ia Mohyeddin was one of the first South Asian thespians to be recognised by the theatre establishment of West End.

These days it appears to be a normal act of ascendance but it was not so in the decades that followed the World War II. Talent alone did not form the basis of acceptance. There was a requirement to break a barrier or scale a wall that existed in all fields, particularly the performing arts. In a way it is ironic that it was the typecasting of a character that made the successful introduction of Zia Mohyeddin possible. The character of Dr Aziz in A Passage to India made Zia Mohyeddin a more stable presence in the theatre sphere of Britain. Before that, he had struggled but never given up in a field that was full of certain givens like the suitability of the white actor for roles that were created by whosoever. All roles, even those of non-whites, were played by the seasoned white actors of the stage in those days.

It was difficult to make a breakthrough and whosoever did it made instant news. The news of whatever kind took time to travel, especially of theatre, art and literature, even more painfully than the political one. The fact that someone had made it to the mainstream was considered to be an unmistakable success. It was something to be proud of.

Zia Mohyeddin’s resolve must have been a constant. Besides his talent, he was determined to succeed. After his education at the Government College, Lahore, he had worked for the radio and earned a scholarship to be in Australia. That must have exposed him to a larger, bigger world and enhanced the confidence that there was no qualitative difference between men and women from around the world.

In the nineteen fifties, though, Zia Mohyeddin directed Julius Caesar, translated into Urdu by Hafeez Javed, at the Open Air Theatre at Government College. He later worked in Karachi with Khwaja Muenuddin especially in his play Lal Qilay Say Lalu Khait Tak.

He also was associated with the Karachi Arts and Theatre Society (KATS) and did a number of plays, mostly in English. His determination took him to the Royal Academy of the Dramatic Arts (RADA) – a dream for most in this part of the world aspiring to become a part of the show business elite. That must have helped, because he started getting roles in the plays in the mainstream theatre, rather than the fringe. Then came the breakthrough with A Passage to India - a certification of a South Asia role played by a South Asian. But he was able to pull it off and remove the stain of prejudice that had trailed most from non-white backgrounds.

He came back to Pakistan in the late nineteen eighties with the idea of dramatic reading or narrating of the works in local languages and English. He was inspired by the example of John Gielgud who had successfully started reading Shakespeare, most of all.

It also helped him earn a few film roles including one in Lawrence of Arabia that made him a household name across the world. The role was not big or the performance brilliant, it was just that he was able to make it to the choicest sets by one of the most celebrated film directors, David Lean. His acceptance was not without envy. He was derisively labelled as an “international extra” by some back home. He had a more central role in Bombay Talkies by Merchant Ivory, the duo that went on to make films that were critically acclaimed by most across the world.

But then the lure of doing something for the country brought him back. He soon set a new trend with a television show and hosted some of the most prominent people from across the spectrum. It was both flashy and classy, introducing a new concept. This was also a time when more space was afforded to the circumstances at home. With elections imminent, many personalities or ideas excluded from the state-run media found a presence that enhanced the value of the programme. Its quality was unmistakable and earned him a status that he was to retain throughout his life in his home country. He also introduced the reading of poetry tahtul lafz to the accompaniment of a tabla beat that was to blossom over the years to come.

But then the conditions here were always on the verge of turmoil. After working in the PIA Performing Arts Academy, staging and televising another show with equal grace, glamour and quality in Lahore, (the first being in Karachi) he ventured back to the United Kingdom where a welcoming ethos of greater diversity saw him face less resistance. More avenues were opening to non-whites and the launch of Channel 4 made him a front runner for doing quality work as an actor and as a presenter.

He came back to Pakistan in the late nineteen eighties with the idea of dramatic reading or narrating of works in local languages and English. He was inspired by the example of John Gielgud who had successfully started reading Shakespeare, most of all. Many had reservations but it became acceptable and a much sought after event in the cultural calendar of the city of Lahore. Soon it spread all over and he was regularly invited by groups, bodies and companies to read in especially organised shows. These dramatic readings were other than the musharia rendition and the highly sentimentalised rendering of the text in the tradition of the Parsi theatre. The inner sensitivity of the word and the feel for the rhythms in the lines of poetry or prose was an introduction of a new type of exposition to mostly the Urdu classics. This was picked up greedily by the educated audiences that he performed for.

It also acknowledged his vast repertoire and his range of the readings that he had cultivated over the entire lifetime. The quality was always high as indeed was the expanse and the spread. He introduced the vastly growing audience to a great variety of the texts as well as the nuances embedded in the written word. For many, his rendition of the marsiya on television and the various other narratives, the voiceovers, especially in documentaries had great value culturally and historically adding that bit of authenticity to the production. The mention of the mere name, Zia Mohyeuddin, guaranteed quality and almost made him a brand.

He also set up the National Academy of Performing Arts (NAPA) in Karachi, no mean distinction, considering how hard it is in Pakistan to establish such institutions. Some of the details about the many battles that he fought in this regard were disclosed through his columns and books that he was able to compile of his writings. A stickler for propriety and protocol he was the no-nonsense type. It was his sheer determination that saw him through in a society given to a combination of sloth, concession and apathy.

The writer is a culture critic based in Lahore.