| February 17, 2003 | Monday | Zul Hijjah 15, 1423 |
Multan: from early riches to the fall
Returning the compliment
Always ready for a fight
Domestic politics seems to have taken a back seat after February 8 when the CEC announced the final list of Senate candidates. Though both the president and the prime minister spent their Eid holidays in the capital, they were seemingly engaged in formal meetings and calls-on rather than politicking, the favourite game of Pakistani rulers.
Today’s super duper Pakistani politician, Chaudhry Shujaat Hussain, who has in his hands the ruling party as well as the Punjab, was himself out of the country which naturally brought to a standstill his kind of politics that is now dominating Pakistan. Of course, rates for Senate seats in Sindh, the NWFP and Balochistan have reportedly jumped to around Rs7 million a piece in the meantime. Still, the market seems to be giving a closed down look. The Chaudhry of Chaudhris is expected to return in a couple of days and re-open the political bazaar.
It was not only Eid which kept the capital festive but politically calm. Iraq and the World Cup too seem to have contributed to pushing domestic politics to the back seat. The talk of the town throughout the week was the Pakistan-Australia World Cup match. Everyone had his own theory why Pakistan lost by such a big margin. As usual the conspiracy theorists had a field day because nobody was ready to accept the fact that the better team had won.
While it was frustration that reeked from all the cricket talk, the Iraq discourse seemed to be too sobering for the liking of Islamabad’s chattering classes. Invariably, the talk on Iraq would turn to what President Musharraf himself had said in Lahore a couple of weeks back about how some people have started saying that after Iraq it would be Pakistan’s turn. And over the weeks a pattern similar to the one witnessed in the Iraqi imbroglio has emerged which adds to the apprehension. The world community prompted by India refuses to believe (like Bush refuses to believe that Iraq does not have weapons of mass destruction) that no infiltration was taking place across the LoC. Mr Bush is accusing Iraq without evidence. Similarly, the world community continues to blame Pakistan for the woes of India in held Kashmir without producing any evidence. Last time when the Russians instigated by India accused Pakistan of sponsoring infiltration, Islamabad reportedly invited Moscow to send a team to the Pakistan side of the LoC to see for itself that nothing was going on there. But Russia reportedly showed no interest in the offer. And India reacted typically to the President’s visit to Moscow. As soon as he returned from Russia after having persuaded the leaders there that they had the needed lever in New Delhi to encourage Indian leaders to back off and resume talks with Pakistan, the BJP government concocted one of the most brazen cases against the acting high commissioner of Pakistan and expelled him from the country. This was seemingly done perhaps to preempt any Russian move to use its lever in New Delhi to reduce tensions in South Asia. At the same time, the Indians have used the deception to de-recognize the Hurriyat as a political group and reduced it in the process to the level of a terrorist group with whom no negotiations could be held.
Interestingly, just before India concocted the charges against our DHC and the expulsion of the two acting high commissioners from the respective countries, India and Pakistan had reportedly agreed on the names of their respective new deputy high commissioners to be posted in each other’s capitals to replace the (expelled) DHCs who had already completed their respective tenures. Even the visas of the new DHCs are reported to have been finalized. It is not known why Pakistan had kept this agreement a secret and provided India with a handle to beat it with publicly. In the early days of his rule President Musharraf used to debunk the talk that Pakistan then stood completely isolated in the international arena by arguing that as long as the world remained concerned about fundamentalism, nuclear proliferation, drug- trafficking and the perceived expansionist ambitions of China, it would never abandon Pakistan. This argument of his seems to have attained a frightening meaning for Pakistan in the context of the post 9/11 world. Nobody is talking today about India’s nuclear weaponry or Israel’s basement bomb. In fact, signs have appeared which indicate that the world might after all accept both India and Israel into the nuclear club. On the other hand, right at this moment, US experts are talking with Pakistani experts in Washington about Islamabad’s nuclear programme. Why? The world refuses to take our word on the infiltration question and at the same time it wants us to guarantee that our nuclear assets are fully secured and will not fall in the hands of fundamentalists. Isn’t it time, therefore, to take a closer look at Pakistan’s current foreign policy and try to adjust it to the new challenges before we are made to do it by outsiders? But before we embark on this exercise, will it not be advisable to accept that those who have been designing and managing our foreign policy over the last 25 years or so have failed miserably and that this job should now be handed over once and for all to the politicians, no matter how clumsy they appear to be and how defective their mandate is? The elected politicians represent the collective wisdom of the entire nation. They would know what the nation wants better than those who sit in their headquarters and design policies in accordance with the special needs and requirements of their own institution rather than the nation. Of course, no foreign policy can be designed without the input of various civil and military institutions. But their contributions should be confined to providing inputs only and they should never be allowed to formulate foreign policy strategies for which they are neither trained nor qualified.— M. Ziauddin
LAST week, I gave you an account of Multan city from Mooltan, During and After the Siege. The year given was ‘MDCLCXLIX’. That should make it 1849. The small book, as I told you, has now been translated by Zubair Shafi Ghauri of the Railways.
