The First Column to appear as  Quantum Note   

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Dr. Muzaffar Iqbal

May 14, 1998

 

Pakistan: 1998

Published as Painful National realities

 

            "I love it here--the fresh fruits and vegetables, abundant sunshine, glorious weather, friendly people and no parking meters, where else can you find it all?" This is how an American acquaintance, who has spent a year in Islamabad, described Pakistan in our recent meeting. "But, I don't know," he added, "if the place will hold together for long."

            This caveat is neither new nor surprising. A large number of Pakistanis share this uncertainty with the outside observer. This is one of the most striking elements which has emerged in our recent history--this strange and painful question mark about the future of the country. High officials of the government, mill owners, teachers, intellectuals, writers and a majority of citizens harbour this unhealthy and bitter doubt about the future existence of the country. Those who are more cautious believe that the country would hold on, but they are worried about the state of its society. Would it be a place worth living if one had to constantly live under the threat of gunmen, robbers and dacoits? What about their children? Do they want them to grow up in a society which has lost all sense of direction and which is heading toward anarchy?

            The most glaring fact about Pakistan toward the close of the century is that it is in a state of explosive instability and no measures are being taken to correct the situation. The government if merely trying to cope with the day to day business. Policy planners have lost all faith in planning. Adhoc decisions, quick-fix solutions, inefficiency and sycophancy are the governing principles in the corridors of power and each new tick of the clock brings us closer to a catastrophe from which there would be no escape.

            Drive around the capital and see the long queues in front of the foreign missions. These unending queues speak of the anguish and the hopelessness of a citizenry which has lost all hope of ever living an honourable existence in the land which their fathers obtained after unimaginable sufferings just fifty years ago. For a young nation to lose its sense of hope and direction in just one generation is an indication of some fundamental flaw at the very base of the whole edifice. But no one is interested in going so deep into the core of our haphazard existence during the last fifty years. Where did we go wrong? What happened to the great ideal, to the lofty ambitions an^d immense hope which impelled millions of Muslims in the subcontinent to wage a war against the British and Hindu dominance. What went wrong and where?

            The most distressing element of our existence which stands out today is none other than the agonizing fact that in fifty years we have made mockery of all high principles, ideals and goals upon which nations are built. So much so that we have not even spared the most fundamental element of our ideological existence: Islam. During a recent visit to Jabal al-Noor, I was stupefied when an Indian Muslim said to me: If someone kills a Muslim in India, we  start rioting and set the whole country on a collision path. But what do you say to the killings of Muslims by Muslims in Pakistan and that too inside the mosques?

            But let us not forget that the most glaring failures have been at the level of political institutions. The lack of a stable political existence and accompanying corruption has eaten up the social fabric with the result that honesty, pride in being a Pakistani and importance of higher values of existence have just disappeared from our society. The unstable political situation has been so pervasive that it has penetrated all other spheres of life. Civil institutions which could have prevented this corrosion, or at least curtailed its effects, did not emerge and whatever thin veneer was present from the pre-partition period has been destroyed. One seldom hears about endowment funds anymore--something which has been the hallmark of Muslim civilization throughout centuries. Thousands of waqfs and charitable foundations ran schools, hospices and social welfare centers throughout the Muslim world; these existed as late as the nineteenth century.

            The fundamental crisis of our polity today is not the immediate problems of debt financing and the short term borrowing: these are the painful realities of our existence which will force their solutions on us whether we like them or not. The nation will keep on paying for the luxurious existence of its past and present rulers, willnilly. The pattern has been set, the die has been cast: the donor agencies will keep on sending their missions for us to host them in five star hotels. We will continue to give splendid dinners in their honour. The aid workers will keep on coming to suck even the last drop of blood from our deprived and plundered nation. No, these are not the basic questions.

