| July 20, 2003 | Sunday | Jumadi-ul-Awwal 19, 1424 |
Storm and rain expose all
Saved from chaos
On a plain reading of its text, the presidential ordinance of July 10 does little more than streamline the law of contempt to facilitate its effective enforcement.
According to its preamble, the ordinance is meant further to ‘explain the contempt of court articles of the Constitution and ensure sanctity of the judiciary’. Neither its preamble nor its provisions, however, clarify, let alone justify, resort to executive legislation. No action under the ordinance has been taken so far and it is not known what circumstances prompted the government or the president to take immediate action under Article 89 of the Constitution. It will have to be submitted to parliament for enactment within four months.
The timing and certain provisions of the ordinance do lend credence to the general belief that the measure is intended to meet a contingency that might possibly be created by an intensified campaign launched by lawyers. It will also come in handy if the political opponents of the existing set-up target the judiciary for its It will also come in handy if the political opponents of the existing set-up target the judiciary for its pronouncements on the Legal Framework Order or in cases of disqualification of the madressah-qualified ‘graduates’.
The Pakistan Bar Council has already published a ‘white paper’, which does not contain much that was not known before. But a consolidated reproduction of the various PBC resolutions against the LFO provision relating to the enhancement of the retirement age of superior court judges and other controversial matters makes a greater impact. Besides, the preface and introductory remarks single out and scathingly criticize certain judges. More has been ‘promised’ by some Bar leaders at a lawyers’ convention scheduled to be held in Quetta on July 26 and the new ordinance is probably intended to warn the lawyers that enough is enough. It seems to be more preventive and pre-emptive than prospective or retrospective, though past conduct might also figure once a court decides to take cognizance.
Not surprisingly, it is in the realm of personalized criticism of judges that the new law marks a departure from the old. Such criticism could have been punished under the broad provisions of the old law, but the July 10 ordinance makes a special mention of the offence as part of ‘judicial contempt’. According to Section 2 (definitions clause) of the ordinance, judicial contempt means the scandalization of a court and includes personalized criticism of a judge while holding office. And, according to clause (f) of the section, ‘personalized criticism’ means criticism of a judge or a judgment in which improper motives are imputed. In their criticism of certain recent court orders, the Bar leaders have frequently attributed motives and insinuated ‘deals’ between the top judicial and executive functionaries .
To be fair to the framers of the new law, the provision is not entirely novel. It was first incorporated in the contempt regime as an independent section by the Contempt of Court Ordinance of October 1998. The 1998 ordinance was primarily based on the amendments made in the 1976 law by the National Assembly in November 1997 when (the then) prime minister Nawaz Sharif was in the thick of a tussle with (the then) chief justice Sajjad Ali Shah and had been charged with contempt.
The amendment, inter alia, provided for an intra-court appeal against the issuance of a show cause notice or an original order, including an interim order, passed by a bench of the Supreme Court in any case, ‘including a pending case’, to a larger bench consisting of all the remaining available judges of the court. The executive-judiciary row ended with the CJ’s ouster and the amendment never saw its fruition in the Senate. The 1998 ordinance was also allowed to expire and the 1976 Contempt of Court Act stood revived in its original form.
The July 10 ordinance, which repeals and replaces the 1976 law, dips into both the inchoate 1997 amendment and the lapsed 1998 ordinance.It classifies contempt into three categories—-civil, criminal and judicial. It also provides for an intra-court appeal against the order (not a show cause notice) made by a judge or bench of the apex court by a larger bench of its judges. More noticeably but very much like the defunct ordinance, it omits the 10 ‘defences’ or ‘exceptions’ available to an alleged contemner.
The most valid defence common to all species of contempt—-’fair comments about the general working of courts made in good faith and in the public interest and in temperate language’—-has been enacted as an independent section but evidently restricted in its scope. Embodied in Section 9 of the ordinance, it now reads: “The (sic) fair and healthy comments on a judgment involving (a)question of public importance in a case which has finally been decided and is no longer pending shall not constitute contempt; provided that it is phrased in temperate language and the integrity and impartiality of a judge is not impugned”.
Similarly, truth has been declared a valid defence subject to other provisions of the ordinance. ‘Fair reporting’ has been protected by Section 8 and ‘innocent publication’ by Section 15. Section 18 says that ‘no person shall be found guilty of contempt of court, or punished accordingly, unless the court is satisfied that the contempt is one which is substantially detrimental to the administration of justice or scandalizes the court or otherwise tends to bring the court or judge of the court into hatred or ridicule’.
The ordinance retains six months of simple imprisonment as the maximum corporeal punishment but enhances the maximum amount of fine from Rs 5,000 to Rs 100,000. Like the 1998 ordinance, it empowers the federal and provincial governments to move contempt applications through their law officers in cases of ‘criminal contempt’. Corporate liability for the offence has been extended to its directors or staff directly or indirectly responsible. An apology may now be submitted at any stage and the court may discharge an accused or remit his sentence if it is satisfied about its bona fides. The defence that an accused genuinely believes that he has not committed contempt shall not detract from the bona fides of his unqualified or unconditional apology.
