A first novel of the first order—provocative, exuberant, wickedly clever—that reimagines the conspiracies and coincidences leading to the mysterious 1988 plane crash that killed Pakistan’s dictator General Zia ul-Haq.

At the center is Ali Shigri: Pakistan Air Force pilot and Silent Drill Commander of Fury Squadron. His father, one of Zia’s colonels, committed suicide under suspicious circumstances. Ali is determined to understand what or who pushed his father to such desperation—and to avenge his death.

What he quickly discovers is a snarl of events: Americans in Pakistan, Soviets in Afghanistan, dollars in every hand. But Ali remains patient, determined, a touch world-weary (“You want freedom and they give you chicken korma”), and unsurprised at finding Zia at every turn. He mounts an elaborate plot for revenge with an ever-changing crew (willing and not) that includes his silk-underwear-and-cologne-wearing roommate; a hash-smoking American lieutenant with questionable motives; the chief of Pakistan’s secret police, who mistakenly believes he’s in cahoots with the CIA; a blind woman imprisoned for fornication; Uncle Starchy, the squadron’s laundryman; and, not least of all, a mango-besotted crow. General Zia—devout Muslim and leering admirer of non-Muslim cleavage—begins every day by asking his chief of security: “Who’s trying to kill me?” and the answer lies in a conspiracy trying its damnedest to happen . . .

Intrigue and subterfuge combine with misstep and luck in this darkly comic book about love, betrayal, tyranny, family—and a world that unexpectedly resembles our own.

"Pakistan's ongoing political turmoil adds a piquant edge to this fact-based farce spun from the mysterious 1988 plane crash that killed General Zia, the dictator who toppled Zulfikar Ali Bhutto, father of recently assassinated Benazir Bhutto. Two parallel assassination plots converge in Hanif's darkly comic debut: Air Force Junior Under Officer Ali Shigri, sure that his renowned military father's alleged suicide was actually a murder, hopes to kill Zia, who he holds responsible. Meanwhile, disgruntled Zia underlings scheme to release poison gas into the ventilation system of the general's plane. Supporting characters include Bannon, a hash-smoking CIA officer posing as an American drill instructor; Obaid, Shigri's Rilke-reading, perfume-wearing barracks pal, whose friendship sometimes segues into sex; and, in a foreboding cameo, a 'lanky man with a flowing beard,' identified as OBL, who is among the guests at a Felliniesque party at the American ambassador's residence. The Pakistan-born author served in his nation's air force for several years, which adds daffy verisimilitude to his depiction of military foibles that recalls the satirical wallop of Catch 22, as well as some heft to the sagely absurd depiction of his homeland's history of political conspiracies and corruption." Publishers Weekly (Starred Review) (Copyright Reed Business Information, Inc.)

You may have heard the story about Henry Kissinger's meeting with Zhou Enlai: The secretary of state asked the legendary Chinese diplomat his assessment of the French Revolution. "Too soon to tell," Zhou replied.

History, no doubt, takes the long view, an observation borne out by Mohammed Hanif's insanely brilliant, satirical first novel, based on suspicious circumstances that led... Washington Post Book Review (read the entire Washington Post review) to the 1988 plane crash that killed Pakistani President Mohammed Zia ul-Haq and U.S. Ambassador Arnold Raphel. "A Case of Exploding Mangoes" was already in production when former Pakistani prime minister Benazir Bhutto was assassinated in Rawalpindi. And even now the lawyers' movement continues to pressure the crumbling presidency of Pervez Musharraf. At this epochal moment, Pakistan continues to write new history. It took courage for Hanif to put anything in print about a country that's changing by the minute, but "A Case of Exploding Mangoes" is as familiar and relevant this hour as any.

At the core is Ali Shigri, a do-or-die air force pilot who, to avenge the covered-up murder of his father, conspires to kill Zia, the dictator who overthrew and later executed Prime Minister Zulfiqar Ali Bhutto. Enlisting the help of his barracks mate and lover, Obaid, a hash-dealing laundryman and a hash-smoking CIA operative, Shigri sets out to kill the president. But he has to get in line behind a host of Zia's would-be assassins. Shigri's poison-tipped sword seems positively old-school next to the chief of intelligence's plan to release poison gas into the ventilation system of Zia's plane.

If rage is the mother's milk of satire, then Hanif has plenty. He takes out his fury on a hapless President Zia, plaguing him with worms, a seemingly eternal rectal examination and a longing for Caucasian cleavage. Eventually, Zia is reduced to nothing more than an outgrowth of his mustache, which Hanif has imbued with near-human properties. When we first meet Zia, he has become so victimized by his own paranoia that he has locked himself in the palace, passing his time interpreting the Koran as a daily horoscope.

But perhaps nothing frightens him as much as the first lady, who, after discovering a damning photo of her husband leering at the breasts of a Texas reporter, has vowed to turn her back on him forever. As if he didn't have enough problems, he is now under pressure from human rights groups to release a blind woman accused of fornication (she was raped by four men) and condemned to death by stoning. He turns to his spiritual adviser, who keeps a flat in Mecca. The stoning must go forward, he's advised. The Doctrine of Necessity, the same law that justified overthrowing the Bhutto government, will be employed. "The guilty commit the crime," Hanif writes. "The innocent are punished. That's the world we live in."

