“PHYSICAL catastrophes have their inevitable and exclusive origin in certain combinations of physical facts”

— Rabindranath Tagore

A WEEK has passed since the terrible disaster which took at least 140 lives, injuring and maiming many others. But the horror of violent death still stains the earth, reminding us of our vulnerability and our mortality. In the recesses of my mind I can hear the turmoil of voices as the wounded and the trapped hang on to shreds of life.

It was dark when the accident happened: I can see shadows emerge from the innards of disembowelled carriages, carrying a child, sliding over surfaces made slippery with blood, struggling to make sense of the tragedy that struck in that hour between day and night.

A fine layer of dust has settled over the platform where a week ago the bodies of the passengers killed while travelling on the three trains to various destinations were laid out, hastily covered with sheets stained dark with death. On the ground I can still see the imprint of feet which stood besides this and that corpse, wondering if a loved one lay beneath that brown chaddar or this white sheet, limbs severed, face mutilated, identity obscured. I turn away quickly, unable to endure the grief which weighs heavy in the dusty air of this small town.

The accident at Ghotki is the tragic manifestation of institutional disrepair and degeneration. Let us consider that all responsibility for the triple train wreck lies on one or several individuals. Let us also take into account that this is one of several accidents in the region. At some point the question must be raised: Is there systemic failure here or is it mere coincidence that human error seems to occur more often within a particular region? Is there a connection between this accident and the earlier one at Ghotki in 1990? What about the massive loss of life in the accident in 1991 at nearby Sangi which left over 200 people dead?

Does this accident have something to do with one or several of the many variables at work in the operation of the railway system? Can we disconnect the behaviour of individuals from the behaviour of systems? Can we take apart a composite whole and isolate components, without seeing the connections inherent in the functioning of any institution, particularly one as complex, large, and layered as Pakistan Railways?

In order to answer these questions it is necessary to put away the immediate sense of outrage and grief. It is necessary to seek clarity within the framework of how we have built our systems and institutions, and how we have dismantled them, brick by brick, layer by layer. It is necessary to look into the patterns of decision-making and policy formulation, as well as into the efficacy of policy implementation. And it is absolutely essential to look within ourselves to see how each one of us, in our individual capacities as citizens, have allowed indifference, apathy, and chaos to replace values of commitment, concern, and discipline.

Pakistan Railways was inherited by us in 1947 as one of the paramount institutions of the British Raj. Intended to exploit the commercial potential of the subcontinent and also to safeguard political, strategic and economic interests, trains were used to transport raw material to the ports and troops to sensitive areas. Following the partition of the subcontinent, the emergent nation-states intended to develop and expand this institution with certain objectives in mind: meeting standards of safety, providing punctuality and comfort to passengers, transporting freight and thereby generating revenue which would allow the running of such a large network as well as its expansion.

Perhaps in the early years of our countries’ history we were able to honour this commitment, fully cognizant of the fact that the legacy of our colonial history had given us institutions which we could use for the benefit of our people. At some point, however, the rot which has beset almost every institution set in, and this institution, like others, began to crack at the joints, displaying signs of a sickness which spreads through the body with devastating consequences.

One of the major blows Pakistan Railways suffered in the era of neo-liberalization was the World Bank initiative towards privatization of large state-owned entities. In 1998 the administrative structure of the institution was “unbundled”, resulting in the dissection of a previously integrated system. This meant that the three major wings of the railways system — passenger, freight, and infrastructure — were made into separate entities with their own territory to manage and control.

In time, this division of sectors led to a conflict of interests between the three areas, leading to the eventual marginalization of freight transport which had already received a blow from the development of the National Logistics Cell (NLC), initially engaged to handle massive imports of wheat in the 1980s. (Why were wheat imports necessary in what had been a food sufficient country?)

In the absence of revenue which was being lost to road transportation systems (was laying the motorway more important than funding the railways?) and with the lack of funding from the ministry, Pakistan Railways found itself floundering with a dual administrative system and empty coffers. At some point the “unbundling” of the system was rethought at the divisional level while at headquarters the division of administrative powers remained.

