Rebel English Academy
By Mohammed Hanif
Maktaba-e-Danyal
ISBN: 978-969-419-131-7
223pp.

Rumour says he is coming back. The coffin was locked. The burial supervised. The paperwork completed. Yet, somewhere in a dusty bazaar, someone swears former prime minister Zulfikar Ali Bhutto has been seen. A pamphlet circulates. A whisper grows. And suddenly, a military officer, hundreds of miles away, is being screamed at for failing to keep a dead man dead.

In Rebel English Academy, Mohammed Hanif opens up the charged space between fact and rumour, showing how, in Pakistan, political gossip is never just talk. Set in the days following Bhutto’s execution, the novel unfolds in the fictional OK Town, where grief, denial and opportunism mingle in the air, and whispers travel quickly — from tea stalls to offices, from mosque loudspeakers to private bedrooms.

Soldiers, clerics and ordinary citizens alike find themselves unsettled by the slogan “Bhutto Lives”. Hanif understands something we continue to witness today: power may control events, but it rarely controls the story that follows.

It is through people, not slogans, that this tension becomes visible. Hanif explores three lives that reflect different responses to power. The first is Sir Baghi, who embodies the exhaustion of failed rebellion. Once a fiery revolutionary who paid for his rhetoric with torture, he now runs a modest English academy in a mosque’s compound. The academy of the novel’s title is less a school than a scaled-down revolution, a space where rebellion survives in language when it can no longer survive in politics; here, Baghi’s revolution narrows into grammar lessons and small, stubborn principles, a form of survival that may still afford him some dignity.

Mohammed Hanif’s deeply satirical new novel, set in the days following former prime minister Zulfikar Ali Bhutto’s execution, uses three protagonists to explore ways of thinking about power

In contrast, Captain Gul represents a different kind of survival. Young, ambitious and slightly ridiculous, he works for the Field Intelligence Unit and dreams of becoming a legend whispered about in foreign capitals. Instead, he is posted to OK Town, where he must deal with slogans claiming “Bhutto Lives.” He is ordered to “make him go away” again, as if rumour requires a second burial. His bravado masks insecurity. He is loyal to the state but unsettled by how easily a whisper can undermine it.

Between these two men stands Sabiha Bano, who refuses both nostalgia and obedience. Once Baghi’s student and the daughter of a labour union leader, she re-enters his life carrying a pistol and difficult questions. Her essay Our Cow begins as a school exercise and turns into a charged memory of comrades, fire and impending violence. When she confronts Baghi and asks whether he is still the rebel people claim he was, she exposes the gap between his past and present. Sabiha is not content with nostalgia. She is impatient with compromise.

The academy of the novel’s title is less a school than a scaled-down revolution, a space where rebellion survives in language when it can no longer survive in politics.

It is in the friction between these three lives that the novel’s argument takes shape. Hanif does not linger on them merely for colour or subplot; each becomes a way of thinking about power. Through Baghi, we see what happens to rebellion when it survives but does not win. Through Gul, we see how authority performs strength while remaining anxious about legitimacy. Through Sabiha, we see the cost of inheriting both failure and force. Their stories are not digressions from the political moment, but its most intimate expression.

However, as the narrative expands in different directions, its momentum is occasionally unsettled by frequent shifts in perspectives and the sheer sprawl of voices and episodes. The narrative moves from Captain Gul’s cantonment theatrics to Baghi’s bruised introspection, from Sabiha’s essays to the spectacle of the alleged rumour-spreader’s burning.

In a town gripped by rumours and fear after the hanging of an ex-prime minister, stories do not unfold neatly. They collide, overlap and burn out mid-sentence. The fragmentation reflects a society where no life is allowed a single, uninterrupted narrative.

Hanif writes in a brisk, controlled style that carries the sharpness of his journalism. His sentences move quickly, often driven by dialogue that feels lived-in and unfiltered. He has a keen ear for how people in power speak, how rumours sound in a bazaar and how piety and paranoia share the same vocabulary. At times, this journalistic edge turns the novel into something close to public commentary. The satire bites harder than the sentiment lingers, giving the book its urgency and political clarity.

To write about a leader who was executed decades ago is not, in Hanif’s hands, an act of nostalgia. It is a way of asking why that moment still feels unfinished. The novel does not appear stuck in the past so much as alert to how often Pakistan returns to it and how the same tensions between elected power and uniformed authority resurface under new names and new slogans. Bhutto becomes less a historical figure and more a recurring argument.