            The fundamental crisis has to deal with the basic malady--the cancer which has been spread throughout the body. Where did we go wrong? What was that fundamental flaw in the very conception of our existence as a nation which became the spring board of perpetual tragedies: the massacres during the partition; the abortive attempt at regaining Kashmir, the sudden inversion of values in the newly created country; the large scale corruption and dishonesty in Partition claims; the loss of a sense of direction for the nation in its infancy; the factors responsible for the lack of emergence of an honourable political culture; the factors responsible for the emergence of one man's rule and the debacle of East Pakistan. Then, closer to the present political culture, one needs to go into the roots of the failure of the only political party which really reached out to the masses in the post-independent period the PPP.

            What was it that stirred the masses at such a fundamental level that the late Z. A. Bhutto could boast of an inseparable bond with the masses and what was it that made the same people so indifferent that no one came out when he was hanged except for a handful of diehards who were quickly forced to retreat into oblivion by the cruel hand of the General who was going to become the longest ruler of the country--the one who profaned the last fresh water spring of the national existence: the religion. In one of the official meetings during the General's rule, a proposal was presented by one of his ministers that before Islamizing the whole country, the government should make a model Islamic city. The General reportedly laughed at this proposal and his laughter, which by then had become a language in itself, silenced the propagator of the idea, once and for all.

            The cosmetic veneer of Islam which was forced on our nation during the eighties has left deep scars on the collective psyche of the nation. It has alienated a large portion of the society from Islam itself and it has, forever, discredited all those who flout the banner of Islamization. This does not mean that Islam is any danger in this society. It will never be in danger, for its roots are so deep in the psyche of our people that they know of no other existence but the one fashioned by Islam. At the individual level, Islam will always remain a source of guidance for our people. The tragedy is that this everlasting spring of fresh water has been despoiled by politicians and by its self-proclaimed defenders to the extent that the nation, as a collective body, can no more draw inspiration and guidance from it.

            Whether one sees the picture in religious context or not, has become immaterial. A few years ago, it was not so. Then, it was not unusual for conversations on domestic issues to end on the hopeful note that God will send someone to rescue us. Because then the vision which had given birth to the country was still lucid in the collective memory. But now, no one bothers about such fanciful thoughts. Even the apocalyptic versions which warned of a great calamity if we did not mend our ways have disappeared. The profane reality of everyday life has itself become a metaphor of destruction and terrible punishment.

            What is needed is a serious national debate on these fundamental questions. But those who are in charge of state institutions today are totally unaware of such a need. Their concerns are merely with the effects of the maladies which appear way down the cause and effect chain; they only see the fever and try to cure it with fever-suppressing drugs. We do not have a single statesman among us today; just politicians for whom pragmatism, expediency and apparent writ on the wall is the sum total of political and social reality. But those who are really concerned with the future of our country need to come forward with an iron resolve to take charge of the situation and initiate a serious and thorough analysis of the past failures-- a debate which would, hopefully, lead to certain solid and permanent solutions.

 

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Dr. Muzaffar Iqbal

June 5, 1998

 

 

Living with the Reality of the Bomb

Published as The bomb Factor in Life

 

 

            Within the short span of two and a half weeks, life has forever changed for 132 million Pakistanis, 967 million Indians and 125 million people in Bangladesh. May 1998 will always be remembered as a dramatic month of extra-ordinary nature in the history of South Asia. Because nuclear bombs are not capable of recognizing borders, the possibility of a fallout from an accidental or intentional explosion is no more a distant reality for over one billion people living in South Asia.

 

            By conducting nuclear tests, India took certain calculated risks. The tests were conducted with the clear realization that they will be condemned by the world community. But the Indian leadership knew very well that the furor over the tests would soon vanish and though the sanctions will remain for a while, these, too, will not last long. They must have also assumed that all these passing reactions will eventually lead to an international realization that India now possesses nuclear weapons which are as lethal as those possessed by the other five nuclear powers and that there is nothing any one can do about it any more.

 

            The Indian leadership has had experience of the power of fait accompli. No one speaks of Hyderabad Deccan, Junagadh, Manavadh, Sikkum and Goa any more and though the Kashmir remains a sour spot, there is no (*BOLD*) real (*END BOLD*) international pressure on India to find a solution for the issue. The UN resolutions on the issue are, in reality, no more than trash in the dustbin of history. We may wish to believe otherwise but the fact remains unchanged, despite our wishes. The mute and almost insignificant response of the international community over the Indian blasts is an indication that the Indian leadership was not too far off the mark in their calculations.