Today, I propose to give you excerpts from two more chapters, The Inhabitants of Mooltan and South View of the Eedgah, Where Vans Agnew and Anderson were Murdered.
About the inhabitants of the ancient city, the book says:
The inhabitants of Mooltan numbered before the siege, it is said, about 80,000. One-third of them were Hindoos, the rest either Mahomedans, or Sikhs, following the peculiar creed —- a dissent from Hindooism effected in the fifteenth century —- professed by that people.
The two former castes are chiefly engaged in commerce, and there are many rich men among them. Fifteen Mooltan merchants were computed, a short time since, to possess, collectively, a million and a half of rupees. Being the entrepot of a vast transit trade carried on through the Punjaub and the adjoining territories, Mooltan lately acquired a large banking business, in which it supplanted Shikarpore. Up to the recent capture, the commercial prosperity of the city was rapidly increasing.
Our business is, however, less with the trading Hindoo and Mahomedan, than with the warlike Sikh inhabitants of Mooltan, which recent events made usually numerous. They showed themselves more brave and skillful in war than we had previously given them credit for. Though subject to panics when in masses, and, consequently, not so firm before an enemy as the natives in our own service, yet their individual courage is remarkable. “The bold indifference to danger,” says the Author of Three Months in the Marches of Mooltan, “with which they advance almost to the muzzles of our guns, and fire into our very embrasures, indicates a degree of personal courage surpassed by none. A recent case is much in point:- Hearing an outcry that a party of the enemy (four in number, and all on foot) were robbing the neighbouring village, an aide-de-camp, who was at hand, galloped with half a dozen local horse to the rescue; two of the thieves beat a hasty retreat with their booty, a third threw down his sword, but the fourth first levelled and fired at the approaching party, then throwing away his matchlock, drew his tulwar, and bravely, and for some time successfully, defended himself against the gentleman, wounding and unhorsing one of his followers, until he was almost hacked to pieces by the party.”
The military skill which the Sikh army has acquired is of recent date, and is chiefly owing to the genius of Runjeet Singh, but partly to the drilling of French officers. In 1822, Generals Allard and Ventura, who had belonged to the army of Napoleon, presented themselves at the court of Lahore, and after some hesitation were engaged to complete the organization of the Sikh army, which Runjeet Singh had begun. They were fortunate in having excellent material to work with, and like skillful officers made good use of their means and opportunities. “They gave a moderate degree of precision and completeness to a system already introduced; but their labours were more conspicuous in the French mode of command, and treble ranks, and in squares salient with guns, than in the ardent courage, the alert obedience, and the long endurance of fatigue, which distinguished the Sikh horsemen sixty years ago, and which pre-eminently characterize the Sikh footmen of the present day among the other troops of India.” (Cunningham’s History of the Sikhs).
And of the Eedgah, we have the following account:
The principality of Mooltan has for a long time been ruled by a viceroy who pays tribute to Lahore. The late ruler, the Dewan Moolraj, was, when Dhuleep Singh was fixed on the throne in February 1846, called on to pay up the arrears of tribute then due by him. He did not hesitate, went to Lahore under British safeguard, and made an arrangement considered satisfactory to all parties. It is said, indeed, that he was tired of his office, and, that the whole state should be subject to one system of administration, he was induced to retire in favour of Khan Singh.
To transfer the viceroyalty in due form, it was arranged that this should be done at Mooltan by Mr Vans Agnew, of the Bengal Civil Service, and Lieutenant Anderson, of the Bombay European Fusiliers, who proceeded thither, as Commissioners, with an escort of 500 Sikh soldiers. They left Lahore on the 5th, and arrived at Mooltan on the 16th of April last year. They were well received on their arrival, and everything promised to terminate amicably. Moolraj showed the commissioners every attention, assigned Eedgah, a village and fort outside the city walls, as their residence, and forwarded the balance of the tribute for 1847 to Lahore. It is said that for all this his family —- especially his brothers —- were excessively angry, and pointed out how easy it would be for him to retain his viceroyalty with the present year’s tribute, were he to “sauf-ker”, or kill, the politicals. It is believed that Moolraj was not desirous of taking this villainous advice, for, besides wishing to retire, he had 70,000/- deposited in the treasury of Amritser, besides a large balance at his banker’s at Benares; all of which would, in the event of such treachery, be confiscated.
