| 07 November 2004 | Sunday | 23 Ramazan 1425 |
Dina Nath Brahmin ... the survivor
From what the news reports are indicating so far, the tension in the city colleges is very disturbing, and the Rangers personnel are likely to have an enlarged portfolio of work in the days ahead.
One does not make this observation in anger, as there is no point in getting angry at the way stories of unrest and clashes in some colleges and universities have reminded us of the quality of higher education in this society.
Instead, it is a feeling of engulfing sadness and regret that comes to trouble the mind, and that too in the midst of Ramazan. One would have imagined that students and teachers, and all those who make the education world here, and in the country, would collectively endeavour to ensure that academic pursuits and ideals remain unaffected at this point in time.
One does not isolate the college clashes and the suspension of classes from whatever is happening in the society. It is a part of, or an extension of the larger picture of a society battling with challenges and conflicts, on just about all fronts. In fact, a citizen asked me in despair, as he contemplated the troubled state of not just Karachi's colleges and the Federal Urdu University, but also "clashes" between different student groups and parties at the Punjab University, that where in the society is there no tension and trouble? Somewhat colloquial but also somewhat apt, I dare say?
It is said, that there is insecurity being felt by the teachers and the students at the Punjab University Campus, in particular by the female students, who reside in the varsity's hostel. No anger really, as there is plenty of it already. It is time for sadness. It is once again time to wonder about the quality of the education being provided at the higher level, and whether the infrastructure is appropriate and relevant, despite all the effort being made, resources being allocated, and policy shifts being considered.
One can imagine the apprehensions of the parents whose sons and daughters go to such violence-stricken colleges and universities daily, as students or teachers, or reside in hostels. In saying this I am able to understand a Dawn story of Oct 30, which said: "Adamjee teachers boycott classes". But at the same time it is something to lament over as well.
Adamjee College, if one recalls, and goes down the memory lane, was considered as one of the most prestigious colleges in the town, at least till early 60s, acknowledged for its high academic standards. It was a private college, then got nationalized. That's the way it is now, and despite everything its reputation has survived.
At this point, I am reminded of the mid 60s, when I was a student at the St Patrick's College, which was an intermediate college at that time. It was a peaceful period, stable all the way. Was that somewhat unreal? One wonders know.
For ever since the late 60s, the educational institutions here have been centres of political activity, with student wings of political parties playing leading roles. And today, even though political activity is banned and student unions do not exist, in reality political parties are evidently very much integral to college and university life. That is the socio-political change that has come about in the Pakistani society.
A word about the St Patrick's College is relevant here. It is one of the two institutions that are scheduled to be privatized or handed over to their original owners. The other is the St Joseph's College for women, Karachi. And there is a difference of opinion on this issue, with the City government opposing the decision of the Sindh Cabinet to return the colleges to the private sector and the teachers concerned feeling restless and agitated.
The Adamjee Science College teachers have "demanded a permanent deployment of the Rangers at the college, claiming that the outsiders were playing havoc with the academic life at the institution." While the teaching process remained suspended on last Saturday after the teachers boycotted the classes to register their protest against the continuing interference by outsiders allegedly belonging to a students' organization for the last two weeks. There is a mention of 'bhatta' also. Amazing.
It is very appropriate to recall here that the Rangers have been deployed at the recently-upgraded Federal Urdu University in Gulshan-i-Iqbal, and the city government's education department has reportedly already moved the authorities for similar deployments at the Government Commerce College, National College, Saify College, Islamia College and the Adamjee College.
While a thought goes out to the extent to which this society seeks law-enforcing agencies like the Rangers to ensure normal life, there is an element of nostalgia that streams in. That there was a time when educational institutions kept even the police out of their campuses.
I can recall Karachi University campus for this, and all that was regarded as enough was that the campus proctors went about their routine. It was a matter of deep shame if the police had to be called in, and students and teachers both wanted the law-enforcing agencies to be kept out. Now these are the students and the teachers, together, who believe that the Rangers and guards are a must to ensure that classroom teaching can go on without fear. Keep in mind that the society wants protection not just for its religious processions but also for its places of worship. That is the world we have created for ourselves. More on this later.
One recalls that even the KU had no Rangers "once upon a time". That is how one feels about the campus, which today works under the protective shadows of the law-enforcing agencies, who were presumably and hopefully called in to do some specific job within stipulated time. Of course, there were those of us who perceived the move as a permanent arrangement. Look at the times we are in now.
There is news of unrest from the campuses in Hyderabad, and Gujranwala and the headlines alone from the disturbed colleges of Karachi or the Punjab University make one wonder whether there is a "hidden hand" behind the clashes or whether it is an outcome of the long-standing neglect and deprivation that our colleges and universities had been suffering from. The school sector also ails, is another tale.
As if the Sindh Government does not have enough on its plate vis-a-vis law and order, there is news that it has constituted a high-level committee to maintain peace in the educational institutions in the province.
The meeting that took this decision reviewed the "deteriorating law and order condition in the colleges, in view of the recent clashes between various student groups." (Let me add here that even a casual reading of the names of the students groups reflects the seriousness of the situation). The Sindh Home Minister has said that "for a complete and durable peace in educational institutions it is necessary to cleans them of weapons".
It is here that parents shiver when they imagine that their sons and daughters go to such institutions where students have weapons, and where "outsiders" come in to disturb the peace, and hand out threats.
Dina Nath Brahmin ... the survivor
The first time I heard his name was as a college student having tea in a Bhati Gate eatery. The aged owner scolded a stingy customer calling him "Dina Nath Brahmin". That name sounded interesting, for it remained "embedded" in my sub-conscious memory for a good 35 years that is till last week when I happened to be passing by Wazir Khan's mosque.
