The NS Interview: Imran Khan

“David Cameron should not have owned Tony Blair’s war”

Do you hope to be president or prime minister of Pakistan one day?
Not president, prime minister. I don't hope - I'm convinced that in the next election my party, Tehreek-e-Insaf [Movement for Justice], will win. In every university, it is by far the most popular party in Pakistan; it's the party of the young.

What is the political atmosphere like?
What you have today is a media that you can no longer control, a supreme court that is independent, though it is under attack, and a young generation who all want a change.

Is there a sense of rebellion in the country?
There is a general movement for change, reflected in the public support for the chief justice [ousted by General Pervez Musharraf in 2007]. Ordinary citizens realise that they want to get rid of a corrupt system.

Who is responsible for Pakistan's corruption?
The collective political mafia. They're in politics for one reason - it's the biggest business. Look at Nawaz Sharif [the ex-prime minister] and Asif Zardari [the current president] and the sort of properties and businesses they've got.

What did you think of General Musharraf?
By taking us into the war on terror, he probably did more damage than anyone else to the people of Pakistan.

What's your solution to the war in Afghanistan?
There has to be an exit strategy; Nato has to leave Afghanistan. Otherwise more and more people will be dying, most of them innocent.

Are they not dying at the hands of the Taliban?
Whether they're dying at the hands of the Taliban or the government does not matter, as the war is not being won. All the Taliban have to do to win is not lose - and they're not losing, because more and more areas are coming under Taliban control.

Has Barack Obama had a positive impact?
President Obama had a golden opportunity. I wrote an open letter to him when he became president, saying that he should not own George Bush's war in Afghanistan, that it was a tried and failed strategy. He has done exactly what he should not have done. David Cameron should not have owned Tony Blair's war and Obama should not have owned Bush's war.

You were educated in Britain. What are your fondest memories of that time?
The summer, because the summer in Pakistan used to be boiling hot. And the cricket. I also loved London - it was such a melting pot.

How were you influenced by your relationship with your mother?
I was very close to her, and then seeing her suffer [she died of cancer in 1985] had a big impact on me. Until then I had no real pain in my life. Also, a lot of my value system came from her because she was very political: she had lived under colonial rule and was always anti-imperialist.

You're now a parent. Do you want your sons to follow in your footsteps?
I would want my sons always to be political, because human beings are political. It means caring about your environment and the people you live with. I want them to raise their voice against injustice in society.

What about cricket?
I would want them to play sport, but not necessarily at the level I played. Sport teaches you to struggle, it strengthens you. It's a great character-building experience.

Who's your favourite cricketer?
I don't really follow cricket that much these days. But Sachin Tendulkar is still the best batsman. And the two young Pakistani players Mohammad Asif and Umar Akmal are oozing with talent.

What does your faith mean to you?
A complete faith in God changes you as a human being. You become human, in the sense that you become selfless, you're more compassionate and you become more just - you feel you're accountable to a higher force.

Did your political ambitions cost you your marriage to Jemima Khan?
I don't look upon life like that. Life is a journey, and marriage works if two people are on the same journey. Sadly, my ex-wife could not live in Pakistan after a while - she found it very difficult. I have the greatest admiration for how much she tried, but you come to a point where [you realise] it was not meant to be.

Do you keep in touch with Jemima's brother Zac, now a Tory MP?
I campaigned for Zac. He's like a younger brother. He has a great sense of justice; he is the sort of person who should be in politics.

What would you like to forget?
It's all part of life - I have no regrets.

Are we all doomed?
No, I'm a great optimist.

Defining Moments

1952 Born in Lahore
1971 Makes his Test debut against England at Edgbaston
1972 Begins BA in PPE at Oxford
1992 Leads Pakistan to Cricket World Cup victory, then turns his focus to social work
1995 Marries Jemima Goldsmith; they divorce in 2004
1996 Launches Tehreek-e-Insaf party
2009 Placed under house arrest ahead of anti-government protests

Mehdi Hasan is a contributing writer for the New Statesman and the co-author of Ed: The Milibands and the Making of a Labour Leader. He was the New Statesman's senior editor (politics) from 2009-12.

This article first appeared in the 23 August 2010 issue of the New Statesman, Pakistan

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An English hero for the ages: Ian Botham at 60

Botham blends his sportsmanship and deep-seated passion for cricket with a lust for life.

Begging W H Auden’s pardon, it is possible both to honour and to value the vertical man, and in the case of Ian Botham, who turned 60 on 24 November, it is our bounden duty. No sportsman has given Britons so much to enjoy in the past half-century and no sportsman is loved more. Two decades after he retired from first-class cricket, his reputation as one of life’s champions remains unassailable.