On the 19th of April, he went through the ceremony of handing the citadel over to Khan Singh, in the presence of Vans Agnew and Anderson. The latter mounted his horse at the gate, and rode forward with Moolraj; while Vans Agnew remained behind with Khan Singh to place guards at this, as he had previously done at the other entrances of the fortress. While in the act of getting on horseback a couple of Suwars rushed forward and cut him down with their swords, Khan Singh instantly dismounted, beat off the assailants, and succeeded in protecting his companion from further injury. He then caused his wounded friend to be placed on an elephant, and conveyed towards Eedgah.
During this time they had lost sight of Anderson, and naturally dreaded that the worst had befallen him. On getting outside the walls of the town, they found him lying by the road-side, so severely wounded that he was nearly dead from loss of blood. They saw no more of Moolraj, and lifting Anderson upon a litter, arrived in safety within the mud-fort. Here they determined to defend themselves to the last. Vans Agnew, exhausted as he was, addressed his Sikh escort, and entreated them to be firm; and they all promised fidelity. Could they have held out all would have been well, for a messenger was immediately despatched to Lieutenant Edwardes, who was at no great distance, with a small force, collecting the revenues for the Dewan. Scarcely had the wounded men, with the zealous assistance of Khan Singh, disposed of the small force for defence, when the guns from Mooltan opened upon the Eedgah. Happily, they were at too great a distance to do any injury.
The sequel of this painful affair is thus graphically related by a correspondent of the Bombay Times:-
“During the night, there was great commotion in the city, and it was reported to the wounded refugees that a large undisciplined rabble was approaching the Eedgah. Even then they were confident of being able to defend themselves; but at this crisis Khan Singh, the governor elect, rushed into the apartment where the two British officers were, and announced to them that the whole of his men —- the 500 Sikhs —- had gone over to the Mooltanees. ‘Now, Sahibs’, he said, ‘we have nothing for it but to die, but I will die with you.’ Agnew expostulated with him, saying, ‘Khan Singh, once already you have saved my life; now leave us to our fate and save your own.’ Anderson (who was already on the eve of expiring from his wounds) and Agnew then shook hands, and bade each other an eternal adieu.
“Anderson soon after died; but Agnew, though severely wounded, was still capable of defending himself, and soon came the time for doing so. The Mooltanees rushed into the buildings in numbers. They approached the small party. Agnew sprang up and sapped his pistol. It missed fire; he then threw himself upon the men most in advance, wounded several with his sword, and received a gun-shot wound which proved instantly fatal. Khan Singh was either cut down or wounded when poor Agnew fell, but he still survives.”
Some of the Sikh artillerymen had remained staunch to their murdered masters, but when they found there was nothing left them but flight, they made their escape from Eedgah, and reached Lahore in five days, having ridden at the rate of nearly forty miles a day. They, together with Mr Wilkinson, the apothecary to the mission —- who, luckily for himself, was left behind, and heard of the disaster in time to turn back before entering Mooltan —- were treated with every kindness by the people along the line of their return. Hence it was inferred that the revolt was not general or popular.
FOR so many days it has been Iraq all over. Any adverse development in the Near East and the Middle East creates instant ripples in this city. No doubt, it is oil that is at top of the worry list. But there is a great deal more behind this kind of unease. For one thing, Iraq is only on the other side of the Gulf and this gulf is only a narrow waterway.
This fever has dwarfed and undermined some big and pleasing developments. Sindh’s Governor and the newly-elected Chief Minister have had the joy of being warmly received and honoured by their Punjab counterparts. True to the protocol, Governor Ishratul Ibad was the first to be invited. Soon after, it was Chief Minister Ali Mohammed Mahar to tread the red carpet into the Mughal fort in Lahore.
Given due thought, these invitations from Lahore and visits to Lahore in response to those invitations should appear to be some really sweet gestures. Chief Minister Mahar has been pretty open about how he has felt over the courtesies and hospitality lavished upon him in Lahore. He has said that it is honour done to the province and the people of Sindh. He couldn’t be more correct.
What has been lost in the din over the developments about Iraq is the graceful response of the Sindh Chief Minister. Evidently, he has been moved by the warmth of reception and hospitality he received from Punjab. Doing what may be taken as some innocent loud thinking, Mr Mahar has said that (after Eid) he will be inviting his Punjab counterpart, Chaudhri Pervez Elahi, to Karachi.