 

            The flow of events, once again, brought Nawaz Sharif's government to an important threshold. Last time, it was the Gulf war. Then, the Nawaz Government had failed miserably to play an active role in the conflict; it merely followed the American agenda against the wishes of its people. Instead of making an all out effort to mobilize Muslim countries and OIC to effectively intervene in the conflict between Iraq and Kuwait before the US led coalition could jump in to harvest the riches, the Nawaz Government then played a passive role. It waited and let the events take a course which led to the destruction of two Muslim countries, millions of dollars of contracts for the American and European companies and long term misery and deprivation for the Iraqi population.

 

            This time around, the decision making process concerned us directly. The government had to decide and decide quickly. Unlike the last time, the decision came swiftly and in accordance with the wishes of the majority of people. The fact that Pakistan was forced to test its nuclear devices is so obvious that even those who were quick to condemn the tests were left with no choice but to acknowledge this reality. Had Pakistan not taken the decisive step, there was a real danger to its whole nuclear program from both India and Israel. So, in essence, Pakistan had no choice but to do what it did.

 

            The folly committed by India has definitely put the whole of South Asia in a totally new zone of destructive possibilities. There is nothing left for all those peace idealists who are still clamouring about the tests but to learn to live with the new reality or leave the subcontinent all together. The one liner in last week's Economist sums it up: "What has been tested can be detested but cannot be de-tested."

 

            Now that the dramatic events of the fateful May are fast becoming an old tale and the headlines reporting the reaction of various countries to the Indian and then Pakistani tests are gradually being replaced by other, more gripping events, the people of South Asia have to wake up to the reality of the nuclear bombs and be ready to pay the price.

 

            At present, it is hard to imagine any admirable futures for South Asia. The region as a whole has tremendous potential but the only images that crop up in the imagination are those of a famished populace, devoid of hope and now living under the threat of nuclear war. It is hard to imagine futures which will ensure adequate health care, education, roads, clean water, just distribution of wealth and resources and a pollution-free environment worthy of breathing.

 

            So much has changed in the recent weeks for both India and Pakistan that one has to talk about the future with certain caveats. Until these tests were conducted, the focus was on the economic scenarios for the future. Major problems faced by both India and Pakistan were, and remain, their unstable economies, underdeveloped infrastructures, overpopulation, lack of adequate resources for education, health and other social sector programs, the widening gap between the rich and the poor and corruption at the highest levels of society. The sudden explosions have pushed all these stark realities to the background and because both nations have a parchment for high drama and emotional outbursts, the uproar over the bombs have been so loud that it seems that the atomic explosions have also wiped out all those real and long term problems. But surely, the reality will hit and in a much harder way for the new arms race between India and Pakistan is bound to swallow much more and consume those precious resources which were needed by the social sector. Both governments have to make major policy shifts in order to pay the price of a new category of hardware.

 

            But the glimmer of hope has not died completely for behind the loud commotion and deafening slogans, there are muffled voices on both sides of the border, calling for a renewed effort for peaceful co-existence. Now that both countries have demonstrated their ability to annihilate each other, it has become even more important to settle the scores at the negotiation table rather than have no scores at all. One whole generation has already lived with the horrors of bloodshed, hatred and fear created by the horrendous mistakes committed during the process of Partition. The next generations need not live in the shadow of a nuclear cloud. There has to be a mature realization that both countries need a space of their own to come out of the shadows of their past and reconstruct new futures.

 

            For those in the position of leadership on both sides of the border, time has come to seriously think about the collective future of the South Asian people. There is no escape from the reality that their geographical location has bound them to a common future. The May explosions have further integrated their common fate and one can no more think of destruction of one country without the imminent destruction of the other. On both sides of the border, enough voices are needed which can bring to the forefront images of a healthy future toward which the population can aspire to move. The political leadership on both sides of the border has harvested a rich bounty of instant popularity but as soon as the collective body of both nations exhausts itself through shouting slogans it is bound to look for clean drinking water and finding none, it will either perish or become limp. Then the economic realities will hit, and harder than ever.