The strong presence of Captain Gul underscores how deeply institutional power continues to shape civilian life. If there is an allegory here, it is not about one man’s authoritarian streak but about a cycle in which charisma, populism and control blur into one another.

Hanif suggests that, unless the balance between civilian rule and state authority is resolved, history will not simply echo but repeat itself. In that sense, Rebel English Academy reads less like a backwards glance and more like a warning about cycles we have yet to break.

The reviewer is a Teaching Fellow at the Department of Humanities and Social Sciences at LUMS

Published in Dawn, Books & Authors, March 15th, 2026

The Book of Sheen: A Memoir
By Charlie Sheen
Gallery Books
ISBN: 978-1668075289
368pp.

A human train wreck may be the simplest way to describe Charlie Sheen.

His career began with promise, progressed quickly and crashed often, but somehow kept moving. After five decades in Hollywood, Sheen finally tells his side of the story in his memoir The Book of Sheen, a blunt account of fame, failure and survival.

The title may sound plain, but it is apt as the book allows Sheen to lay everything out. He writes about his early struggles to become an actor, his sudden success and his long fight with addiction. What starts as a story of opportunity slowly turns into one of self-destruction, marked by relapses, rehab stays and missed chances.

Sheen may not have become the superstar many expected, but he remains part of a strong Hollywood lineage. His father, Martin Sheen, paved the way and Charlie followed with memorable roles in Platoon, Wall Street, Major League and Hot Shots. The memoir makes it clear that talent was never the issue. Addiction was.

The book opens dramatically, with Sheen describing his birth, during which he nearly died. His umbilical cord was wrapped around his neck, and a priest was called in. His doctor refused to give up, and Sheen survived. It is a powerful beginning and, in many ways, it mirrors the rest of his life: narrow escapes followed by hard falls.

Actor Charlie Sheen may not have become the superstar many expected, but he remains part of a strong Hollywood lineage. His memoir makes it clear that talent was never the issue. Addiction was.

Sheen writes openly about his failures as a husband and father, and his inability to stay sober for long. When he was successful, he was one of the most photographed men in the world and the highest-paid actor on television. Then the tabloid headlines took over. Sex, drugs and reckless behaviour undid much of what he did.

The book’s voice ensures the reader feels as if Sheen is speaking directly to them. The pace is fast and casual, and sometimes lacks structure. He names friends, lovers, wives and one-night stands with little restraint. At times, it seems he forgets this is a book for the public, not a private confession, and these passages feel excessive and distracting.

Still, the memoir has its strengths. It is written in a clear chronological order, with short chapters that keep the pace moving. Sheen describes his childhood, constant changes in schools and friendships with future stars such as Sean Penn, Rob Lowe, Nicholas Cage and Chris Penn. He shares moments from the sets of Apocalypse Now, including meeting Marlon Brando and learning about his father’s heart attack while filming.

There are many entertaining behind-the-scenes stories. Sheen talks about making Super 8mm films with his brothers and friends, his late arrival on the set of Ferris Bueller’s Day Off for a cameo, and turning down the lead role in The Karate Kid on his father’s advice. He also reveals that he stuttered as a child, tried weed for the first time during his teens, and was mistaken for a real soldier by the Philippine army during the shooting of Platoon. Sounds unbelievable? Well, it happened!

The book becomes more engaging when Sheen focuses on his career. He describes how easily success came to him and how uncomfortable that made him. His account of losing and then gaining a role in Platoon at his brother Emilio’s expense is especially revealing. The darker chapters cover arrests, domestic disputes, rehab stints and scandals that made him famous for the wrong reasons. He does not shy away from these moments, but he also often blames substances rather than taking full responsibility.

When Sheen discusses Spin City and Two and a Half Men, the tone shifts. There is little gossip and few behind-the-scenes details, which might disappoint those who want to know more. Although he does talk about the insecurity he felt when Michael J. Fox returned to the sets of Spin City, he doesn’t satisfy the readers by reminiscing about his exit from the easiest job in the world — playing a version of himself in Two and a Half Men. What he does talk about freely is the subject of addiction, which seems to be the book’s central theme.