THERE has been a severe storm and more rain in Karachi, during the week, but as one remains focused on the weather, and one contemplates about the Sindh capital, let me make a reference to the rain that “lashed Lahore and other cities” on Thursday.
Said one report about it with the headline that makes one ask in anxiety “are our urban centres being planned/prepared for various emergencies, and the uncertainties of weather”. Read this first paragraph: “The first monsoon rain that hit the provincial metropolis on Thursday exposed the tall claims of the city district government (Lahore) regarding the prompt disposal of rainy water.” Substitute the Lahore reference and assume it is Karachi, and it will be accurate, or almost. Some pessimists will contend that Karachi fares much poorer and the optimists will argue that Karachi is doing much better than ever before.
The objective of the above reference is not to compare the two cities, the two biggest in the country. But it enables one to raise the question of whether our urban centres are being correctly planned for the future, taking into account the fact that the migration to the cities continues rapidly despite all the efforts that are being made to slow down the pace and confine the rural folks to our rural world.
Perhaps relevant is the fact that the Human Development Report (HDR) 2003 has been released by the United Nations Development Programme (UNDP) and it has been noted that there is a decline in Human Development Index (HDI) in 21 countries, including Pakistan.
A Dawn report said that the HDI was a summary measure of three dimensions of human development: living a long and healthy life; being educated; and having a decent standard of living. This reference to a decent standard of living makes one pontificate on that vast majority of people in cities like Karachi who suffer when it rains. Rains, welcome, even then?
There is no argument at all about the point that Karachi needs healthy rain, and plenty of rain at that. Look at the fact that the water storage level in the Hub Dam has risen and it makes the citizens comfortable at the thought that at least there is water there. The worry this time has come from the fact that there has been a major water line burst in the 72 inch diameter main water supply pipeline near Dhabeji. This has caused a major shortfall in the city, affecting supply to almost four huge towns of the city. Water supply to Karachi is likely to be normalized by Sunday the earliest.
This water line burst is partly reflective of the kind and quality of infrastructure that we have, and of which cynical sceptical public attitudes are often manifest. This particular pipeline was laid in 1957 and during the last 17 years it has been damaged 30 times — it is reported. Try and imagine how much the city has grown in the last 17 years, and how the rich have become richer, and how the posh areas of the city have prospered. But neither the rich citizen nor the decision-maker and the planner been able to do anything about subjects like giving to Karachi the infrastructure that it needs, and desperately so now.
This makes it naturally pertinent to mention the storm and the rain that hit Karachi on the 16th (Wednesday). On that day, a 13-storey building on Sharea Faisal was evacuated after it developed cracks following the windstorm and rain. This is a new building one may add. If a building in old Karachi or some such place had developed these cracks it would have been somewhat understandable. But the fact that such a problem has surfaced in the newly developed parts of Karachi amply mirrors the quality of the work that is being done here, comment citizens who are forever wary of the construction work and material that are being put into modern buildings.
In this particular case, the report says: “Officials of the fire department told Dawn that the multi-storeyed ‘The Plaza’, situated on the main Sharea Faisal in PECHS Block 6, developed cracks in its 10th, 11th and 12th floors. The cracks were visible from the road, and the building leaned to aside also, the officials said.” There were other details also, and one hopes that a comprehensive picture will emerge in the days ahead. But thought naturally goes out to the people who work in that building. Or even elsewhere, in buildings that are poorly built, which surely are there.
In passing one may mention the fact that there has been uprooting of dozens of trees and electric poles (KESC listening, I hope) and hoardings have crashed at several places, and kutcha houses, especially those of tin-sheets and asbestos been hit on a disturbing scale. Equally worrying is the fact that roads have also been affected on a vast scale, here too reflecting on the nature and extent of quality control, by all those officials and department that carry out road building.
Of course in all this rain, there have been rain-related deaths (16 so far), and bridges have adversely been affected, and the homeless have been given another round of sorrow and misery, the Korangi Road has been under water once again, the dust storm played havoc with the power network, thousands of phones were rendered inoperative, and public transport became still more of a headache and frustration for those who depend upon it (that is to say the majority of the people).
One is not trying to paint a grim picture of paralysis vis-a-vis life in the city. One English daily, however, carried the after-effect of rain as a banner story and declared that life in the city had come to a stop.
If this is what happens in this developed part of the city one can imagine what must have happened in the suburbs, like Orangi, Korangi, New Karachi and so on. And in all this, the city government and Sindh government have their differences of political opinion on matters that relate to the functioning of the city’s administration. There is a perceptible unpleasantness to say the least in the relationship, and one hopes that it does not hurt the community. There is enough hurt that we carry as a people. And the rain does not wash it away.