 

            It is high time that leaders on both sides of the border realize that the bombs have not changed the stark economic and social realities faced by their people; if anything, they have further reduced the possibility of an economic and social transformation which alone can guarantee an era of peace, prosperity and honourable existence. By conducting the tests, India has forced its way to the sixth and Pakistan to the seventh position on the list of nuclear "powers" but the most important question for both countries remains: What else do they have in common with the other five?

 

July 3, 1998

The News

 

The overseas Pakistani

 

Recent events and their economic impact has once again made the overseas Pakistani a precious living entity for economic planners of the Nawaz

government. The prime minister's recent foreign tour was especially designed to tap the resources of overseas Pakistanis. Torn between two different worlds, unhappy about the situation "back home" and in conflict with the inner self, the typical overseas Pakistani is used to such occasions when passionate appeals are made to him. All of these appeals are meant to entice him to send his hard earned money back home to help resolve a crisis which is not of his making. This time around the lure of plots, especially designated for the overseas community, has been added to the emotional content of the appeal.

 

Whether or not such an appeal would find a response is yet to be seen but this column is not about the immediate effect of the Prime Minister's appeal; it is an attempt to create a living metaphor out of  the dilemmas and travail of an overseas Pakistani living in North America whose life represents thousands of others in the same situation.

 

Unable to live with the agonising realities of his native land, our protagonist left his country in search of a professional career. He is highly educated and dedicated to his profession but he could not survive in Pakistan because of the intrigues and snobbish mentality prevalent in the research and academic institutions. Once out of the daily brawls and intrigues, he could devote his energies to creative thinking, research and professional excellence. As a result, he has been highly successful

in a very competitive environment. His successes have earned him an enviable reputation and it has provided a high level of material

comfort; but there is something missing in his life.

 

Because of the years he spent in Pakistan, he is unable to forget the land, the people, the fragrance, the fruits, the language and all those small things that go into making life meaningful. It is a fact that in spite of the terrible mistakes which have been made during the last 50 years, Pakistan remains a living force in the lives of its citizens. It is this strange living force which produces a nostalgic sadness and a void in the life of overseas Pakistanis. As a result of this void, the overseas Pakistani professional is perpetually living in two worlds: the world of his ancestors and the world his children are going to inherent.

 

The world of the ancestors carries with it a fragrance of the bygone centuries bringing into sharp relief the rich mosaic of the civilisations and cultures which have gone into the making of Pakistani society. This splendid world is made up of middle eastern folklore, Indian myths and customs, rituals and rites of Islam and the living sufi

traditions which have flowered in the subcontinent. It is a world composed of the elements of human experiences spread over centuries and lived in a land in which people have employed some of the most enchanting forms of creative expression in poetry to articulate their hopes and desires, sorrows and joys: the 'ghazal', the 'qasida' and the 'marthia'.

 

The hues and shades of the civilisation inherited by Pakistan carry with them the ancient rituals of life, steeped in a religious tradition which has infused the whole experience with the divine presence. This is a unique blend produced by the mixing of Islam's civilisational aspects with the local cultures and languages. Punjabi, Pashto, Sindhi, Balochi and other regional languages of Pakistan have been enriched by their interaction with Arabic and Persian. The ancient land routes that pass

through this region have further helped in the synthesis of a civilisation which blended the Middle Eastern and South Asian folklore, legends, myths and tales.

 

The overseas Pakistani carries all this in their blood. But his world also contains the memories of a colonial past and the humiliations and terrible suffering of his own life which forced him to abandon his homeland. However, time has blunted his own agonising experiences and whatever is left is enormously important to him; without his personal history, memories and experiences, he is prone to lose his identity. He is also keen to transfer all or some of this to his children. Therefore,

his attachment to his native land has a strong emotional content.

