| October 16, 2005 | Sunday | Ramzan 11, 1426 |
Well-deserved brownie points
What if an earthquake hits Karachi
NAWABZADA Liaquat Ali Khan (1895-1951) was the first prime minister of Pakistan (1947-51). And he was chosen for that office by the All-India Muslim League (AIML) which, having won some 88 per cent of the Muslim seats and secured about 75 per cent of the popular vote cast in the Muslim constituencies during the critical 1945-46 general elections, was the sole representative body of the hundred million Muslims of (undivided) India. This meant that Liaquat was next only to Quaid-i-Azam Jinnah (1876-1948) at that historic moment.
Now, what were Liaquat’s credentials that got him nominated without the least opposition as the executive head of the new state of Pakistan? Liaquat was the leader of the Muslim League bloc in the interim government for some nine months (October 1946-July 1947). He was the deputy leader of the Muslim League Assembly Party in the Central Assembly since 1940, and since Jinnah, if only because of his engrossing engagements, seldom attended the assembly sessions, Liaquat was for all practical purposes the de facto leader. He was also general secretary of the AIML, to which post he was elected unanimously at the Bombay (1936) League session, and this at the instance of Jinnah himself. More important; he was the longest serving general secretary of the League in all its annals, even out-serving the legendary Sir Wazir Hasan (1912-19) of yester-years.
Liaquat was also a member of the League Central Parliamentary Board. He was, thus, in part responsible for the selection of League candidates for the Central Assembly and for adjudicating disputes between prospective League candidates for the provincial polls during 1945-46.
As leader of the League group in the interim government and as finance minister, Liaquat had presented “the poor man’s budget” in February 1947, which badly mauled the capitalist and merchant class patrons of the Congress. This exasperated the Congress leadership, especially Sardar Vallabhbhai Patel (1875-1950), “the Iron Man of the Congress”, inducing them to conclude, however reluctantly, that working with the Muslim League as coalition partners was totally impossible, and that partition was the only way out of the festering Indian deadlock. It may be remembered that the grudging Congress acceptance came within two weeks of Liaquat’s epoch-making budget — March 8, 1947.
Jinnah was known to be a strict disciplinarian; he was also an exacting president. To work in an organization headed by him, and that next only to him, was no mean task, nor was it enviable. That Liaquat served under him for 11 long years and still continued to enjoy his confidence, says a good deal about his capabilities to implement policies and programmes decided upon by the League’s high command, and to look after day-to-day organizational matters. More important, Liaquat was also supremely successful in keeping factious and feuding provincial leaders within reasonable limits of divergence and infighting. Liaquat was unassuming all the time; he believed in working behind the scenes; he never sought the limelight; above all, he was content to work under Jinnah’s towering shadow. Hence his role in the organization and in solving problems that arose from time to time has not generally received the kind of attention and recognition it should normally have.
However, a study of the Quaid-i-Azam Papers and the archives of the freedom movement which have become accessible to researchers only recently reveal that all through this period he served as a shock absorber and trouble shooter. Above all, his quiet diplomacy and unassuming demeanour enabled him to play out this role rather superbly.
Indeed, several top leaders (e.g., Nawab Ismail Shin of the UP, Sir Sikander Hayat Khan of Punjab and Fazlul Haq of Bengal) sent messages to Jinnah through Liaquat — messages which they could not address directly to Jinnah, for fear of being misunderstood. Thus, Liaquat helped to narrow down differences within the party’s leadership from time to time; to keep Jinnah apprised of developments which, if left unchecked, could have led to crises, to mollify estranged leaders or Jinnah, as the case may be, to checkmate the differences coming into the open, and to keep the somewhat ‘monolithic’ edifice of the League’s leadership intact. Clearly, this was a critical prerequisite for success in the on-going tussle against the Congress, in inducing the fence-sitters to join the bandwagon, and in the struggle for Pakistan.
On occasions, Liaquat deputized for Jinnah, and also served as his (unofficial) spokesman. For instance, in his address to the Aligarh students on Sept 22, 1945 when Liaquat called upon them “to play their part boldly” in the forthcoming general elections which was “a matter of life and death to the Muslims”, arguing what use would be a degree “if the future is dark and disappointing”. Likewise, at the Meerut divisional conference on March 25-26, 1939, where he propounded partition as the most rational solution to India’s constitutional problem. Again, in December 1939, in his interview with Sir Stafford Cripps when he proposed three possible constitutional solutions: outright partition between Muslims and Hindus, a loose confederation with a limited centre, and the provincial option. Remarkably though, these proposals corresponded to the three major British answers to the Indian problem in the 1940s: Mountbatten’s partition plan (1947), the Cabinet Mission three-tier scheme (1946), and the Cripps’ (local option) offer (1942). On all these occasions, Liaquat’s call and proposals, as the case may be, were meant to be trial balloons, if only to test the mood and reaction from the respondents, without however committing Jinnah and the AIML to them officially.