No mere cricketer is he, either. Botham is a philanthropist, having raised more than £12m for various charities, notably Leukaemia and Lymphoma Research. In December, 30 years after his first walk from John o’Groats to Land’s End, he will set off again, in South Africa, where England are on tour. And he really does walk, too, not amble. As somebody who accompanied him on one of his dozen walks said: “You can’t keep up with him. The man is a phenomenon.”

Of all postwar sportsmen, only Bobby Charlton and, at a pinch, Henry Cooper come close to matching Botham’s enduring popularity. But Charlton, a shy man who was scarred by the Munich plane crash of 1958 (and may never have recovered from its emotional effects), has never comfortably occupied a public stage; and Cooper, being a boxer, had a solitary role. Botham, by contrast, spoke for England. Whenever he picked up his bat, or had a ball in his hand, he left spectators in no doubt.

Others have also spoken for England. Bobby Moore and Martin Johnson, captains respectively of England’s World Cup-winning football and rugby teams, were great players but did not reach out to people as naturally as Botham. Nick Faldo, Lester Piggott, Sebastian Coe and, to bring us up to date, Lewis Hamilton have beaten the best in the world, but they lacked those qualities that Botham displayed so freely. That is not to mark them down. They were, and are, champions. But Botham was born under a different star.

It was John Arlott, the great cricket commentator, who first spotted his uniqueness. Covering a match at Taunton in 1974, he asked the young colt to carry his bags up the rickety staircase to the press box, where Arlott, wearing his oenophile’s hat, pulled out a bottle of red wine and invited Botham to drink. Forty years later Botham is a discriminating wine drinker – and maker. Along with his friend and fellow England great Bob Willis, and their Australian wine­making pal Geoff Merrill, he has put his name to a notable Shiraz, “BMW”.

Arlott, with his nose for talent and good company, saw something in the young Botham that Brian Close, his captain at Somerset, was beginning to bring out. Later, Mike Brearley, as England captain, drew out something even more remarkable. As Rodgers and Hammerstein wrote, you’ve got to be carefully taught. And Botham, a fine team man as well as a supreme individual performer, has never withheld praise from those who enabled him to find his voice.

If sport reveals character, then cricket is the game that reveals it most clearly. In no other sport is the individual performance rooted so firmly in a team context. Every over brings a contest of skill and intelligence between batsman and bowler but only a team can win the match. “A cricketer,” as Arlott said, “is showing you something of himself all the time.”

Cricket also reveals national character more than any other sport. Football may be the most popular game in the world but cricket, and cricketers, tell us far more about England and Englishness. It is instructive, in this regard, to hear what Philippe Auclair, a French journalist and author long resident in London, has to say about Botham: “He is essentially an 18th-century Englishman.” In one! It’s not difficult to sense a kinship with Tom Jones, Fielding’s embodiment of 18th-century life, who began his journey, as readers may recall, in Somerset.

A country boy who played for Worcestershire after leaving Somerset, and who lives by choice in North Yorkshire, Botham is an old-fashioned Englishman. Although nobody has yet found him listening to the parson’s sermon, he is conservative with a small and upper-case C, a robust monarchist, handy with rod and gun, and happiest with a beaker in front of him. He represents (though he would never claim to be a representative) all those people who understand instinctively what England means, not in a narrow way, but through something that is in the blood.

Above all, he will be remembered for ever as the hero of 1981. Even now it takes some believing that Botham bowled and batted with such striking success that the Australians, who were one up after two Tests, were crushed. Some of us who were actually at Headingley for the famous third Test – thousands who claim to have been there were not – recall the odds of 500-1 on an England victory going up on the electronic scoreboard that Saturday evening.

Botham made 149 not out as England, following on, beat the Aussies by 18 runs. For three hours the country seemed to stop. In the next Test, at Edgbaston, Botham took five wickets for one run as Australia fell under his spell. Then, at Old Trafford, on a dank Saturday afternoon, he played the most memorable innings of his life and one of the greatest innings ever played by an Englishman: 118 magnificent, joyful runs. Joy: that’s the word. Botham brought joy into people’s lives.

Yet it was the final Test at the Oval, which ended in a draw, that brought from him a performance no less remarkable than those from before. He bowled 89 overs in that match, flat out, continuing to run in when others withdrew with injury. That was the team man coming to the fore. Little wonder his comrades thought the world of him.

Modest, loyal, respectful to opponents, grateful to all who have lent him a hand, and supported throughout a turbulent life by Kath, his rock of a wife, and their three children, this is a cricketing hero to rank with W G Grace, Jack Hobbs, Wally Hammond and Fred Trueman. A feature in the lives of all who saw him, and a very English hero. 

This article first appeared in the 26 November 2015 issue of the New Statesman, Terror vs the State