The Lahore initiative has convinced the Sindh Chief Minister that direct personal contacts between, and among, the heads of provincial administrations can be extremely conducive to happy interaction. There would hardly be two opinions on this kind of thinking. Indeed, Mr Mahar has gone further. He is thinking of inviting the Chief Ministers of all the three other provinces. That would be a splendid thing to do.
Many an ordinary citizen in Karachi would be unable to resist the temptation to think of such ideas with a touch of romance. Why not? Let us hope the idea of inviting the Punjab Chief Minister over to Karachi will materialize sooner rather than later. But it would be adolescent euphoria if we made haste. Let Karachi do its homework in a sensible manner - with all the grace and none of the gaudy and the garish.
Doing things gracefully and keeping the showy stuff out is always a demanding assignment. But there is so much in Sindh and Karachi to show and not appear to be showy. Of course, we do not have a Mughal fort or the Badshahi Mosque. But we have a lot to show. The Quaid’s mausoleum now bears a presentable look. It could be the venue for a civic reception for any VVIP guest in Karachi.
Anyone of us can take a measure of pride in the way the Mohatta Palace has come up as a museum. We have seen some really impressive shows organized at this place. It may not be able to boast imperial majesty but it is graceful nonetheless in its slender lines and dainty curves. The Mohatta is now a show piece we need not be overly modest about.
Of course, there are a hundred ways in which to present an authentic and attractive picture and feel of the heart and soul of Karachi. It would be a good idea if the Chief Minister invited some of the notable figures in Karachi’s art and culture circles to assist him plan a programme that would amount to a feast for the eyes and the ears of the VVIPs from other provinces. Here one is reminded of that delicious Ghalib expression: Jannat-i-nigah and firdaus-i-gosh.
How about taking our honoured guests to the seashore? Not a bad idea. For people from Punjab and the NWFP, the seashore should have a very special fascination. Only recently we had a celebration by the seaside. This idea has tremendous potential. But so engrossed most of us in this city are with the nitty-gritty of daily life that few find time to think of the finer and nicer things of life. But of this lament, some other time.
We should strongly hope that Chief Minister Mahar will deliver on this promised occasion. Yes, we ought to be able to invite the Chief Minister of Punjab and the Chief Ministers of other provinces to Karachi as the guest not only of the government but also of the people of Sindh. To be correct, the latter should be mentioned first.
In Karachi we do not have much to write home about spring, or Basant, though Mr Mahar is not averse to thinking in terms of some festivity or celebration like they have in Punjab to celebrate the advent of the spring season. This would need some more thinking. All of us engage in such an exercise and come up with ideas. It is about time we realized that life in Karachi has become a monotone and dull.
The clergy should be seen to be a major factor in taking the little joys out of life. They would not let people make merry on the New Year. They come heavily on any mention of the features of the Valentine evening. An innocent smile is frowned upon by these killjoys, parading as self-appointed moral magistrates. If you do not quite understand this phenomenon of the unofficial moral policing in Karachi, listen to this from Bertrand Russell(1872-1970):
“Infliction (of pain) with a good conscience is a delight to the moralists. That is why they invented hell...
Rock music festivals are a rarity in Karachi. With local tastes tuned in more to derivative bubblegum pop and beat-heavy bhangra, rock doesn’t really have much room to manoeuvre here. But with changing times and the cultural glasnost\invasion of foreign frequencies brought on through cable, kids are becoming more aware of the variegated forms of musical expression out there.
With this in mind, it was great to see, or rather hear, the spirit of youth in full blown, half-baked adolescent glory at a recently held rock festival at the Karachi Arts Council.
Unfortunately, what struck out the most about the festival, rather than the music played by the underground acts, was a grisly incident involving charged-up young hoodlums. Right in the middle of a song by one of the bands, there broke out an act of random, senseless violence. The root of the argument was not immediately known. The usual causes were suspected — somebody probably looked at someone’s lady friend wrong, or some other issue involving the wounding of Neanderthal pride. One is least concerned about what caused the fight. Rather, what is more disturbing is the fact that random, destructive violence has become part of our everyday existence. We have become so brawls, bedlam and all hell breaking loose that we have become automatons.
Some of us, in the lust for blood, take a great interest in these momentary lapses of sanity, as was evident by the sudden rush of spectators that made a bee-line for the scene of the fight as if to witness two primates enact a savage ritual. The more jaded and oblivious sat through the stupidity or took a coffee break before the next band came out.