Jinnah was, of course, the supreme leader, but as I have argued in my Jinnah (1981) book, he was, like Lenin (1970-1921), essentially a party man, with his personality being sustained by, and developed within, the party. Moreover, during the momentous decade of 1937-47, he came to be identified as The Party. Yet even he needed a team of lieutenants to put his plans through, and that team was headed by Liaquat.
How ably he headed comes out demonstrably during the birth-pangs of the fledgling state. Pakistan’s birth, as is well known, was made all the more cataclysmic by a host of problems that engulfed the new-born nation on the morrow of freedom — problems such as the Punjab holocaust, the en masse migration of the Hindu and Sikh business, managerial and entrepreneur class, the immigration of some seven million refugees from across the border, the lack of a central government, a capital, an administrative core and an organized defence force, and India’s denial of a major share of Pakistan’s cash balances and defence equipment and store, its occupation of Junagadh and its back-door entry into Kashmir through fraudulent means, and the shutting off, in April 1948, of the flow of water from headworks in India into Pakistani canals, which irrigated some 1.7 million acres.
Jinnah’s presence at this juncture was, of course, critical — not only in formulating policies to steer the new-born nation out of the crisis it had found itself enmeshed in, but, more important, in energizing the people, in raising their morale, and in canalizing along constructive channels the profound feelings of patriotism that the coming of freedom had generated. But Liaquat was the man who supervised the implementation of these policies, filled in the gaps, and attended to the details. Indeed, as The Times of India (Bombay) remarked on his demise, “No man played more successfully the role of Cavour to his leader Mazzini.”
However, the acid test came in the wake of Jinnah’s death on Sept 11, 1948, when Liaquat was called upon to don the mantle of leadership. Some American circles, for instance, speculated whether the desire for a separate existence among Muslims would survive the catastrophic event. Even George Bernard Shaw (1856-1950) wrote to Pandit Jawaharlal Nehru (1889-1964) on Sept 18, 1948, “I am wondering whether the death of Jinner (Jinnah) will prevent you from coming to London. If he has no competent successor you will have to govern the whole Peninsula.” But during the next three years (1948-51) Liaquat proved to be more than a competent successor. He belied the assumption that Pakistan would collapse once it had to face the problems by itself without the guidance of the great leader.
Jinnah, even as Richard Symonds remarks, had “contributed more than any other man to Pakistan’s survival”; but as prime minister, Liaquat did a good deal in consolidating what had already been achieved in Jinnah’s life-time, and, moreover, in enlarging those gains and in carrying the process of building Pakistan further. The deft manner in which he tackled internal and external problems and consolidated Pakistan in the wake of the Quaid’s death won him recognition, both nationally and internationally. And as Sir Olaf Caroe, the last British Governor of the NWFP, said: “Three years of Liaquat Ali Khan’s leadership carried Pakistan through difficulty and crisis to the achievement of a degree of political stability rare in any democratic country..., of economic prosperity beyond her own rosiest dreams, and of an honoured place in the affairs of nations.”
Indeed, in Liaquat’s time, torn as several Asian countries were by internal disorders, political strife, and economic problems, Pakistan was considered the most stable and unified nation in Asia, with a firm commitment to freedom, democracy, social justice and world peace, and economically solvent.
— The author, founder-director of the Quaid-i-Azam Academy (1976-89), is co-editor of Unesco’s “History of Humanity”, vol. VI).
HATS off to the Punjab government. True to form, its response to the national quake tragedy has been exemplary. The chief minister, we are told, is bending over backwards to raise funds for the victims of the disaster while he happens to be abroad. What if he can’t be here in person? His heart and mind are with those who have lost everything.
From the local press to the radio stations, we are given daily and hourly updates as to the pain and anguish felt by the very sensitive Chaudhry Pervaiz Elahi, first in London and now in the US, and how he cannot get off the phone. What with all the instructions he has to give to the ministers and his deputies who themselves are too shattered with grief to think straight. He can’t but be doing just that at this terrible hour of national calamity.