 

The thought of going "back home" is constantly present in his mind like the cosmic background radiation. He is always thinking of the ways in which he can help his country and community on the other side of the ocean. He has seen how the system works in North America; he has analysed the reasons for the failure of the civil society to evolve respectable forms of life, functional infrastructures and equitable distribution of resources in his own country. In his own way, he has found solutions to all the apparent problems of the country. He is full of resources, enthusiasm and energy. He knows that small things matter because he has seen how small steps are appreciated in the society where he lives and how these small steps make a huge difference in the lives of people.

 

His dilemma is the fact that he lacks a viable means to put into practice all these schemes he has dreamt up over the years. He knows that what he has learned in North America can be of service to his country but he also knows those who have tried to replant themselves "back home" and who have returned with bitter experiences. He is aware of the huge emotional, psychological and economic cost of such a move.

 

But in spite of this knowledge and information about the experiences of fellow expatriates, he cannot stop making plans about the day he will return to Pakistan. This insistent, almost obsessive, preoccupation with the country of his birth cultivates an emotional state which is very responsive to any appeal made on behalf Pakistan.

 

But over the years, the overseas Pakistani has also learned that the sacrifices he would make in response to any appeal would amount to nothing. Hence his dilemma is irresolvable. He shares this with millions other Pakistanis who have abandoned their homeland for various reasons. Pakistan has suffered tremendously from this flight of talented people but so far no government has realised the long-term impact of this drain. The shortsighted policy planners are merely interested in the

green dollar; they have little or no concern with the terrible price overseas Pakistanis have to pay for earning these dollars. This attitude of the policy planners and economists in Pakistan has reduced the overseas Pakistani into a commodity. This commodity figures prominently in the budget calculations; it is relied upon for payment of debt and the rulers go on tours to tap this resource when in trouble. This is perhaps the most dehumanising aspect of the dilemma of the overseas

Pakistani. He was not treated like a human being when he lived among his people and he is not being treated like one even in his absence.

 

 

Friday: July 17, 1998

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Dr. Muzaffar Iqbal

 

                                                The Legacy of Betrayals (I)

 

           [The recent freezing of the Foreign Currency Accounts is a betrayal of the trust posed by the citizens in the State. Unlike the Cooperative scam and the Taj Company fraud, this time around, citizens have been deprived of their savings by the state in a move which has no legal or moral justification. This betrayal is, however, only one more in a series of betrayals which the citizens of Pakistan have experienced during the last fifty years. The Legacy of Betrayals (I) is the first part of an article devoted to the exploration of various dimensions of this sad legacy.]

 

            Sitting around a candle, which was quietly melting down from all sides as if silently weeping, hardly anyone noticed the effects of excessive alcohol in the habitually drunken voice that announced over the transistor radio that the nation will fight to the end.

 

            "The soldiers on the war front, the peasants in their fields, the workers in their factories and the students in their schoolsCeveryone will fight until the last enemy soldier has been driven out of the sacred land," the voice announced. The volunteers in the civil defence post heard the announcement with a mixture of exhilaration and zeal and went out to guard the streets. The voice was that of the President of Pakistan, General Muhammad Yahya Khan. The listeners in that civil defence post in Lahore in that dark night of December 1971 were a group of college and university students who had spent the previous weeks patrolling the streets at night and getting first aid training during the day-time, all the time praying for the victory of their army which was fighting to save the country from dismemberment.

 

            The announcement was heard with a sigh of relief; rumors about the fall of Dhaka were, after all, just rumors. The nation, according to the President, was ready to fight until the last soldier and that was enough for those who listened to his words on that cold December night; they were young and enthusiastic men whose patriotic feelings had been aroused by the fiery speeches of one Zulfikar Ali Bhutto during the formative period of their lives in the late sixties. To hear the President speak of fighting to the last man was all that mattered to them; they were not concerned with the price they would have to pay. They went out of the darkened room to guard the streets against Indian infiltrators who were rumoured to have landed in various places around the city.