The memoir also features celebrity anecdotes about Bill Clinton, O.J. Simpson and Sophia Loren, playful spelling quirks, and defensive explanations of his past behaviour. These sections are lighter but less gripping than the rest of the book.

Sheen also touches on important moments of his life: his relationship with The Rookie co-star and director Clint Eastwood, working alongside his father, and living with HIV after being diagnosed with the disease in 2011. These parts are handled with more restraint and maturity.

In conclusion, The Book of Sheen is not a story of triumph. It is a story of survival. As Sheen himself writes, “We can live the stories or hear about them later from others. I choose the former.” His life proves that fame, talent and family connections are no guarantee of stability. This memoir is messy, honest and uneven — much like the man who wrote it.

The reviewer is a broadcast journalist who also writes on sports, film, television and popular culture

Published in Dawn, Books & Authors, March 15th, 2026

No Compulsion in Religion — No Exceptions
Edited by Mustafa Akyol
Cato Institute
ISBN: 978-1964524948
184pp.

There are certain subjects that many Muslims cannot discuss casually — or frankly — anywhere in the world among themselves. These include apostasy laws and their implementation, blasphemy prosecutions or anything related to women’s empowerment with a focus on their autonomy.

Bring these topics up in drawing rooms in Lahore or Los Angeles, and you are likely to encounter a kind of strategic silence. There are long pauses, careful language, deflective smiles and layers of sugar-coating. Most of us do not feel comfortable sharing our thoughts, out of fear of being judged and, in some instances, being accused of heresy.

In other instances, there is outright rejection of the very premise of questions about individual freedom and dignity, and it is termed nefarious or veiled Western modernity.

I have had many such interesting conversations with Muslims from diverse backgrounds from across the world. With a few exceptions, the standard response has become predictable: “Come on, what the Taliban in Afghanistan are doing is not Islam”, or “This is not the right way to implement God’s law”, or “This is coercion, and has no place in the real Islamic state.”

A timely collection of essays by prominent Islamic scholars argues that arguments for religious freedom and against coercion exist within Islamic intellectual tradition itself

The striking thing to note is that, in the same breath, while coercion is acknowledged as unacceptable in principle, so too is the “expression or exercise of will.” In other words, although freedom is theoretically and conditionally recognised, in practice, it is often deemed offensive to what many perceive as the core of “true Islam.”

These deflective smiles, long pauses or outright rejection of questions about freedom reveal a deeper anxiety prevailing among Muslims globally. It is a reflection of the widely held assumption that many Muslims hold true even today, that Islam and freedom are inherently two separate, incompatible entities and cannot be reconciled.

As a result, most Muslims have become quite apologetic, unnecessarily defensive and quite uncertain of their ground when the discussion turns to human dignity, freedom, choice and Islam in the same breath. As a Muslim and as a student of Islam and politics in Muslim-majority countries, I find this deeply problematic and challenging.

You cannot beat, jail or threaten someone into genuine faith. This principle extends across all religious domains, ranging from daily prayers to fasting to dressing modestly to theological belief itself.

A new book, No Compulsion in Religion — No Exceptions, edited by Mustafa Akyol, a senior fellow at the Washington DC-based Cato Institute, and with contributions by prominent Islamic scholars from across the Muslim world, including Abdullah Saeed, Husnul Amin, Asma Afsaruddin and Abdullahi Ahmed An-Na’im, directly confronts these uncomfortable silences and troubling questions.

The book’s central argument is as simple as it is powerful: the Quranic verse: “There is no compulsion in religion” (2:256) should be understood, interpreted and applied comprehensively — with no exceptions — to all people, irrespective of their religious affiliation and geography. The authors argue that this verse must be used not just to protect non-Muslims from forced conversion, as is common in most conservative interpretations. Instead, it should be used to challenge — and ultimately dismantle — all forms of religious coercion within Muslim societies.

In other words, the book brings the universality of non-coercion — the freedom to choose — to Islam in general and to this verse in particular, and this is precisely what makes it both bold and provocative for many Muslim readers.

At the heart of Islamic theology and politics lie several fundamental questions. To whom is the individual answerable to in matters of religion? To other individuals claiming religious authority? To the state acting in religion’s name? Or directly to God alone? No Compulsion in Religion directly tackles these questions and offers clear, persuasive answers grounded in Islamic tradition.

