Vice-Admiral Haji Muhammad Siddiqi Choudri, who passed away on Friday, had the distinction of being not only the first Pakistani to command the Pakistan Navy, but also in fact the first Indian to be commissioned (in 1932) into the executive branch of the Royal Indian Navy (RIN). As far as one can recall, before him only one other Indian (a Parsi officer) had the honour of being granted a commission (engineering branch) in the Naval service, the officer cadre of the executive branch of the RIN until then reserved for British officers or personnel seconded from the Royal Navy for service in India.
Choudri Sahib, as the younger naval officers generally called him, had most of his early training in England and specialized in the gunnery branch. He held various appointments both at sea and with land-based naval formations before and after the Second World War. At the Japanese surrender ceremony in Japan at the end of the war he was given command of the two-ship formation that represented the Royal Indian Navy. At the time of partition, Choudri Sahib happened to be the senior-most Indian officer and was involved in the division of the RIN's assets between India and Pakistan.
After independence, his early years with the Pakistan Navy were spent in service abroad or at sea and it was only in the 50s that he was assigned command of the Royal Pakistan Navy. The navy at the time was extremely short of ships and training facilities and Admiral Choudri had to start building the country's navy from scratch.
It was by no means an easy task, not only because he did not receive the most willing cooperation from the British officers who were still serving in the Pakistan Navy in a fairly large number. A bigger hurdle was the paucity of funds as the army was given the major share of money and an exceptionally large share went into the building and expansion of the young air force.
It is unbelievable how slow the authorities at the top were in comprehending the value of the navy to a country which had a preponderant coastline and also had to cope with the unusual geo-political situation of its two halves being divided by more than a thousand miles and the only link between the two halves being the sea.
Generals Iskander Mirza and Ayub Khan who had the dominant voice in working out a policy for the country's defence and in the allocation of resource were obsessed with the odd concept of the defence of the eastern wing lying with the west. The blatant disadvantage consequently suffered by East Pakistan became too obvious during the 1965 war when East Pakistan was left to fend for itself.
Admiral Choudri was only too well aware of the difficulty of defending the eastern wing in the event of hostilities between India and Pakistan and from the outset laid great stress on the critical importance of providing East Pakistan with virtually a self-supporting naval setup by building a modern naval base in Chittagong.
But he received little support from his colleagues in the army whenever the matter was taken up at the higher level of the administrative echelons. As a result, Admiral Choudri was unable to see his plans becoming a reality on the ground, leaving the people of East Pakistan with a perpetual feeling of being left out in the cold where the nation's defence was concerned.
Not unexpectedly, the demand for an adequate naval base for East Pakistan featured in all of the negotiations for their political rights by the leaders of the eastern wing.
Before the showdown in 1970-71 the shifting of the naval headquarters to East Pakistan prominently featured in Shaikh Mujib's 'six points' but by then it was obviously too late to do anything about it.
Admiral Choudri's differences with the people who mattered in drawing up the future defence policy of Pakistan came to a critical point with Gen Ayub Khan's rise to power; he had scant regard for the admiral's capabilities or for his insistence on the strengthening of East Pakistan's capacity for its own defence. Their acute differences on policy matters and clash of personalities led to Admiral Choudri offering to relinquish the command of the navy, an offer which Ayub Khan received with an obvious sense of relief.
However, even after his departure from the navy, Admiral Choudri continued to promote the cause of making the people aware of the critical importance of Pakistan's maritime defence. He set up the Pakistan institute of maritime research and strategy in Karachi and held many seminars to promote its objectives. Indeed, my last meeting with him was at a presentation that he had sponsored on the question of confidence-building measures between the navies of Pakistan and India for defusing tensions between the two countries in the interest of a peaceful maritime environment in the region.
The main feature of the seminar was an excellent presentation by retired Rear Admiral Hasan Ansari on the basis of research he had conducted jointly with a retired Indian naval officer, Rear Admiral Vohra, with regard to the specific irritants in the way of resolving disputes in the area of maritime defence. At least one of the outstanding bilateral issues identified in the research, the nagging dispute over Sir Creek, is slated for resolution by the governments of the two countries when their top-level negotiations take place.
Despite his age (92) and extremely poor health, Admiral Choudri sat through most of the discussion. Towards the end when he looked alarmingly unwell, his son, Rishad, pushed his wheelchair out of the hall - but quietly, without interfering with the proceedings. Choudri Sahib was a crusader for harmony and the importance of moral values to international peace up to the end.
Some shocking deaths deepen sorrow
By Nusrat Nasarullah
Sometime in the 70's, in this "beloved" city, there was, one recalls in the midst of all this sorrow and shame of today, a little girl Tarranum Aziz of the Federal B Area, who was kidnapped and murdered. Yes, that is all one remembers now, and while newspapers carried the story, there was anger and resentment in the city.
There was a deep disappointment, as to how could anyone kidnap and kill a little girl aged four or five. That is how little she was. Her photographs, that newspapers carried, symbolised her obvious innocence. This city and society, both have come a long way since then. Has it been a journey into still deeper sorrow.
Truly, much to mourn and deeply this week, as one ruminates into the shocking murder of Sassi, 5 and Hajra 8, two sisters, the details of which are so well-known by now, and in which five policemen have been "booked." Just pause at the age of the two girls; five and eight. Think of the barbarity and insanity that appear to have taken over. Think of the life-long sufferings of the families concerned, and their subsequent emptiness. How does a family live with this sort of a tragedy? How does the society explain this crime; monstrous crime without the slightest doubt.