 

            Less than twenty-four hours later, most of them were shattered with the news of surrender of their army to the Indian forces. The taste of betrayal was new to this generation. Born after the Partition and raised in the relatively stable environment of the early sixties, this generation had no personal memory of betrayals of another kind, which had shocked and shattered a previous generation.

 

            Most of these young people were also unaware of the travail of the man who had conceived the name of their country and who had spent all his life in a doomed struggle to go against the current of his times. That man was to write the first account of the betrayals in that agonizing book, "The Greatest Betrayal" which no one reads today. Perhaps no one among that group even knew that having given the name to the un-named dream held by millions of Muslims of the subcontinent, Chaudhri Rahmat Ali was not even granted six feet of land for burial in his dreamland;  he died in a nursing home in England and was buried in a nameless grave number B8330 in the New Market Road cemetery in Cambridge. Today, no one celebrates his birth or death anniversaries; no one cares to remember him. No, that extraordinary life and the bitter taste of betrayal he tasted was only shared by a few of his own generation. The sweep of political events quickly buried that first betrayal deep in the collective consciousness of the nation and no one has time for digging up that ghost.

 

            Those who tasted the bitter taste of betrayal on that December night belonged to a different generation. They were to be heirs to a "new Pakistan" created from the debris of what was left behind by the drunkard general. They had no personal memories of a united India where their fathers and grandfathers had to struggle to keep their Muslim identity. The uncertain fifties, the long and painful process of evolution of a Constitution for the federation and even the first Martial Law were just distant events for them. This generation had gained political consciousness during the autumn of the Patriarch who had snatched power from the inept civilians through a double betrayal: he violated the sacred oath he had sworn under the '56 Constitution and betrayed Sikandar Mirza who himself had betrayed the elected representatives. The Patriarch gave birth to the legacy of the military rule and opened up the corridors of power to those who were paid to defend the frontiers of the country. After a decade the Patriarch handed over the reigns of the country to the drunkard general perhaps as a punishment for what he himself felt was a two-fold betrayal: by his own "adopted son" and by the nation as a whole.

 

            The "adopted son" had stirred up a social revolution with his fiery speeches and with his cat-in-the-bag tricks; and the nation had shown no appreciation of almost ten years of steady progress and social stability.

 

            During the sad autumn of the Patriarch, the streets of the pure land had become filled with angry rioters, the plunder of national wealth by twenty-two families had become a hot topic on every tongue and the ungrateful nation had no time for the old, upright man who had outlived his times. He wept bitterly on the eve they brought out a dog with his name hung around its neck. Having seen that dog, he called it a day and as a punishment to the ungrateful nation handed over the reigns to the man whose passion for wine and women was to hasten the dismemberment of the country in an agonizing, death-like process during the next thousand and one nights.

 

            Shattered but not broken, this generation was to see the emergence of a "new Pakistan" after the drunk general left the debris to the adopted son of the Patriarch. They witnessed the signing of the 1973 Constitution, the repatriation of Prisoners of War and the short-lived optimism of the early seventies. Their hopes were still alive. They had the zeal and the energy and the Charismatic leader was in power, so things could be put back to order.

 

            But the rising prices of the oil and the new found wealth in the Middle East soon allured the Charismatic leader and his close companions and they came up with the plan of exporting a whole generation of young men much before their maturity. The created a new ministry for this purpose. Thus economic necessities, social pressures and sheer sense of adventure drove thousands of young men out of their country. They went everywhere: from the sun-burned deserts of Saudi Arabia to the snowbound polar regions of Greenland. A sense of hope and adventure accompanied them.

 

            Those who were left behind, saw the rapid and shocking transformation of civil society. They were subjected to successive experiments by rulers who could not think beyond the outdated paradigm of nationalization. As a result, this generation witnessed a sweeping and chaotic process of nationalization of the economy at a time when the nations of the Far East were opening up their countries to privatization of state enterprises and to heavy foreign investment--a strategy which would produce economic boom in the late eighties and early nineties.