Abdullahi Ahmed An-Na’im, for example, articulates in the concluding chapter: “The Sharia can and should always be practised voluntarily in society, never enforced by the state. Whatever any state does is to enforce its own political will, and not the Sharia as such.” This is the essential point the book tries to make: that Islam recognises individuality, dignity and freedom. Without any qualification or conditions, it essentially presupposes each person’s capacity and responsibility to stand directly before God.

However, these scholars also acknowledge and attempt to counter those dominant interpretations which have historically and increasingly denied these fundamentals by inserting human intermediaries between the believer and the divine.

The other most profound contribution of the book is that coercion is religiously invalid, not just undesirable. This contention is based upon the Islamic principle of niyyah, which means pure and sincere intention. Islam primarily requires genuine intention, but coercion automatically nullifies religious observance. The state enforcement of such values is, therefore, theologically counterproductive.  As An-Na’im puts it, “any observance of the Sharia must be completely voluntary to meet the requirement of ‘intent to comply (niyyah in Arabic)’, which is essential for any action or omission to be religiously valid from an Islamic point of view. Conversely, any coercion or compulsion renders conformity null and void from a religious point of view.”

You cannot beat, jail or threaten someone into genuine faith. This principle extends across all religious domains, ranging from daily prayers to fasting to dressing modestly to theological belief itself.        

The case of Iran, as discussed in the book, should be eye-opening. The Islamic Republic has enforced religiosity for almost four decades. What did it achieve? The opposite. Iranian society has experienced a dramatic religious decline rather than the anticipated revival. British journalist Nicolas Pelham noted in 2019 that “despite Iran’s pious reputation, Tehran may well be the least religious capital in the Middle East… Unlike most Muslim countries, the call to prayer is almost inaudible.”

Similarly, a 2020 survey also revealed that only approximately 40 percent of Iranians identified as Muslim during confidential polling, compared to over 90 percent according to official statistics. The lesson is unmistakable: coercion produces outward conformity but not inner faith and, over time, generates resentment and, ultimately, religious abandonment. One can also argue that it can lead to rebellion under certain conditions, as seen in women’s struggle for independence and personal autonomy in Iran in 2026.

My conversations on these subjects in Pakistan and the United States suggest that many Muslims, particularly those in comfortable positions within Western societies or in positions of power in Muslim-majority countries, dismiss freedom-centred arguments as “Western-inspired interpretations of Islam.” These arguments portray Islam and its history as if individual rights and religious liberty were foreign impositions, incompatible with authentic Islamic civilisations.

One contribution of this book is that, by drawing on Quranic exegesis, hadith [sayings of Prophet Muhammad PBUH] analysis, classical scholars and historical precedents, it demolishes that excuse. On the contrary, it demonstrates that arguments for religious freedom exist within Islamic intellectual tradition itself, though they have often been marginalised or suppressed in favour of authoritarian interpretations that served the interests of rulers and clerical establishments.

Akyol, in the first chapter, suggests that discussions of rights and freedoms existed in the 17th century Ottoman Empire. When the militant Kadzadeli Movement sought to violently enforce their interpretation of Islam — banning coffee, tobacco and Sufi practices — they were opposed by scholars like Abd al-Ghani al-Nabulsi, making explicitly Quranic arguments for non-coercion.

For instance, Al-Nabulsi wrote in 1682: “As God Almighty said: ‘And say, “Truth is from your Lord. Whoever wants, let him believe and whoever wants, let him disbelieve”’ [18:29]. The meaning of this verse is not to force people to obey the command and avoid the prohibition… And God Almighty said: ‘No compulsion in religion’ [2:256].” This happened three centuries before modern Western human rights discourse, demonstrating that freedom is not a foreign import but is embedded in Islamic tradition itself.

The book’s ultimate argument can be stated simply: it is impossible for a faith system to sustain itself based on fear alone. Genuine religion requires conscience, conviction and voluntary commitment. State coercion can produce outward conformity, but not inner faith. For those who believe that Islam’s future depends on recovering its emphasis on human dignity, moral agency and direct accountability to God rather than to human intermediaries, this book offers both intellectual resources and moral encouragement.

The conversations we have been avoiding must finally happen. No Compulsion in Religion — No Exceptions provides the scholarly foundation to begin them.

The reviewer is a PhD Candidate in Political Science at Boston University, USA

Published in Dawn, Books & Authors, March 15th, 2026