When Hanif plays the book for comedy, he scores. Take, for example, a party at the U.S. Embassy at which strange bedfellows show up as if attending a Rotarian costume ball. "The local CIA chief, Chuck Coogan, one of the first guests to arrive, sported a Karakul cap, and an embroidered leather holster. ... The U.S. cultural attache came wearing an Afghan burka, one of those flowing shuttlecocks that she had tucked halfway over her head to reveal the plunging neckline." When a military bouncer objects to the epaulet on a University of Nebraska professor's camouflage outfit, the guest shrugs, "Well, we are at war. Ain't we?" In walks "a lanky man with a flowing beard" named OBL — think about it — who quickly tires of an uninterested reporter and moves on to the next guest. "How's business, brother?" Gen. Akhtar, chief of Pakistan intelligence, asks after thanking him for his help in booting the Soviets. "There is no business like the construction business in times of war," OBL replies. The role is only a cameo. Hanif doesn't need to tie loose ends; we have history for that.

But even as Hanif eviscerates, he writes with great generosity and depth. And perhaps he is at his best when he describes the relationship between Shigri and Obaid. Released from prison where they were tortured for information on their assassination plot, the two retreat to Shigri's boyhood mango-farm home. Obaid admits that under torture (his head was ironed) he gave up Shigri and his plan to kill the president. Shigri has done the same to Obaid. Still, the bond between the two endures, defying their mutual betrayal.

Hanif shifts points of view seamlessly, from Shigri to Zia, from Gen. Akhtar to the blind condemned woman, from Ambassador Raphel to his wife. There's even a mango-eating bird that makes a foreboding wrong turn at the border of Pakistan and Afghanistan and an appearance by former CIA Chief Bill Casey, portrayed as an airplane-racing drunk.

Hanif graduated from the Pakistan Air Force Academy, which gives this military farce a firm grounding. "A Case of Exploding Mangoes" belongs in a tradition that includes "Catch-22," but it also calls to mind the biting comedy of Philip Roth, the magical realism of Salman Rushdie and the feverish nightmares of Kafka. But trying to compare his work to his predecessors is like trying to compare apples to, well, mangoes, because Hanif has his own story to tell, one that defies expectations at every turn.

Reviewed by Julia Slavin, who is the author of 'The Woman Who Cut Off Her Leg at the Maidstone Club and Other Stories' and the novel 'Carnivore Diet', Washington Post Book World (Copyright 2006 Washington Post Book World Service/Washington Post Writers Group)
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“Funny, subversive, erotic, and sad. Anyone thinking of applying for the job of unhinged, religious dictator should read it first.”    

Mark Haddon, author of The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-time

“There are many reasons to read this excellent novel, and one for which it should be celebrated: Hanif has found in Zia a veritable Homer Simpson of theocratic zealotry . . . The inevitable comparison here is to Dr. Strangelove, and just as the Kubrick film crystallized the absurdities of nuclear escalation into an archetypal cast of idiots-who-run-the-world, Mangoes provides the necessary update.”

New York Observer

“A sure-footed, inventive debut that deftly undercuts its moral rage with comedy and deepens its comedy with moral rage . . . The novel has less in common with the sober literature of fact than it does with Latin American magical realism (especially novels about mythic dictators such as Gabriel García Márquez’s Autumn of the Patriarch) and absurdist military comedy (like Joseph Heller’s Catch-22). Hanif adopts a playful, exuberant voice, as competing theories and assassination plots are ingeniously combined and overlaid.”

Kirkus Reviews

“Entertaining and illuminating . . . Hanif has crafted a clever black comedy about military culture, love, tyranny, family, and the events that eventually brought us to September 11, 2001.”

Booklist

“Witty, elegant, and deliciously anarchic. Hanif has a lovely eye and an even better ear.”

John le Carré

“In this brilliant debut, Hanif takes a disarming moment in world history and embellishes it into a darkly comic series of events . . . The author is exceptional in sharing his intimate take on Pakistan and the dynamics of the military. He also has a sharp sense of humor that finds a place in his extraordinary and cleverly fashioned characters . . . The detail is rich, the prose resonant. This is an intelligent book indeed . . .

“Assassination has long been an appealing subject for male novelists: Geoffrey Household’s Rogue Male, Richard Condon’s Manchurian Candidate, Frederick Forsyth’s Day of the Jackal, Don DeLillo’s Libra and James Ellroy’s American Tabloid. Hanif’s exuberant first novel, A Case of Exploding Mangoes, extends this tradition of assassination fiction and shifts it east to Pakistan . . . A historical novel with an eerie timeliness.”

New York Times Book Review

“Fascinating . . . It sardonically examines the workings of the Pakistani state, which comes off like a Third World Brazil imagined by Raymond Chandler. What really drives Mangoes, however, is Hanif’s sharp writing and considerable wit . . . Profoundly humanist.”

Village Voice

Teasing, provocative, and very funny, Mohammed Hanif's debut novel takes one of the subcontinent's enduring mysteries and out if it spins a tale as rich and colourful as a beggar's dream.

Why did a Hercules C130, the world's sturdiest plane, carrying Pakistan's military dictator General Zia ul Haq, go down on 17 August, 1988?

Was it because of:

1. Mechanical failure

2. Human error

3. The CIA's impatience

4. A blind woman's curse

5. Generals not happy with their pension plans

6. The mango season

Or could it be your narrator, Ali Shigri?

Here are the facts:

- A military dictator reads the Quran every morning as if it was his daily horoscope.

- Under Officer Ali Shigri carries a deadly message on the tip of his sword.

- His friend Obaid answers all life's questions with a splash of eau de cologne and a quote from Rilke.

- A crow has crossed the Pakistani border illegally.

As young Shigri moves from a mosque hall to his military barracks before ending up in a Mughal dungeon, there are questions that haunt him: What does it mean to betray someone and still love them? How many names does Allah really have? Who killed his father, Colonel Shigri? Who will kill his killers? And where the hell has Obaid disappeared to?

Mohammed Hanif heads the BBC’s Urdu service. He graduated from the Pakistan Air Force Academy and has since worked as a journalist and playwright. He lives in London.