Fights at concerts are nothing new, and indeed are not unique to Pakistan. Even out in the wild, wild West, brawls are a common occurrence at rock shows where adrenaline, liquor and loud music form a molotov cocktail of male bravado almost tearing itself apart to surface and show the world its ferocity. Perhaps it’s a sign of the times when even a simple rock show is not free form violent showmanship. We have gone back to a darker age; one in which feisty braves sought to outdo each other in displays of chest thumping to secure the coveted warrior’s mantle. It’s either that, or deep down, most of us are still animals at heart. One is just glad that the fracas at the local rock festival ran out of gas before the lathis of the more than willing thanedars could start raining down on the young heads.
The Notebook, from time to time, gets mail from its readers. Students and young people in general seem to be particularly responsive. An MBA student from the Karachi University, and who wishes to remain anonymous, sent this in on Saturday:
“It’s just have been a month since I joined KU for an MBA. Recently, this happened. It was a normal day when we were waiting for our teacher to come. All of a sudden came two boys who literally kicked us out of our class only because they wanted us to watch the match which was being organized by their party. The match was being played in the university and for the whole day we had no class. I was so shocked to see that they had no qualms coming to a class and forcing the students, all waiting for the teacher, to go and watch a match. I wonder for how long these things will continue.”
These days, it seems, the city has been invaded by salespeople going door-to-door selling various products. These are mostly girls who ring your doorbell, usually, at the oddest time possible. But one has to admire their persistence and salesmanship. They give you promises of lucrative prizes and talk you into buying their product.
A few days back when a female colleague answered her doorbell she found a couple of salesgirls selling detergent powder. They told her that she could even win a plot if she bought the product. Just to get rid of them the colleague bought two packs. A fortnight later the members of the same company came back congratulating her and informing her that she had won two plots in Rawalpindi — one on each pack bought.
She was asked to pay a few thousand rupees per plot within two days and to deposit a larger amount in the next ten days as development charges. The total they were asking came to over Rs30,000. The colleague was doubtful and didn’t pay anything. How do they expect someone to pay thousands of rupees in such a short time? She also asked her husband to first try and check whether the claims the saleswomen had made were true.
They told him, probably over the phone, that they would show the documents and layout of the land if someone visited their office. But what’s the guarantee that the documents aren’t fake? They even said that they would give one-way train fare if someone wanted to go and check the site. But who is going to check that the land is not already allotted to someone else? Checking papers with the official land development agencies can be a very long and tedious process. It all seems extremely mysterious and people are advised to check carefully.
A contributor to the Notebook, though one might not agree necessarily with what she will say, sent this in:
“Not exactly known for it’s cultural or theatrical activities, Karachi is usually outdone by Lahore in matters of creativity. The last few months have therefore been a small miracle of sorts for the entertainment-starved population of this city. From a world class movie festival to Kathak performances and a weekly comedy improv show, Karachiites are living it all up.
“The Second KaraFilm Festival was held late December over a period of seven days smack in the centre of the city. Everything from documentaries and shorts to feature films was screened and entries came from Pakistan, India, Sri Lanka, Bangladesh, America, Canada, Britain, New Zealand, Germany, Russia, Japan and France. Superbly organized and incredibly light on the pocket, the festival sailed smoothly save one hitch where the much acclaimed Mystic Masseur was cancelled minutes before its screening. Turns out the customs people refused to release the film. (It is available at Rainbow Centre for anyone interested in watching this Merchant-Ivory rendition of V.S. Naipaul’s tale.)
“Then came news that a bunch of young 20-ish performers had gotten together and formed their own comedy improv group (a la Whose Line is it Anyway?). They call themselves Blackfish and a show is held every Sunday at this place called The Joint, in one of the lanes off Zamzama.
“Also on the cards for later this month is a kathak performance by Sheema Kirmani tracing the evolution of the dance form. And then of course there were the Valentine’s Day festivities, Basant (which is celebrated albeit on a much smaller scale) and the usual charity balls and so on.”
On Eid day this newspaper carried a photograph of the director of the Lyari Expressway Resettlement project holding a kutchery. The official, an accompanying report said, was meeting families displaced by the construction of the controversial Lyari Expressway.
Much has been written on this and that is anyway not the point here. What is interesting, though, is the mechanics of power and authority that can be seen by analyzing the photograph.
The government official and his staff, including a couple of reporters (wonder why they chose to sit next to the government official), are sitting on what seem to be comfortable sofas. They have a table in front of them where several bottles of mineral water are placed. Several dozen of the affected people had gathered around the government official (most were standing) who was leaning back in his chair and talking to them.
The body language seemed to suggest that the ordinary citizens at this kutchery clearly saw themselves in a subordinate position vis-a-vis the government official. We hear all the time, thanks to their PROs, of ministers and senior officials holding such kutcheries but one wonders if anything other than publicity for the official concerned is achieved by such meetings. — By Karachian
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