This duality in itself speaks of schizophrenic systemic design, reflecting the shortsightedness of vision which takes into consideration largely the personal interests of those who had been vested with power and privilege. Recognizing this, we can say that the focus has shifted from institutional efficiency and the functioning of a system as a whole to the preservation of individual benefit. The goals of the institution, therefore, are also obscured, and vision limited.

Today, Pakistan Railways has 86,000 employees. Of these, many thousands have been appointed through the exertion of political influence. There has been no transparency in this process of employment. The question here is why a premier institute handling the transportation of a large number of passengers and a large volume of freight has not been held accountable for this irregularity. Are these people qualified for the job?

Several years ago, around 4,000 people were recruited nationally, most within Sindh and southern Punjab, by the political leadership of the Pakistan Railways. Were these persons fit for the jobs they were given? Were these questions raised at that point in the assemblies? Is it a mere coincidence that three major accidents have occurred in the recent past in the areas where such politically influenced recruitment took place?

Beyond the plausible theory of human error lies the layered and at times flawed functioning of an elaborate and complex system. Behind the obvious physical fact lies the truth which has been obscured from view by our own carelessness and lack of responsibility. Can it be denied that Pakistan Railways has a signalling system which is obsolete? In 2000, a PC-1 was drafted for the revamping of the signalling system. Perhaps for lack of commitment or convincing argument, this proposal was rejected by the Planning Commission.

The question to ask here is: Had there been a fault in the signalling system which resulted in this horrific accident, who would be held responsible? Is it the individual who had to operate an obsolete system, the administration which prioritizes the needs of the system, or the Planning Commission which failed to understand the urgency of this need to upgrade the system?

Similarly, had there been a problem with the track or with engineering or communications system, who would be held responsible? The individual or the institution which has not been able to safeguard its own interests or those of its clients? And how far back has one to go to apportion blame? Where does the rot set in, how many heads must roll in order to redress this and other tragedies?

If there is anything that can be salvaged from the ruins of this tragedy, it is this: that there is little purpose in seeking the individual perpetrator of this crime, that it is essential to look at the failure of the systems and to act responsibly towards the institution and the state and its citizens. We must not look at the empty space in the hangman’s noose to release ourselves from the burden of guilt which we all bear, the guilt which comes from the neglect of our duty as citizens to hold the state responsible for flawed performance, influenced by the politics of patronage, rotting at the core, floundering between thoughtlessness and the bankruptcy of vision.

And if there is anything which emerges from the depth of the carnage at Sarhad station, it is this: that people have acted responsibly towards each other at a time of such desperate need, that those who are already on the edge of survival were willing to provide for those who had escaped death in the middle of the night, that institutions have the ability to act with responsibility as was seen in the working of the Pakistan Railway and armed forces relief teams and public foundations such as Edhi and Minhajul Quran.

Countless people donated blood, still others insisted on registering their names as donors. Members of the minority Hindu community participated in removing the dead and organizing their burial, local shopkeepers dispensed medicine free of cost. This is the message that Ghotki brings to us — that the spirit of the people has not died despite the many injuries inflicted upon it. Let us at least acknowledge this triumph in the face of so much despair.

(Mahir Ali’s column will appear tomorrow.)

DURING the course of my current visit to Islamabad, I had the opportunity to participate in a couple of debates at social gatherings on the measure of success that has attended the war on terror in Pakistan and how this has been influenced by the London blasts and the discovery that three of the bombers were of Pakistani origin and had, in the last few months, spent time in Pakistan.

The intellectual level of the discussants — retired government officials, academics and businessmen — was several notches above that of the “chattering classes” who are supposed, quite wrongly in many cases, to dominate the drawing rooms of our capital city. The debate was rich and intense. I am not sure that I can do full justice in this short piece to all that was said or implied but I will in the following paragraphs try and provide the gist, and more importantly, the flavour of the discourse. It is important as it reflects not only the concerns in different parts of the country but because in certain measure those living in Islamabad and in daily touch with decision-makers have a better idea than others about what the government can and will do to rectify the situation.

