Saudi influence in Pakistan was not new. So far, it had taken the form of benevolent generosity for grand projects, like a national mosque for which King Faisal had donated $120 million in the 1960s. But the subcontinent was steeped in Indo-Persian culture, and Pakistan’s heritage was layered with centuries of Persian influence, from literature and poetry to food and music – and also its national language. Urdu is filled with thousands of Persian words and the national anthem is almost entirely in Persian. Historically and culturally, Pakistan felt closer to Iran, on its western border, than to the countries across the Arabian Sea. Religious scholars with connections in Mecca and Medina, like Mawdudi, felt differently. The scholar had long impressed Saudi kings; his books had been read in the kingdom since the 1950s, the Jamaat had long-standing ties with Saudi clerics, and Mawdudi sat on the board of the Islamic University of Medina, where the blind sheikh Bin Baz was vice rector.On September 25, 1978, as the revolution was taking hold of Iran and Khomeini was about to head to France, a small item appeared in Pakistan’s biggest English-language daily, Dawn, announcing the arrival of the “special assistant to King Khaled of Saudi Arabia” to advise the Council of Islamic Ideology on the “Islamisation of laws in Pakistan” at the special request of Zia. Maarouf Dawalibi was a former Syrian prime minister, ousted from Syria and jailed in 1963. He had also served as a foreign minister and struck up a friendship with his Saudi counterpart, Prince Faisal. Released from prison in 1964, Dawalibi was invited to serve in the Saudi royal court by his friend Faisal, who had become king. A statesman and a professor of Islamic law, educated at the Sorbonne, Dawalibi was exactly the kind of learned man that Saudi kings surrounded themselves with at the time, from Egypt and the Levant, eventually appointing some as governors, emissaries, or ambassadors. Dawalibi, married to a French woman he’d met while studying in Paris, was pious but progressive, and King Faisal had often used him to reason with retrograde clerics like Bin Baz. Dawalibi despised Bin Baz and thought of him as nothing more than a mediocre village preacher. And yet, in 1978, Dawalibi, then serving as an adviser to King Khaled, was about to play a key role in imposing on Pakistan a system of life closer to Bin Baz’s vision for society, propelling Pakistan into its darkest decade.Newspapers reported on Dawalibi’s meeting with various officials, including the justice minister, the members of the Council of Islamic Ideology, and of course, Mawdudi. There was flowery coverage of the “renowned Muslim jurist” coming from the land blessed with the message of Islam and with the riches of oil, the land where several hundred thousand Pakistanis now worked in everything from construction to mining to services, sending millions of rupees back home in remittances. But for most Pakistanis reading the news, there was not much more to it. The context was clear only in private, during meetings and at a reception held by the Saudi ambassador for Dawalibi. At those, there was grandiose talk as Dawalibi described “the elimination of secular systems and of their replacement by shari’a law as the greatest hope for all mankind.” He praised Zia as a sincere Muslim and expressed his hope that countries like Egypt could emulate Pakistan.In their missives back to Washington, somewhat perplexed American diplomats described what seemed to be a fad to them, “Islamania,” adding that there were no concrete proposals: “implementation remains elusive.”Behind the scenes, Dawalibi was in fact very busy putting pen to paper and turning this nebulous vision into a reality. He helped the Council of Islamic Ideology frame the new Islamic laws, writing them in Arabic at the council’s offices. The laws were then translated into English and Urdu by a team of 15. By early 1979, everything was ready.In Iran, the government of Bakhtiar had fallen on February 11, 1979, and the Islamic revolution had been declared victorious. But just a day earlier, on February 10, Zia had made a 48-minute speech and announced he was imposing Nizam-i-Islam on Pakistan, effective immediately – in other words, Pakistan would now be governed by shari’a (Islamic) law. Nizam, the Arabic word for “system,” is also often used to mean a regime, and so, appropriately, Zia’s dictatorial regime would now rule with an Islamic system of government. This meant changing the country’s legal code and introducing harsh punishments for offences that violated the boundaries of behaviour set by God in the Quran: intoxication, fornication, false allegations of fornication, and