 

            Those who stayed behind during the early seventies also saw the rapid deterioration of the social norms and values which had kept the moral fabric of the society intact during the first quarter century of the country's existence. The institutional structure, which still had a flavour of that long and terrible legacy of colonial rule, started to breakdown. Nationalization of banks, industry and educational institutions gave birth to one white elephant after another. Instead of the notorious twenty-two families, now a gang of upstarts started to play havoc with the lives of millions of people who had deposited their trust in the hands of a charismatic leader who could not stand any opposition to his self-assured ways of doing things. This was the beginning of a betrayal of another kind.

 

            Instead of rotti kapra aur makan, those who had been in the forefront of the new wave found themselves face to face with state terrorism. The new social contract which some had dreamt during the struggle of late sixties turned out to be just a daydream. Dreamers like, Miraj Muhammad Khan and J. A. Rahim, were soon removed from the scene; one paid the price for dreaming with his eyesight which was brutally snatched from him during a long solitary confinement, the other escaped with a few scars. Those who were left behind had nothing but flattering words for the ears of the charismatic leader who now could not stand any opposition to his self-created designs for the "new Pakistan".

 

            Soon the crowd of sycophants whose hats could be pulled down any time, in public or in private, confounded the charismatic leader with their chorus of sycophancy. This chorus was also a double betrayal of yet another kind: at one level to their own inner selves and another against the nation.

            This betrayal was to lead the charismatic leader to death but during those heady days, no one dared to stand up to him and no one could stand in the way of the man who had stirred the hopes and aspiration of a generation which had tasted the first personal taste of betrayal on that cold December night when the country was dismembered.

 

(to be continued)

 

 

For Friday: July 24, 1998

Published on july 23, 1998

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Dr. Muzaffar Iqbal

 

                         The Trail of Betrayals (II)

 

[First 3 sentences changed a bit, look carefully to decide which one to keep]

 

      Not everyone believed the charismatic man from Larkana. But those who believed him were ready to die for him. He had appeared on the national scene with a potpourri of tricks which enthralled millions of people who had never before had a voice in the national affairs: peasants, labourers, unskilled and semi-skilled workers of industrial units owned and operated by a handful of industrialists.

 

He had a message for everyone. They opened their hearts to his voice. In a short span of time, he traversed the whole length and breadth of the country and reached out to millions of human beings in such a personal way that those who heard him speak felt that he was directly talking to them.

     He spoke that universal language of the heart which binds human beings in a bond stronger than death. He had learned this

language of the heart by abandoning the comfort and indulgence of the life of a rich landowner. He had given up the life of luxury for a grandeur far beyond his own reach. But those who heard him speak for hours under the burning sun had no idea of the complexity of emotions he experienced during those extempore speeches which carried thousands to ecstatic states of complete abandonment. The citizens of Pakistan had never experienced anything like it. He created a bond with them which he thought would last until the end of history.

      But he was not destined to attain an untainted glory; the country had to be dismembered before he could enter the corridors

of power. But as luck would have it, he entered the corridors of power by creating history: he was the first civilian to become

Chief Martial Law Administrator. But that was not all; he was also to be the first to hold the high offices of the President and Prime Minister of the country. But he was not interested in titles, not yet. He had the Herculean task of re-building a new Pakistan from the debris left behind by the drunkard general.

      He embarked upon this task with a zeal and commitment which was unheard of in the history of the country. He worked sixteen to eighteen hours a day. Everything had to be done in a new fashion and he could not entrust tasks to others; he had to oversee

everything himself. His passion for grandeur drove him to insomnia.

 

But the long, sleepless nights were the best for work and he could summon his ministers and friends at anytime of the night; they all came with tired bodies and sleepy eyes but as soon as they entered the sphere of his passionate creativity, further heightened by the heavy intake of hard liquor, they would warm up to the grand schemes which his mind churned out at an astonishing speed.

      These were the initial years of his reign; the grand dream was still alive, his vision was sharp and he was pushing bills through the parliament legislating reform after reform: education, industry, agriculture, science and technology... everything needed urgent attention. He created new institutions, addressed meetings of the high officials of the government, fired and hired senior bureaucrats as he pleased, kept a watch on international affairs, established trade and cooperation with countries of the eastern block of the now defunct Soviet Union, went to those countries where no Pakistani leader had ever gone.