I will return to this sadness of the murder of the two little girls, but let me mention another news report, with which in fact the week began. A noted professor had reportedly attempted suicide by shooting himself, and eventually after a short stay in the hospital he breathed his last. But from the facts that were reported, there was much to contemplate. And once again in tears. Is this a land of sorrow? asked a colleague, who's love of poetry is often a source of comfort and consolation, when life's troubles torment.
Reading the details of this well-known doctor, who appeared to be residing alone in Defence, with his family abroad, brought back memories of the "tragic death of an old professor and his wife in their house in Malir, Karachi," in December 2003, not too long ago. In that case, the story was that the death occurred due to "starvation," presumably caused by long delays in the release of pension and other dues from the Sindh education department.
(Let us not overlook or underplay the agony and the harassment that can be caused by delayed government pensions, another aspect of our lives). That this retired professor, residing in Malir, had taught hundreds and hundreds of students, many of whom must have done well in life - is a passing painful thought.
A colleague, who was very disturbed by the "suicide" that the doctor committed in the city, talked about the need for returning to the joint family system. He was vehemently critical of the way Pakistan's urban society had "aped" the West, by opting for smaller families, and nuclear families at that. Without the support structure of the developed societies, we have taken on the problems of the Western family structure, and given up the best of the family togetherness that we have held onto for generations. In a way, we had the worst of both the worlds, he contended, adjusting his newly-acquired spectacles!
But let us return to the "ruthless" murder of the two little girls, which has once again exposed, not only the way we live, but also the way in which we are governed. It makes citizens wonder at the kind of police we have, and that for all the effort that has been made (?) and all the campaigns that have come and gone, the reality of the police force, in particular, and that of officialdom in general, is far from what the demands of decency dictate.
While one hopes that justice will be soon done, and the guilty will be given, without delay, the punishment that is their due, let us note that the people, countrywide, have reacted angrily and intensely. There has been bitter street protest, and in private conversations there has been the usual and not so cynical expression of alarm at the way in which our values are eroding, and how those, whose job it is to protect human life, to safeguard our interest, to ensure that we live within the domains of security, are becoming the cause of peril, death. Shame really.
Widespread indeed is the condemnation of the brutal murders, wherein it has been termed as a "failure of the authorities to protect the people's lives," according to a report on Friday in this daily. Political leaders attended the soyem of the girls, and various leaders, including Benazir Bhutto, Altaf Hussain, and others expressed their candid condemnation of the killings and condoled with the parents and the families, to share their grief.
It is necessary to mention the news report that Dawn carried on Feb 26, in which it was said that "CM seeks judicial probe into the girls' killing, and that "confusion, fear grip police department." This story, as one read, was disturbing, though there was nothing that was intrinsically new, said one resident of this city. He said that this was the way in which the police had been functioning for decades, and this was what required to be changed. But when would that happen, we wondered as we conversed, treading into deeper sadder terrain.
One does not need to comment on or reproduce the details of how the police is reportedly working, except one paragraph, which reads like this "Official sources said that the police had been politicised and demoralised by the steps being taken by the police higher ups." Politics, demoralisation?
The autopsy report has confirmed that the Gadap girls were murdered. One died due to a blow on her head, and the other was shot to death. Even as I write, I am horrified, even terrified, and it makes one wonder how safe are even children in this society.
The deal that children, especially those of the poorer sections of the society, receive at the hands of adults is scary, nightmarish, and reflect well on the nature of this society. For all the Jashne Baharan that we have had, our reality is sordid, bloody. For all the Valentine's day and the Basant that we have celebrated, the truth about how suffering is getting intensified is something that needs to be thought out.
Almost every day there are stories of men or women who commit suicide. Take the two who committed suicide as reported on Feb 26. A 40-year-old man in Nazimabad (Paposhnagar) hanged himself to death from a ceiling fan at his home. He was unemployed. Now that is a vast subject itself. An unemployed man. Oceanic hell.
The other person was an 18-year-old girl, also hanged herself from a ceiling fan in Orangi, reportedly in a fit of "depression." Police concerned gave no reason for the suicide. That's it. A handicap with such brevity of reporting is that the human details of a death under such circumstances are never explored, and made known.
And its here that one is reminded of what Joseph Stalin said: "A single death is a tragedy, a million death is a statistic." This quote is given in a detailed study on "trend of suicide in Pakistan," which focuses Karachi in particular, with an attempt to create an awareness on a worrying and agonising trend. Somehow it did not get the attention that it deserved, remarked this resident of Gulistane Jauhar, Tariq Zuberi.
It is relevant to quote from this detailed research paper, which said: "In Karachi, the major reason for a suicide is the feeling of the insanity of living. This feeling is connected with the situation of a certain society, particularly with the economic instability, ideological mess, unemployment, lack of infrastructure, poverty, eroded personal relations, and over-estimation of public moral norms. Psychologists call this phenomenon "anonymity in a crowd." In other words, it is a situation where a person feels terribly lonely, having a lot of friends, relatives and colleagues."
So what has one focused upon today. Murder of little girls, after one of them was perhaps assaulted, suicide, and the reported way in which the custodians of the law have functioned in the Gadap case. This land was tormented by a sorrow it could do without. A sorrow born of "injustice."