Saying ‘Goodbye’ and other ‘Islamic’ Measures
How Khuda Hafiz changed to Allah Hafiz
The Light (UK), July 2009 Issue (pp. 3–4)
In his column in the Pakistani newspaper The Dawn, 24 May 2009, Nadeem F. Paracha traces how the traditional ‘goodbye’ expression in Pakistan, Khuda Hafiz (‘may God be your guardian’), has been increasingly replaced in the past few years by Allah Hafiz in an attempt make Muslim practices and society more “Islamic”. We quote below some extracts from this column:
“The immediate history of the demise of Khuda Hafiz can be traced back to a mere six to seven years in the past. It was in Karachi some time in 2002 when a series of banners started appearing … (with) two messages. The first one advised Pakistani Muslims to stop addressing God by the informal ‘Tu’ and instead address him as ‘Aap’ (the respectful way of saying ‘you’ in Urdu). The second message advised Pakistanis to replace the term Khuda Hafiz with Allah Hafiz.
“The banners were produced and installed by Islamic organisations associated with a famous mosque in Karachi. Ever since the 1980s, this institution had been a bastion of leading puritanical doctrines of Islam. Many of the institution’s scholars were, in one way or the other, also related to the Islamic intelligentsia sympathetic to the Taliban version of political Islam and of other similar fundamentalist outfits.
“However, one just cannot study the Allah Hafiz phenomenon through what happened in 2002. This phenomenon has a direct link with the disastrous history of cultural casualties Pakistan has steadily been suffering for over thirty years now. Beyond the 2002 banner incident, whose two messages were then duly taken up by a series of Tableeghi Jamaat personnel and as well as trendsetting living room Islamic evangelists, a lot of groundwork had already taken place to culturally convert the largely pluralistic and religiously tolerant milieu of Pakistan into a singular concentration of Muslims following the “correct” version of Islam.
“The overriding reasons for this were foremost political, as General Zia-ul-Haq and his politico-religious cohorts went about setting up madressahs in an attempt to harden the otherwise softer strain of faith that a majority of Pakistanis followed so they could be prepared for the grand ‘Afghan jihad’ against the atheistic Soviet Union with a somewhat literalist and highly politicised version of Islam. The above process not only politically radicalised sections of Pakistani society, its impact was apparent on culture at large as well.”
The author later continues:
“Encouraged by their initial successes in the 1980s, Islamist culture-evangelists became a lot more aggressive in the 1990s. Drawing room and TV evangelists went about attempting to construct a “true” Islamic society, and at least one of their prescriptions was to replace the commonly used Khuda Hafiz with Allah Hafiz.
“This was done because these crusading men and women believed that once they had convinced numerous Pakistanis to follow the faith by adorning a long beard and hijab, the words Khuda Hafiz would not seem appropriate coming out from the mouths of such Islamic-looking folks. They believed that Khuda can mean any God, whereas the Muslims’ God was Allah. Some observers suggest that since many non-Muslims residing in Pakistan too had started to use Khuda Hafiz, this incensed the crusaders who thought that non-Muslim Pakistanis were trying to adopt Islamic gestures only to pollute them. The first time Allah Hafiz was used in public was in 1985 when a famous TV host, a frequent sight on PTV during the Zia era, signed off her otherwise secular show with a firm ‘Allah Hafiz.’ However, even though some Islamic preachers continued the trend in the 1990s, it did not trickle down to the mainstream until the early 2000s. As society continued to collapse inwards — especially the urban middle class — the term Allah Hafiz started being used as if Pakistanis had always said Allah Hafiz.
“So much so that today, if you are to bid farewell by saying Khuda Hafiz, you will either generate curious facial responses, or worse, get a short lecture on why you should always say Allah Hafiz instead — a clear case of glorified cultural isolationism to ‘protect’ one’s comfort zone of myopia from the influential and uncontrollable trends of universal pluralism?”
Comments by The Light:
If the words Allah Hafiz had been prescribed or recommended exactly in this form by the teachings of Islam, in the way that the expression assalamu alaikum is specified, then indeed Muslims should be advised to use these words. However, saying Khuda Hafiz is just a cultural practice, and therefore the question here is whether Muslims, in their general talk, may use some name of God other than Allah, for example Khuda. The Holy Quran says:
قُلِ ادۡعُوا اللّٰہَ اَوِ ادۡعُوا الرَّحۡمٰنَ ؕ اَیًّامَّا تَدۡعُوۡا فَلَہُ الۡاَسۡمَآءُ الۡحُسۡنٰی ۚ
“Say: Call on Allah or call on the Beneficent. By whatever (name) you call on Him, He has the best names.” (The Holy Quran, 17:110)
وَ لِلّٰہِ الۡاَسۡمَآءُ الۡحُسۡنٰی فَادۡعُوۡہُ بِہَا ۪ وَ ذَرُوا الَّذِیۡنَ یُلۡحِدُوۡنَ فِیۡۤ اَسۡمَآئِہٖ ؕ
“And Allah’s are the best names, so call on Him thereby and leave alone those who violate the sanctity of His names.” (The Holy Quran, 7:180)
In our next issue we will deal with this point further, as well as cover the other point above, that in Urdu, instead of calling Allah as ‘Tu’ one should address Him as ‘Aap’ to be more respectful.