Dwellers of the old walled city connect this name to the two excellent 'havelis' that stand just round the corner from the Wazir Khan's Mosque, and also to the Samadhi of Dina Nath on the Ravi. Of the two havelis, one is known as 'Haveli Dina Nath', the second is known as 'Haveli Dina Nath Raja Kalanaur'. The first was built during the reign of Maharaja Ranjit Singh. The second during British rule, but before the 1857 War of Independence.
He is important in history because he was one of three persons - a Muslim, a Sikh and a Hindu -- who formed a Council of Regency to administer the affairs of the Lahore Darbar in December 1846, before the East India Company took over completely in 1849. The other two being Fakiruddin and Teja Singh. Dewan Dina Nath was the president of the council.
But who was this Dina Nath whose name was still being used in the streets of old Lahore 147 years after he died? A bit of research into the 50-year time period (1807 to 1857) did bring forth interesting facts about this remarkable man who ruled Lahore directly for three years, and, indirectly, for almost a decade. For three decades he silently, yet very effectively, influenced the manner in which Lahore's various rulers, unpredictable as they were, went about their business. What is remarkable about this man was that he made virtually no enemies.
Dewan Dina Nath was a Kashmiri Pandit who migrated to Lahore in 1815. Known as an outstanding civil administrator and counselor of considerable influence at the Sikh court, he was the son of a Kashmiri Pandit, Bakht Mal, who had migrated to Delhi during the oppressive rule of the Afghan governors of the Kashmir valley. He was also closely related to the military accounts and keeper of the Privy Seal at Lahore, Diwan Ganga Ram (not to be confused with Sir Ganga Ram, who came much later), and it was because of him that Dina Nath came to Lahore.
At the instance of Diwan Ganga Ram, Maharaja Ranjit Singh invited Dina Nath to Lahore and offered him the post of "mutasadi", or writer, in the department of military accounts. In 1826, when Diwan Ganga Ram died, Dina Nath succeeded him as the head of military accounts department and keeper of the Privy Seal. In 1834, when Diwan Bhavani Das passed away, the Maharaja made him the head of the civil and finance office and conferred upon him, in 1838, the honorary title of Diwan.
By his ability and political acumen, Dina Nath rose to the highest position of power and influence in the affairs of the State. The scholar Lepel Griffin called him the 'Talleyrand of the Punjab'. The outstanding ability of Dewan Dina Nath was that he knew how to keep his ambition in check. He knew every face and name, and was constantly reassuring everyone of his "immense interest" in his or her welfare.
The most remarkable ability of Dewan Dina Nath was that he remained an exceptionally low profile person, yet his grip on the affairs of State, especially on financial matters, was "iron-like". The entire military depended on him for money. That is why a few scholars have even gone to the extent of suggesting that after Maharajah Ranjit Singh, he was probably the most powerful person in the Lahore Darbar.
In the turbulent days following Maharajah Ranjit Singh's death, he refused to take sides with Rani Chand Kaur or Kanvar Sher Singh. It was a dangerous balancing act, but he performed it with immense expertise, never letting real financial power slip from his hands. Upon his succession to the throne, Maharajah Sher Singh reposed his full trust in him. Dina Nath retained his position at the court during the reign of both Maharajah Hira Singh and Jawahar Singh, as well as during the regency of Maharani Jind Kaur.
For a good ten years he firmly held the purse of the Punjab, a duty he performed with immense honesty. The one single quote one has been able to find ascribed to him is: "Greed invariably grows, till even the mightiest fall. So curb greed and enjoy the serenity of simplicity". It speaks much of the man whom the British were to later honour in ever possible way.
After the Anglo-Sikh War of 1845-46, the British nominated him a member of the Council of Regency established in Lahore for the minor king, Maharaja Daleep Singh. In November 1847, the title of the Raja of Kalanaur, with a jagir worth Rs. 20,000 annually, was conferred upon him. After the annexation of the Punjab in 1849, Dewan Dina Nath served under the British, who confirmed him in his jagirs worth about Rs. 50,000/- annually.
By the Treaty of Lahore, Sir Henry Lawrence was appointed the British resident in Lahore. The few months following the treaty, it was Dina Nath who informed a disillusioned Rani Jindan and Lal Singh about the true intentions of the British. In a way he was the man who informed the Sikh rulers that the British were here to stay.
When the Resident asked the Lahore Darbar to surrender Kashmir to Raja Gulab Singh, Lal Singh indirectly encouraged Imamuddin, the Darbar's Muslim Governor there, to resist. Lal Singh was exiled, on charges of conspiracy against the British Resident. Dewan Dina Nath remained neutral in the matter, for technically the end had not been reached.
With Pandit Dina Nath, now the Raja of Kalanaur, in saddle, hundreds of Kashmiri Pandits migrated to Lahore from Kashmir. He became the rallying factor of all these fresh immigrants and invariably helped them to influential careers. In the course of time, Pandit colonies sprang up in Lahore, the most famous of them being Krishen Nagar and Sant Nagar.
In view of the fact that Raja Dina Nath and other Kashmiri Pandit notables had succeeded in winning the confidence of the British conquerors, the East India Company meted out to them great encouragement, and made them recipients of many posts of trust and honour, which were, till then, kept closed to Indians. Till then there were very few Kashmiri Pandits residing at Lahore. Dewan Dina Nath died in Lahore in February 1857, just before the War of Independence broke out and failed. He was cremated outside Mori Gate, and his ashes consigned to the River Ravi.