Sirajuddin Aziz
“Reading maketh a man” is a remark attributed to Sir Francis Bacon that many of us were introduced to in primary or middle school. My teachers, including the Rector and the Reverend Brothers and Sisters, placed great emphasis on cultivating the habit of reading. They would not abridge the quote, but repeat it in full: “Reading maketh a full man, conference a ready man, and writing an exact man.” This practice of quoting in full deserves revival.
Within my family too, there was a culture of reading. My father was a prolific reader, with wide-ranging interests. His fluency in Persian matched his Urdu and English; consequently, his access to knowledge was far broader. The more languages one learns, the greater the resources one unlocks, which would otherwise remain unknown. Translations are useful, but often stripped of nuance and detail; it is therefore best to read a work in its original language.
Reading habits are formed early in childhood. Those who read Enid Blyton, Sir Walter Scott, R. L. Stevenson, J. K. Rowling, or writers such as Mohammed Hussain Azad, Prem Chand, Krishan Chander and Deputy Nazir Ahmed often carry this habit throughout life. Reading is both “incurable” and “contagious”. In households where reading is valued, children naturally imitate parents and siblings. Habits formed in childhood are engravings in stone.
Reading to pass an examination is distinct from the habit of reading, which stems from an inner urge for pleasure and knowledge. “Readers are leaders” may be a cliché, but it remains true. Leadership that neither reads nor encourages reading explains why, as a nation, we rank poorly in education and knowledge. Allocating less than three per cent of GDP to education cannot produce wise leadership.
A former prime minister once struggled, during an interview with Hamid Mir, to name a single book he had supposedly read during imprisonment. Such embarrassment arises when claims are unsupported by substance. Leaders worldwide often write memoirs in confinement, but one who does not read can never write well. Reading is nourishment for the mind; unfed, it deteriorates through disuse.
Bill Clinton lamented in an interview that he had managed to read “only 82 books” in a year. One wonders how many books our leaders read annually. Their actions and speech inevitably reflect their reading—or lack thereof.
Students often cite “lack of time” as an excuse for not reading, despite time being abundant. When supply exceeds demand, value declines, and so it has with reading. Even among the elite, books are often possessed but unread. Ownership is no substitute for engagement.
As Charles Lamb observed, “I love to lose myself in other men’s minds… Books think for me.” R. L. Stevenson similarly argued that true reading should be rapt and immersive. Books, like friends, must be chosen carefully, for they shape character and destiny.
Longfellow wrote, “Lives of great men all remind us, we can make our lives sublime.” My father encouraged me to read biographies and history alongside my studies in business and management.
Politicians should read the lives of Lincoln, Jinnah, Nehru, Bhutto, Zhou Enlai, Lee Kuan Yew, Deng Xiaoping and Mahathir Mohamad; corporate leaders should add Branson, Jobs, Gates and Musk; social leaders should study Nightingale, Mother Teresa and Abdul Sattar Edhi. Religious figures, though omitted here, offer even greater collective wisdom.
In Hamlet, Polonius asks, “What do you read, my lord?” Hamlet replies, “Words, words, words.”
The writer is a Senior Banker & Freelance Columnist.