There was, first of all, the usual raising of eyebrows about the speed with which the perpetrators of the London outrage were identified. For some, the discovery of documents at the sites, the telephone calls from worried parents and the competence of the investigators were regarded as sufficient to quell doubts. For others, doubts still remained. All were agreed, however, that in the West very few such doubts were entertained. Since three of the perpetrators were not only of Pakistani parentage but had also visited Pakistan in recent months the investigation would focus on Pakistan in an effort to discover their motivations and perhaps even their motivators.

It was agreed that by talking of “pulling up this evil ideology by its roots through concerted international action” and by references to better relations with the Middle East, Tony Blair was implicitly acknowledging what British and other western think tanks are saying openly — the attack in London was prompted by British participation in the Iraqi invasion and by British endorsement of American support for Israel. There was anger in Muslim circles everywhere and it was fuelled in places like Britain by the subtle or not so subtle discrimination against the Muslim community that remained largely unassimilated. The British plans for rectifying the situation by greater integration would take time but the immediate impact would be government measures to tighten controls on the community through enhanced surveillance, etc., and by limiting immigration. Also, whatever the government measures, the general public in Britain would view Muslims with greater suspicion and resentment, thus isolating them further. Many may choose to return to Pakistan bringing money but also a sense of grievance.

It was agreed that migration from Pakistan to the West would be more limited than before and even legitimate students would now find it more difficult to get visas. Business travel would also be affected and this would of course impact on Pakistan’s quest for foreign investment and the transfer of technology. Pakistan’s export driven growth would also be affected.

It was agreed that President Musharraf’s announced crackdown on extremist organizations was sincere. The closure of an extremist publication in Karachi and the arrest of people responsible for circulating it, the military action in North Waziristan, as also the filing of the case before the Supreme Court to declare NWFP’s Hasba bill unconstitutional were at least some steps in the right direction.

But would the implementation of the president’s directive prove more than just cosmetic? Did he enjoy the unanimous support of all his advisers? Was the government machinery in suitable shape to be able to carry out these orders? Would the Supreme Court declare the Hasba unconstitutional? Above all, would the implementation of the president’s orders be welcomed by the general populace or would it be regarded as yet another indication of the president paying lip service to the dictates of foreign forces?

The answers were mixed. Experienced retired administrators were sceptical of the competency of the current district police and civil administrations to carry out the crackdown. It was implied that in part this inability flowed from the degree to which the administrators themselves were sympathetic to the cause of those they were required to crack down on. Others believed that even non-MMA politicians, now sharing power, would stand in the way even while assuring the president of their support since they believed that in the ultimate analysis their political future would depend on establishing their Islamic credentials vis-‘-vis the mainstream political parties.

Yet others said that the generally prevalent view among the privileged that the general populace was in favour of “enlightened moderation” and the implicit downplaying of the role of religion in affairs of state was a misreading of public sentiment. The general public supported Islamization. Anecdotal evidence — educated Pakistanis returning from long and prosperous stays in the UK and the US and putting their children in madressahs for education — was cited. This was not, however, the general view.

The masses wanted relief from their grinding poverty and resented the growing gap between the haves and the have-nots. This could be exploited by “religious” forces or by “progressive” forces. Currently, the religious forces had somewhat greater appeal because they were an untested force. In the medium run, the turn public opinion took in the battle between the haves and the have-nots would be the most important factor in Pakistan but this is not linked to the current discussion.

The most important factor was the intent of the government. It was generally agreed that if the authorities were genuinely committed to a “Pakistan first” policy then there could be no acceptance of militancy in the name of Islam. Muslim anger had to be channelled into the creation of Pakistani unity (with ummah unity following later), greater ethnic and provincial cohesion and the identification of and pursuit of national interests. The latter were narrowly defined as the preservation of Pakistan’s territorial integrity, the insulation of its people from disruptive foreign influences and providing the tradeoffs needed to acquire the wherewithal for its economic development.

It was recalled in this context that a failure in this regard had made Pakistan the secondary and ideological battlefield for the Iran-Iraq war and had given rise to the sectarian strife that was now an ominous part of the political landscape. It was another failure that delusional pan-Islamic ideology rather than national interests had distorted Pakistan’s Afghan policy and created the Kalashnikov and drug culture that we were now trying to eliminate.

