The Zia Mohyeddin Show .
I recall reading about Mohyeddin’s restless energy. How he became credited for setting the microphone free while hosting the show, which was a departure from the staid anchors of the time. In her elegy to the thespian, the culture critic Mira Hashmi quotes Mohyeddin referring to this chapter of this life as one where he realised how he became a voice for his generation:
“The significant aspect of a talk show is to make people speak, speak the truth, something rare in Pakistan where people are used to hiding facts.” In a sense, he personified Faiz’s “Bol Ke Lab Azaad Hain” (Speak, for your lips are free).
The advent of martial law, however, courtesy his namesake Gen Zia-ul-Haq — in which he suspended political parties, banned labour strikes and introduced press censorship — ensured that a return to England was inevitable. He remained in the West until the late 1990s when another dictator (Gen Pervez Musharraf) invited him to return home and form the National Academy of Performing Arts (NAPA) in Karachi.
While in the UK, Mohyeddin directed Here Today, Here Tomorrow , an insightful study of the Asian community for British TV audiences. However, what he will be best remembered for is introducing his audiences to the world of Mirza Ghalib, Faiz, Noon Meem Rashid, Ibn e Insha, Patras Bokhari, among others.
The legacy
Mohyeddin’s stint with NAPA lasted till his last breath. In Pakistan, he remained active in training and directing new talent, dying with his acting and directing boots on, at 91.
Those who had trained under him speak about his meticulous attention to detail. “Zia sahib’s ear was alert to every micro inflection, every twist of a less-than-perfect pronunciation,” wrote the actor-writer Mira Sethi who had trained with him. “To me, diction is the most important thing. This you can only learn after studying the classics. Once you know your diction, you are capable of doing anything,” is how Mohyeddin explained the actor’s craft.
In interviews, he would say that work is life for him. “Jab tak dum mai dum hai kaam karte raho warna tou savaye mayoosio k aur savai majboori k aur jo halat aaj kal ke dekh rahe hai” (Work until there is life in your breath otherwise seeing the state of this world what is there but disappointments and oppression).
Signing off with Mir Taqi Mir’s words:
jab nām tirā lījiye tab chashm bhar āve
is zindagī karne ko kahāñ se jigar āve
(the eye wells up taking your name, from where does one get the courage to live?)
Perhaps what his fans will most miss is his year-end tradition of reciting literature to a group of invitees in Lahore’s Ali auditorium. Much like the Iranian tradition of Shab e Yalda, where families and friends recite Hafiz during the winter solstice, Mohyeddin would spend the last night of the year captivating audiences with his command over reading and recitation.
The beauty of Zia Mohyeddin is that his admirers know no geographical boundaries when it comes to his craft. He even had a staunch following in India. He was also a frequent speaker at the Jashn-e-Rekhta — an annual gathering to celebrate the Urdu language. In their tribute, the foundation wrote, “Today, we haven’t lost a man; we’ve lost an institution - Zia Mohyeddin”.
To me, his legacy is what Toni Morrisson wrote once about James Baldwin: “In your hands language was handsome again. In your hands we saw how it was meant to be: neither bloodless nor bloody, and yet alive.”