theft. The ordinances, known as hudood, Arabic for “boundaries,” were very detailed and took up whole pages in the Pakistani newspapers. From then on, drinkers would be flung, adulterers would be stoned to death, thieves would have their hands chopped off. More was coming: Zia wanted to Islamise the entire economy, the legal system, society, everything.The announcement stunned Mehtab, the young television anchor. She had seen the incremental changes around her, she had sensed the fear, she knew there had been public floggings, but it all felt temporary, like an unpleasant dream. And though most of the country was probably equally stunned, it appeared as though Pakistan was celebrating because Zia, an expert stage master and manipulator, had chosen the joyous occasion of the prophet’s birthday to make his announcement.Eid-e-milad-ul-nabi in Urdu, or mawled al- nabi in Arabic, the occasion was just as colourful in Pakistan as it was in Morocco or Indonesia. In big cities and small villages of Pakistan, green flags and bunting hung on the streets, which were lined with food stalls and cultural events. Garlands of bright lights lit up the walls of mosques. The preparations for the celebrations had started days before. On the day itself, the prayers, processions, and children playing on the streets distracted Pakistanis and filled the silence as the nation slipped further into darkness. King Khaled of Saudi Arabia sent a cable to congratulate Zia, saying he was moved and looked forward to “seeing the application of Islamic laws in all Muslim countries.”Despite the press coverage of Dawalibi’s visits to Pakistan, the extent of his involvement in writing the laws was not made public. There was much secrecy around his role, and only years later would a Pakistani jurist doing a review of the work of the Council of Islamic Ideology uncover what he described as the “revolting” details of what had happened in its offices as Saudi Arabia imposed itself on Pakistan, effectively writing a defining chapter of the country’s history.On February 11, the day after Zia’s announcement of Nizam-i-Islam, the same day that Khomeini declared his victory in Iran, bars, brothels, and breweries were officially shut down in Pakistan. Murree Brewery in Rawalpindi, founded in 1860, had to close its doors, its stock confiscated. Until then, foreigners and non-Muslims had been allowed to consume or produce alcohol, and hotels still served it. But in a flash, 10,000 licenses were revoked across the country. In Khomeini’s Iran, there was still chaos and street battles, but there, too, zealots were destroying bottles of champagne and fine wine.On February 14, Zia spoke to CBS television and was asked if there were parallels between what he was trying to achieve and what was happening in Iran. “Yes,” replied the general, “there were parallels in that we were first off .” Pakistan had even managed to impose Islamic law with less violence and upheaval than Iran, he added proudly.From Egypt to Pakistan, there seemed to be a desire to emulate or outdo Iran. Perhaps Mawdudi had even accelerated the push for Islamising Pakistan’s laws when he had seen Khomeini’s revolution picking up steam at the end of 1978 and the ayatollah becoming a media star in Paris. Had he quickened the pace even further after Khomeini had returned to Iran on February 1? After all, Mawdudi had known of the ayatollah’s grand ambitions ever since they had met in 1963 and had inspired some of Khomeini’s vision.A week later, Mawdudi received the first King Faisal International Award for services to Islam, a prize that carried a cash gift of $200,000, which the Saudis went on to award every year, often to scholars and clerics with radical views. Dawalibi paid Mawdudi a home visit in Lahore to congratulate him on his work.The Saudis would never really acknowledge their role in the transformation of Pakistan, one that they had helped to start before 1979. This was in line with their own worldview, which had nothing whatsoever to do with Iran or Khomeini’s movements. But Iran’s revolution meant that trends that had been simmering, separately but simultaneously, across the Muslim world were now being celebrated and turbocharged, and would start to become entrenched. The ramparts were falling away.For Pakistan, the impact of the events of 1979, especially the Soviet invasion of Afghanistan, meant that Zia was becoming an indispensable ally of Saudi Arabia and the United States and would be able to withstand the repeated challenges by his own people to his oppressive zealot rule.Excerpted with permission from Black Wave: Saudi Arabia, Iran and the Rivalry That Unravelled the Middle East, Kim Ghattas, Wildfire/Hachette UK.