Could Pakistan be put first in this sense? The cynical view, alas, widely held was that if past experience was a guide this would not happen. The wishy-washy stance on the blasphemy laws and the Hudood ordinances, the failure to secure the registration of the madressahs, the pampering of the MMA until the time the Hasba bill hit the government in the face suggested that cosmetic measures were all that could be expected.

The other and more optimistic view was that the London blasts and the strong possibility that Pakistani madressahs may have been responsible for their indoctrination (this is no more than conjecture at the moment since there is no hard evidence to suggest that the visits of the three bombers were anything more than an opportunity for meeting family), or worse, their training in the handling of explosives will bring western pressure to bear on Pakistan. Pakistan may be forced to make the same sort of choices that it had to make after 9/11. This would strengthen President Musharraf’s hand and enable him to overcome, as he wants to, the opposition in his inner circle to taking steps that are needed to close the gap between his declaratory and operational policy and to genuinely move Pakistan’s polity towards “enlightened moderation”.

The discussions were inconclusive, as such discussions usually are in the absence of policymakers or advisers. But some interesting nuggets emerged from the discussions. For instance, in the last few years, donations from local philanthropists amounted to about Rs 140 billion annually of which some 90 billion was in cash and the rest in kind. Of this cash amount, some 80 per cent was received by religious organizations for running mosques, madressahs, orphanages and other such facilities.

Perhaps twice this amount was received from foreign donors and much of this continued despite the current monitoring of financial transactions in and out of Pakistan. Also, it was said, that in the period immediately preceding 9/11, representatives of jihadi organizations had supplanted traditional politicians and landowners as the purveyors of local influence in small moffusil towns. This influence was now seen to be on the wane but had not entirely disappeared in the Punjab. It was not clear as to how far it continued to prevail in the NWFP and Balochistan.

A last word from a friend about his reading of Pakistan society. Policy had to be based on the understanding that Pakistani society in the main — the poor and the middle class — was socially conservative and religiously moderate and tolerant. It was Barelvi not Deobandi and therefore for a liberal and not rigid interpretation of religion. It was for “ijtehad” if this did not offend social norms which would evolve but slowly. Its moorings were in South Asia and these ties could not be sundered but they were not, despite the “cultural invasion”, overwhelming.

If the right atmosphere prevailed, Pakistan would evolve a culture of its own similar to but distinguishable from its counterpart across the border. Using this culture to develop a sense of distinct nationhood is perhaps the best antidote for the groping for identity that may in part lie at the root of misguided pan-Islamism. These are thoughts on which we all need to ponder and express our views.

WHEN I sometimes read in the press that two political parties, the PPP and the PML-N, have rejected some new move of the government — just as they had rejected the devolution plan — it makes sense only to the point that the two are politically something to be reckoned with. Otherwise what does their rejection amount to? Were they asked by the government to comment on the plan, or on any other plans that they are determined to implement? And can they stop these plans?

It reminds me of the poem of our school days. A squire, fascinated by a young milkmaid, asks her a number of questions about her family, her fortune, etc. But when she tells him “My face is my fortune, kind sir,” he rejects her (like the PPP and PML rejecting changes in the administration) with the words, “Then I can’t marry you, my pretty maid.” On which the milkmaid has the last word: “Nobody asked you, kind sir.”

I must say however that so far the rejection of government plans has always been from the side of politicians, public organizations, religious bodies, etc., but recently the federal government has created a new precedent. It has rejected MMA government’s Hasba bill passed by the NWFP Assembly. This may be called breaking new ground by an enterprising regime.

The political parties can say it is their duty to opine on projected changes when they are of the magnitude of the devolution plan, and they are involved because they represent people. But didn’t it make you laugh when a news report said two or three years ago: “Bureaucracy rejects new system of administration?” Another said: “DMG thinks plan will not improve matters.”

Maybe, the bureaucracy in general and the DMG in particular were right, but what, one may ask, has the DMG, or its richer elder (and more attractive) sister, the CSP, ever done to give the country a good administration? These people talk as if the administration and the old local government in Pakistan were the best in the world, perfect in every respect, and what a pity the army, out of sheer spite, was out to destroy them!

