![]() Highlights of the April 2004 issue
Who are these people?
The Imperial Gazetteer of India describes the Ahmadzai Wazirs as a "soft and tractable people" who had "at no time given trouble" to the British. In fact, it was the Ahmadzais who invited the British to occupy their territory, in turn enabling them to open the Gomal Pass as an access route to southern Afghanistan. But as the Pakistani establishment has learnt at great human and political cost, times have changed. The Ahmadzais are a branch of the larger Wazir tribe that occupies territory from Gulkatch and Zhob in the south to Khost and Kurram in the north and from Bannu and Tank in the east to Gardez, Orgun and Rabat in the west. They constitute one-third of the population of South Waziristan which is dominated by the Mahsuds. But while the Mahsuds mostly occupy the central and eastern highlands, the Ahmadzais control the more fertile plains of Wana and the thickly-forested heights that run up to Barmal in the west and join the western spurs of North Waziristan's mountains in the north. This essentially means that the Ahmadzais are spread on both sides of the entire Afghan border adjoining South Waziristan. Their comparative prosperity and tribal affinity with people living west of the Durand Line gives the Ahmadzais a direct stake in the political situation in Afghanistan. Their involvement in Afghan affairs increased following the Soviet invasion in 1980. Tucked away in a remote corner of the border region away from the glare of national and international media, Ahmadzai country became one of the earliest launching pads for the clandestine anti-Soviet Afghan resistance which was infused with the ideology of Islam and found willing adherents among the local population. Some sections of the Ahmadzais have hung on to this mission even after the tide has turned in Islamabad.
Behind the bluster
After 13 days of a major cordon-and-search operation across a 36 square-kilometre area west of Wana, South Waziristan Agency, the government claimed to have dismantled a "den of hardened miscreants" and prevented them from seeking further sanctuary in the area. Lt General Safdar Hussain, commander 11 Corps at Peshawar, confidently declared on March 26: "We have accomplished the mission that was given to us." But have they?
Winds of Change
The bloody conflict in the tribal areas, particularly in South Waziristan, seems to have spawned a new and strange kind of Pakhtun nationalism. Mehmood Khan Achakzai, Qazi Hussain Ahmed, Maulana Sheerani and other politicians with different agendas are now on the same bandwagon. Many serving and retired officers hailing from the country's north-western region also describe the armed clashes in Wana and its adjoining areas as an "attack on Pakhtun tribesmen, their culture and traditions." In fact, some of them even recall the promise implicit in the Quaid-e-Azam's orders reversing the policy of the British colonial army to maintain a military cantonment in the area. The various Pakhtun leaders and officials certainly have their own take on the army action in Waziristan. Those belonging to the Muttahida Majlis e-Amal forcefully defend the presence of what they call the foreign mujahideen in the area. Leaders such as Achakzai, on the other hand, blame the Pakistani military establishment for providing a safe haven for these foreigners in the first place. Even so, both regard the operation as an attack on the "sovereignty" of the tribals and want an immediate withdrawal of troops from the area. Some even take pride in the fact that the "fearlessly independent tribesmen" inflicted heavy casualties on the troops. Others are convinced that Islamabad's interference in the tribal areas amounts to a breach of several treaties binding the tribals to the Pakistani federation, thereby freeing the former to opt for independence or join Afghanistan.