      Amidst all this, he did not forget the peasants and the workers, students and clerks, lawyers and haris who had brought him to power. He continuously kept a close relationship with them, going to places in the country where no head of state had ever set foot. He knew the old peasant, Allah Bukhsh of Vehari, who needed treatment for his failing eyesight as well as he knew chairman Moa and Gamal Nasir.

      His opponents stood back and watched him as he moved from one glory to another. They could not resist him. He charmed them. They all came and signed on the document which was to add a new feather to the crown of achievements he was wearing: The signing of the 1973 Constitution in a remarkably short time gave a solid constitutional foundation to new country which was being carved out of the debris of the post-dismemberment period.

      But the ink was hardly dry on this historic document when the dream started to turn sour. Those who had been watching him from the side lines could not wait any longer. He was moving fast but steps he had taken so far had not produced the results he had promised. The sudden rise in the oil prices and the resultant inflation in the country, failure of the nationalized units to produce economically beneficial outputs and a strong opposition to his brand of "socialism" started to worry him. There was something fundamentally wrong with the country. He had put all his efforts and energy in creating a new Pakistan but his efforts were being wasted. He could not stand any opposition. Those pygmies, he thought, had neither the intellectual resources nor the vision to see his grand schemes. He lost patience and used all the power and might of State to crush the opposition.

      He invented crimes to implicate his opponents in unending trials. He sent men in khaki to fight against their own people and he bombarded his own country with bullets and bombs bought with the blood and sweat of his own people. This betrayal of the trust and faith posed in his being was violated because he wanted more power than the poor people of the country could give him.

      Those who did not believe in him found themselves in the terrible stone buildings of the Lahore Fort where the sadistic

Goeblers of his regime subjected them to electric shocks, pulled their nails and put their naked bodies on slabs of ice. They were forced to confess crimes they had not even dreamt about. The new apparatus of oppression set up by the cronies of the charismatic leader broke all past records and produced the legacy of state crimes which no one had time to document. The untold suffering of the young men who disagreed with the charismatic leader echoed in the stone corridors of the Lahore Fort and then disappeared into oblivion.

      Amidst the crumbling dream and unsatisfied with what he had attained, the charismatic leader looked out, first toward the third world and then toward the Muslim world. He wanted to lead a greater entity than the truncated state of Pakistan. In the process, he found new markets and started to export human beings; this was a ludicrous scheme which produced instant riches for those who dealt in this trade. The harsh working conditions for thousands of workers who went out to the Middle East and the paltry sums they earned did not disturb the conscience of those who had invented a modern form of slave labour; they were merely interested in their own share from the black trade. Those who sent thousands of Pakistanis to the Gulf were also not concerned about the drain of a valuable human resource which was needed for reconstruction of

the country; they only looked at the quick money which could be made. The charismatic leader himself found the new avenue alluring.

There was glory in the vast, uncharted territory of the Muslim world's leadership.

      But before his dreams of a glory beyond his reach could materialize, he fell victim to a betrayal which ranks equal to the Shakespearean tragedies: the humble man with black eyes and white teeth struck during the summer night of July fourth. This betrayal was to be the beginning of yet another era for the nation. The man who chose to depose the charismatic leader from Larkana was under oath to abide by the Constitution which had been signed by even

those who were outside the influence of his charisma.

      This betrayal of the sacred oath was the beginning of a new era for the country which was to fundamentally transform the social, political and economic structures of the country through a series of betrayals.

                               (to be continued)

 

 

[The Trail of Betrayl part III, was not published by The News; this remains the only Quantum Note denied publication by the News due to “the critique of military”; it is presented here for general reading for the first time.]

 

 

 

----------------------

Dr. Muzaffar Iqbal

 

12 August 1998

 

The Unfulfilled Dream

 

 

Homeland, a footloose darkness

On the banks of brooks--

racing down from craggy uplands--

has become the smoke