Everyone will agree that it is men and women who make the administration and not good or bad methods. Forty years ago, the section officers scheme was introduced at the centre and in the provinces with much fanfare. It was claimed that the people would get a more responsive bureaucracy through it. But all of us know that nothing of the sort happened. The administration remained as bad as ever. The thing is that if you rename the assistant secretary as section officer, and start routing files through a different channel, what change for the better can you expect?

I think the DMG’s objection to the new plan was that there would be no AC and DC, assistant commissioner and deputy commissioner, the repositories of power and clout and influence (and eligibility as bridegrooms) in the administrative hierarchy. The whole fun would go out of the job. Somehow the district coordination officer doesn’t sound the same. Which reminds me of an incident that I always narrate as a joke but which is topical in the circumstances.

At the time when we young men, friends all, were in the throes of job-hunting, and then triumphantly succeeded in becoming gazetted officers in the rather lowly Grade-16, one of us could only manage a clerk’s job in the DC’s office. He made the most of it by deciding to create an impression. Outside his modest residence, his name-plate carried the legend D.C. in bold letters, followed by the word “office” in very small letters. He was speaking the truth but not the whole truth. Maybe the erstwhile DCs will find some such way to impress the public in the new dispensation.

By the way, how did the bureaucracy and the DMG convey their displeasure about the new scheme to newspaper reporters? They don’t have a trade union or an association with one of them acting as spokesman. Did some of them approach friendly journalists, or did the latter go from one officer to another seeking their views? Much more important than this is the question, what exactly did they mean when they “rejected” the devolution thing? They did not refuse to work under it, nor did any one of them resign in protest. There is nothing more puerile than a government officer “rejecting” an administrative change. It is more laughable than a Sikh joke.

This business of newspapers publishing the views of bureaucrats takes me to another point. Much publicity was given to the feeler from corrupt officers published some time ago that if their jobs were spared they were willing to return the loot they have accumulated over the years. How did this feeler emerge? Who suggested it for the first time and which officer was it who contacted the press and requested it to make it public so that it reaches the government? No “self-respecting” officer will admit before a journalist that he has been corrupt, even if the journalist is a trusted friend.

How come the police did not reject the devolution plan? When he has to report to an elected member of the public, the police officer too does not have that unbridled authority and clout which he enjoyed before. Some years ago there was an unbelievable report from Kasur that when a civil judge sentenced an ASI to three months jail for contempt of court, the SSP sent a posse to relieve the convicted ASI and to make the judge withdraw his order at gunpoint. Was the report true? We miss such news items under the devolution plan and police officers certainly have a reason to complain that the system was bound to be destructive.

So, what’s to be done about devolution? The answer is nothing. A bold new experiment was made in which you can’t even say that the army was going to get anything. So, let everyone cooperate and let the public benefit from its good points. And if it is going to be such a devastating failure as the politicians and bureaucrats think, I am sure it will be reversible.

AS THE dust settles on London’s horrific suicide bombings, there are many concerns being expressed. At the international and the political level, this act of some perverted individuals, said to be linked to the Al Qaeda and its affiliates’ network, is seen from the perspective of the war on terrorism.

The question being asked is whether this war, spearheaded by the US and supported by a number of other governments including Pakistan’s, is succeeding in its mission. So many terrorist attacks have occurred in the wake of 9/11 — Bali, Madrid, Morocco, Istanbul and now London — that the focus has shifted more towards an analysis of the failure or success of the anti- terror strategy.

A serious attempt is being made once again to analyze the factors that have spawned the terror phenomenon, especially in view of the fact that many of the explanations given have, over a period of time, proved to be quite off the mark. The new phase of exploration and rationalization as reflected in the press and the electronic media in Britain and the US appears to have prompted analysts and policymakers to revise their understanding of the terrorist’s mind and motives. The main reason for this change is the emergence of, what the British media terms, “home grown” terrorism.

Until now, it was widely believed that if the intelligence agencies could figure out Al Qaeda’s military strategy and stop terrorists from entering the targeted states, they could easily pre-empt fresh attacks. Hence the focus was on stringent immigration laws, airport checks and physical search and surveillance. Now it is being realized that there are other factors that contribute to the rise of terrorism and need to be addressed and rooted out as well.