Let there be no doubt that the CM is monitoring his government’s response to the tragedy from abroad. He is keeping count of every flour bag, every kilogram of pulses, every mineral water bottle, each blanket and what have you in relief goods that are being sent by his deputies, on his orders, to the Frontier and Azad Kashmir. The city district government, too, is being instructed by Chaudhry Sahib to do more for the victims, and if it weren’t for the CM, they wouldn’t know who to look to for guidance in these trying times.
The city has been painted red with banners, urging the citizens to donate wholeheartedly to the relief effort. The banners even tell you where to go and make your donation, with half of them preferring the army-run relief camps and the other half those of the Punjab and city district governments. The way the tragic events have unfolded over the past week, there was no time to put up hoardings with the pictures of our leaders calling the nation to action. Hopefully this will be done in the days ahead.
Punjab being the biggest province must do more than all other provinces put together, say the CM’s many spokesmen, as they are instructed to do, and who spend half the day on air, courtesy the local radio stations. The other half of the day is obviously spent taking orders from the CM on the phone and the remainder of the time on carrying out the boss’s bidding with regard to the relief effort.
The man has become so obsessed with the charitable cause, we are told, that he can’t bring himself up to boarding a plane back home for fear that his rescue and relief teams in Lahore will be left without guidance for the those unfruitful hours he’d have to kill aboard the plane. But he could derive some satisfaction from the fact that while he is flying, his helicopter back home is doing the same — carrying relief goods to the affected.
God bless Chaudhry Sahib and his deputies who have done Punjab proud by such selfless response to the national relief effort. So proud are Lahorites and all Punjabis today for having him as their chief minister that when the other day somebody mentioned Mian Shahbaz Sharif’s name in his own constituency in the city, many were heard asking spontaneously, “Mian who?”
IT would be unfair not to take note here of the immense contribution ordinary people are making to the relief effort. Many say they are reminded of the 1965 war. But there are those also who tell you that such a great enthusiasm to donate, to help out those in pain and need, was last seen at independence when hundreds of thousands of refugees came to the city after having lost everything in partition riots. The scale of the calamity faced today and the tragedy of it all is none the less painful.
There is not a street corner, a roundabout or a mohalla in the city that does not have a relief camp set up by volunteers who do not wear their political affiliations on their sleeves. Young men, doctors, boy scouts, paramedics, even women, anyone with any training at all to help out with nursing the wounded have headed north. Young callers can be heard on radio, pleading with celebrities, begging them to ask their parents to let them go and help out the victims in the affected areas.
At one of the relief camps set up at the Fortress Stadium, trucks ready to be filled with the donated goods lined the road, waiting for their turn. There was also a beeline of those wishing to make cash donations as army personnel issued receipts. Many donors insisted on anonymity, so a lot of receipts were issued without a name on them. A burqa-clad woman donated Rs15, another handed over a kilogram-pack of pulses, while a labourer brought a five-kg flour bag; it was whoever could give whatever. Bless them all.
The utility and neighbourhood karyana stores are running out of everyday supplies and bottled water. The city’s pharmacies, too, are running low on life-saving drugs and pain killers, but the demand for these items keeps mounting. For once the shopkeepers are not overcharging, and many are chipping in with their own bit, be it even a rupee or two on each item.
The only place where it’s all quiet in the proverbial sense are the mosques. While the mullahs thundered and warned of the Almighty’s wrath in their Friday sermons as usual and prayed for the souls of the departed, there were no appeals for help of the survivors or any collections made after the prayers. As they say, some things never change.
THE SOS Children’s Village people called up the Dawn offices on Friday to publicize the need for handing over the orphans of the tragedy to their as well as other such well-reputed institutions only. There were reports of some greedy people, they said, offering to adopt the ill-fated children from the hospitals where many of them had been brought for treatment. In a country where child abuse is so rampant —- look at the sheer number of begging children with broken limbs —- the government must watch out against such an eventuality.
Also, it would help to announce a policy that those wishing to adopt an orphan could not lay a claim to the compensation money being awarded by the government to the survivors of the quake. All orphans must be registered and handed over only to the government or reputable NGO-run institutions, and adoptions dispensed through them. This is one lesson that must be learnt from last year’s Asian tsunami when trade in orphans hit an all-time high in the affected countries. —OBSERVER
The 8th October earthquake that has struck tragedy for Pakistan is going to stay with us, in more ways than one, for a long time. Some sorrows stay forever? For that matter, some fears stay always.