THE monthly readings session of the Lahore Arts Forum (LEAF) was this time saved from utter chaos at the last moment. The time given was 6pm and everyone knows that Muzaffar Ghaffar, who runs the show, is meticulously punctual. Yet when I entered Hall II of the Alhamra Cultural Complex at five past six, Shahzad Ahmad, one of the invitees of the evening was already there. But there was no trace of the other three shown on the programme. Sadaf Raza, the poet in English, was expected from Islamabad, but was missing. She had even written to me quite some days earlier that she would only be making the journey to Lahore for participating in the programme arranged by LEAF.
The other name on the programme of the evening was that of Salman Siddique. He was also conspicuous by his absence. And the one who was to handle the arts capsule, my friend and famous photographer, Shahid Zaidi, sent a chit at the last moment regretting his inability to come as he was feeling ‘under the clouds’.
So, at that moment, Muzaffar Ghaffar was in a quandary. But with the sharp eye that he has, he spotted a grey haired person with long tresses sitting there. He looked every inch a poet and Muzaffar Ghaffar promptly invited him to the rostrum. He was up to the occasion, recited some of his verses, and consumed quite some time. In the meantime, I saw Islam Shah, the poet and former programmes manager of Radio Pakistan, sitting in one of the back rows. Why couldn’t he handle the arts capsule? I thought. He could very well talk about radio programmes and broadcasting. As such I sneaked a chit to Muzaffar Ghaffar and he forthwith asked Islam Shah to come over and wield the mike. And Islam Shah did that with great dexterity. In an interesting talk, he spoke of the golden days of Radio Pakistan when all kinds of writers, poets and intellectuals gathered in the canteen adjacent to the studios and engaged in illuminating talk. But Islam Shah brought out a sore point. He said only three per cent of the budget allocated for a programme went to those participating in it while the rest was spent on miscellaneous and non-productive expenses.
While all this was going on, Sadaf Raza, together with her husband, showed up from Islamabad. Soon after, Salman Siddique was also seen entering the hall and proudly going to occupy a seat in the front row. I don’t know why people arriving late at a function do not feel ashamed of themselves. On the contrary, they seem to think that their late arrival adds to their eminence.
Sadaf entertained the fairly large gathering with readings from her maiden collection of verse, Like A Sleepwalker. She also gave a detailed background of every poem that she read. Here is a piece from her poem, Repentance:
If you can capture the last moment
Before eternity _____
If you can only see the miseries of a lifetime
Retold and repeated in the last second
Before oblivion
Or the futility of existence
Laid bare ____
And then:
Or if you can take away this damp feeling
Of a feeble heart drenched in tears
But only if you can
Hold my hand to ease the pain of a mediocre life
All these are feelings of pessimism and I could not refrain from telling her what I thought about it. When I met her after she had returned to her seat, I told her that she was too young to nurture such feelings of gloom or have any apprehensions of mediocrity. She is passing through the age which demands happiness from her. She is a human rights activist. But why be despondent about her own person?
Sadaf is now working on her first novel, Her Different Deaths. Not a very happy title, anyway. Let us see what she comes up with.
Salman Siddique who teaches at a local college is a poet who has also written a novel and some short stories. That evening he read out some of his poems in blank verse which were boring in the extreme. In the end came Shahzad Ahmad, a poet par excellence. Whatever he offered that evening was fully appreciated.
THE second-Monday-of the month meeting of Adab Serai was held as per programme. Most of the regulars were there at the residence of Shahnaz Muzammil, the chairperson of the literary organization. Abdul Ali Shaukat had come there that evening after a long time but the first timer that evening was Saeed Ahmad Bodla who proved more of an entertainer than a poet. His humorous verses were well received. Some serious, and commendable, verses came from Aijaz Feroz, Nargis Sheikh and Shahnaz Muzammil. Said Aijaz Feroz:
Loag jab beyzamir ho jaen
Saneha, saneha nahin rehta
Daur voh khaufnak hota heh
Jis mein ik zabita nahin rehta
Nargis Sheikh has recently lost her brother who accompanied her to every literary moot. She came up with a pathetic verse:
Yun to is bazm mein har ik sey shanasaiee heh
Phir bhi ehsaas yeh hota heh keh tanhaiee heh
It was at the same session that I saw the Urdu translation of the long poem recently written by Benazir Bhutto and bowed my head in tribute to Abdul Ali Shaukat for having done a wonderful job. Benazir’s poem opens with the words:
When the world was still to be born
When Adam was still to receive his form
Then my relationship began ......
And Abdul Ali Shaukat puts it in the wondrous words:
Aalim-i-mumkinat se pehley
Zer-i-tajseem tha abhi Aadam
Mera apna wajood bhi tha wahin
and so on.
It is indeed a great job done by Shaukat. — ASHFAQUE NAQVI