It is now widely admitted that the earlier belief that poverty and illiteracy make Third World countries the breeding ground for terrorism does not hold true in its entirety. The terrorists are by no means poverty stricken. Many of them have been found to be highly educated and qualified.

So what is it that caused British born young men to turn against the very society and system they were born in and had lived in. This has come as a shock to most Britons since it clearly indicates that they have to do something to address their policy vis-a-vis the immigrants. Three of the bombers were of Pakistani origin and had visited their parents’ home country at one stage or another and some are described as being disaffected. Obviously, Britain’s society and the country’s education system failed to inculcate in them the humanism and the culture of tolerance that characterizes mainstream Britain.

Another hotly debated issue has been in respect of the driving force behind terrorism: is it political or is it ideological? A school of thought, which is articulated by those who opposed the war on Iraq, says that the causes of terrorism are political. It is the high incidence of injustice, especially the excesses committed against the Muslims, in Palestine, Iraq, Afghanistan, Chechnya and so on, that has angered them and spurred on the fringe fundamentalist elements to resort to violence.

Claire Short, the British cabinet minister who resigned in protest against Tony Blair’s war against Iraq, said, “We are implicated in the slaughter of large numbers of civilians in Iraq and supporting a Middle East policy that for the Palestinians creates this sense of double standards that feeds anger.” This is the widespread belief in the Muslim world as well. The Aga Khan also expressed similar views in an interview after the London bombings.

There are others, at times, the extremists from other faiths or those with not sufficient understanding of Islam, who believe that Islam preaches violence and so the war on terror will have to be fought on the battlefield of ideology alone with strategic weapons as has been done in Afghanistan and Iraq. By weeding out terrorists, arresting them and killing them (the massacre of innocent civilians being unavoidable collateral damage), many hardliners in the West are convinced that they can counteract terrorism. That is the approach that underpins the American anti- terrorism strategy.

Even though this strategy has failed and has spawned more violence in the process, those perceiving Islamic ideology as the root cause continue to push their policy. For them, the long-term options, which also call for the elimination of political and social injustices in the world system, are not so acceptable. They would not produce instant results and would require far- reaching changes in the foreign policy of a number of states.

Where does the truth lie? The fact is that there is an element of truth in all arguments. For instance, while addressing Labour Party activists, Tony Blair did not describe the terrorist attacks as a clash of civilization. He said that all civilized people, Muslims and others, feel revulsion at it. He called it “a battle of ideas and hearts and minds within Islam and outside it”.

For once the British prime minister has hit the nail on the head. For it is now well known, whether we acknowledge it or not, that today’s world is polarized between the radicalized extremists of all faiths — be they Islamists, evangelical Christians, the Hindutva brand of Hindus and the orthodox Jews — and moderate elements from all sides of the religious spectrum who respect human life and uphold the dignity of fellow men and women. After all, it cannot be denied that terrorism was unleashed even before Iraq and 9/11. But, at the same time, the current phase of violence and denial of rights of the Palestinians began much before the Arabs began hitting back. But it is no use trying to play the blame game, which is now futile.

What needs to be realized is that the underlying causes of terror are basically political — it is a struggle for power — with an ideology, such as religion, being used by all parties to strengthen their hands and mobilize support. That is why God is invoked so freely today to reinforce the struggle for a political cause. Did not the Americans support the Mujahideen against the Soviet Union in Afghanistan in the eighties? The Mujahideen’s battle cry was ‘jihad’ and Islam.

Israel has used Zionism as its rallying cry to occupy Palestine and to regain Jerusalem. Hasn’t it been easier to mobilize the faithfuls of any religion by asking them to come and fight a religious war? Even the Crusades had a political war aim. Religion has been used as an instrument in politics for centuries, but more for expediency than out of spiritual reasons.

Not surprisingly, when carried to the extreme, religion has contradicted modern day secular values and human rights. It is the ferocity of the attacks, the use of modern technology and the easy mobility terrorists enjoy across borders by virtue of globalization that have made the phenomenon of terrorism such an unprecedented and dangerous exercise.