Having said this, one would like to get to a fear that has come alive in Karachi with the earthquake that has left at least 25,000 individuals dead, and over 55,000 injured and millions of people homeless in a devastation of virtually unlimited proportions. The fuller dimensions of this horrifying experience have yet to be understood, known, and accepted.
This fear relates to the terrifying thought of what would happen were an earthquake of that scale and destruction hits the Sindh capital. Let us face it: this fear is nothing new. The apprehension that disaster could strike this largest city of the country raises its head time and again. Having the Arabian Sea as a neighbour is not just a source of comfort for Karachi. It is, at times, a threatening insecure thought.
Ever since the earthquake hit Azad Kashmir, Islamabad, Lahore and parts of the NWFP, conversation kept returning to the all important questions: What if an earthquake hits Karachi? Are we prepared for the consequences? This is a vulnerable city with a numberless list of multi-storeyed buildings (residential and commercial). Each building is densely populated, over populated, hopelessly inhabited. What will happen if an earthquake of the enormity (7.6 on the Richter scale) that Muzzafarabad or Abbotabad or Bagh was to hit Karachi? Can one comprehend the scale of death and destruction? How long would it take Karachi to recover from that kind of a setback. A virtual undoing that could be, God forbid.
Take into account the way we live, and the state of our fire brigade services, especially in Defence and Clifton, which pay the highest taxes in town. Take into account the point that there is only one snorkel for the entire city. Look at the number of billboards and hoardings that Karachi has and the state of the multi-storeyed buildings and the infrastructure, like electricity wiring that they have. In this city, notwithstanding, all the modern architects and super duper construction companies and builders, the kind of housing deal, most citizens receive from them is a nightmare. Price wise, quality wise, time scale... everything is loaded against the citizens. And life goes on.
Now this earthquake chapter has reopened in a big way, the forgotten dormant focus on being prepared if a disaster or a calamity hits us. And in all the conversations and television channel panel discussions that have taken place there is no note of optimism. More fear in fact. More worry, which reflects a life time of nonchalance and acceptance of the fact we have not been able to initiate and develop a dependable system. Even our blood banks are inadequate at their optimum. Admittedly, Karachi’s response so far, to the earthquake horror has been exemplary, inspiring and evokes memories of togetherness seen during the September 1965 war. But that alone would not enable us to combat the consequences of a disaster. What is called for is a reality-based infrastructure that will deliver when a calamity or catastrophe strikes. We have many newly built overhead bridges, flyovers, and pedestrian overhead bridges etc to think about.
One young Karachiite, I spoke to, explained this amazing and incredible response of the public, (notwithstanding the cheats who may be operating in our midst or the cynicism of evergreen dissenters), by saying that there were at least two particular reasons for this phenomenal grassroots response. First that people have realized how close they are to a disaster due to the television coverage by all the channels. Second, because it is the month of Ramazan, people are in that state of mind where Zakat, Sadqa, Fitra, Fidya, and other reasons for charity are at their highest. The people are psychologically prepared for helping others. He added that there was a need to sustain this impressive momentum for the rest of Ramazan, which would also coincide with the fact that in about three weeks from now, winter will set in, and some of those devastated areas may have the beginning of snow fall.
The subject of an earthquake turned into a kind of reality during the week when tremors of a mild intensity were reported in various parts of Karachi on the night between 11th-12th October, and in particular the Clifton and Defence and adjoining areas were affected. Residents obviously panicked, and experienced a new fear in their urban lives. TV images ran through their minds, and their hearts beat at tsunami pace. A TV channel reported that hundreds of residents in Gulistan-i-Jauhar deserted their homes, and spent the night on the streets.
The Met Office said that the earthquake in Karachi was 4 on the Richter scale. Mild really!
I would like to mention the useful warning that has been issued by the Sir Syed University of Engineering and Technology experts who have advised a series of practical steps to be taken in the event of an earthquake. Of what needs to be done if one is indoors, or outdoors, to save life, and escape injury.
With the way our lives have gone of late, it would be very pragmatic to keep the guidelines handy, and be remembered. For example, one of the advices given is that in the event of an earthquake people should minimize their movement. And if trapped, they should cover their mouth with a handkerchief or cloth, and shout only as a last resort, as shouting can cause them to inhale dangerous amount of dust. Those who have read these guidelines must surely have imagined the worst case scenarios.
At the meeting, it is reported that an expert of Sir Syed varsity said that the tremors in Karachi on 11th-12th were not an earthquake at all, but instead were the result of “compression of soaked soil into solid rock”.
I would like to believe that the meteorological office owes an explanation to Karachiites. We want to know who is right, don’t we?