Legal Imbroglio
The military government has talked up a storm in the days following the Wana operation and ostensibly acquitted itself admirably in the media trial. The local press corps which debated the pros and cons of siding with the militants were met with fine rhetoric about "terrorism" and "national integrity". Meanwhile, foreign journalists who debated the outcome of the operation were silenced by the 'evidence'. As the government persuasively argued, the 100-odd deaths were conclusive proof of its victory. However, a fortnight after the onset of the operation, the glib talkers in the government still have little to say about its legality. Interviews with government spokesmen suggest that following legal procedures was not a priority. More disturbingly, the holes in their arguments indicate a callous disregard for the law of the land. The Federally Administered Tribal Areas (FATA) occupy a special place in Pakistani law. According to the constitution, even the laws made by the parliament cannot apply to FATA unless the president so directs. Q. Under what law did the government conduct the operation in South Waziristan? A. In the tribal areas, there's a law known as the Frontier Crimes Regulation of 1901 (FCR). Under this law, there's the concept of collective responsibility which means that each man is responsible for the whole tribe and each tribe is responsible for each man. Furthermore, there is the concept of territorial responsibility whereby every tribe is responsible for any crime that occurs in their territory. Right now, there are certain foreign elements who have come into these areas so we asked the tribes to hand them over to the government. When the tribes failed to do so despite a number of ultimatums and deadlines, we used clause 21 of the FCR which says we can seize their property, arrest them, haul up their vehicles and pressurise them to offload criminals. The tribes were also asked to hand over the tribesmen who harboured and sheltered those people. And over 100 people were identified to them. But they handed over about 50 of them. They had promised to hand over the rest of the people but were not able to deliver. So we had to take action.
Off centre
Between the lines
Chosen by General Ziaul Haq possibly for his apparent docility, Junejo proved his mettle soon after taking oath. He forced Zia to lift martial law, a cursed and uncivilised system of governance that the hapless Pakistanis have been subjected to often enough in the past and may well have to endure God knows how many times in the future. (In a move that garnered much befitting antipathy, the Americans recently claimed that Pakistan will have to live with military rule for another five years.) He also coerced the military dictator to drastically amend his Revival of Constitutional Order that sought to legitimise the transition from a military government to a civilian one. Expectedly, Junejo's moves did not go down well with Zia who used the powers appropriated by him through Article 58-2(b) of the Constitution and dismissed the former's government. Junejo's fate has a special resonance for Jamali. Much like a disciple of Shaikh Sadi, he seeks to learn from fools by not repeating their mistakes. Similarly, Jamali has consciously stayed away from the path adopted by Junejo and distanced himself from all such acts which have even a remote chance of resulting in his ouster.
The Final cut
A problem arises and is dismissed nonchalantly as an issue of minimal importance that can be dealt with some time in the future. Of course, as is the case with all problems, they tend to grow out of hand over time. Extras have always been an area of concern in Pakistan cricket. Even the great side that won the 1992 World Cup lacked discipline in this respect. But since the team was winning, Imran Khan ignored the no balls and wides conceded by Wasim Akram and Waqar Younis. Wickets were all that mattered. Now, 12 years down the line, the matter has assumed fresh urgency due largely to the professionalism brought to the game by sides such as Australia. With cricket reaching competitive heights never before seen, a few runs are often the difference between victory and defeat. In the first ODI against India in Karachi, Pakistan conceded 30 bowling extras and lost by five runs; in the fourth game there were 28 extras. In Karachi, Sachin Tendulkar was caught off a no ball and as if that wasn't enough, Pakistan deemed it fit to repeat the feat at Peshawar. The batsman was once again Tendulkar with Shabbir Ahmed the bowling culprit. And when you consider the balls that need to be re-bowled and the runs scored off illegal deliveries, a few dozen extras can add up to 70 or even 100 runs.
Besides the point
People who are more in the loop tell me there is a chance now for real peace, which many seem to prefer over death and destruction. This is not an unreasonable stance. It makes no sense to fight, especially with people who like cricket. There are other commonalities too. We may be better looking than the Indians and they may produce slicker movies but we have similar taste buds, rendered useless over the years by cuisine lacking in subtlety. In many cases, we even share a language. Then there is the small matter of mutually assured destruction if both sides decide to nuke each other on a slow Sunday. So a party with Indians present can never be dull. There will be plenty to talk about. They can bring the booze, since none is available in this country, and we will play the perfect hosts.
Clueless in Quetta
Meanwhile, politicians and bureaucrats keep up the usual rhetoric in the face of their falling credibility. Says Jam Mohammad Yousuf, Chief Minister of Balochistan: "We have been able to identify the group and the people behind sectarian attacks and efforts are underway to arrest the responsible persons. But the government by itself cannot control a major social evil like sectarian strife." The Inspector-General of Police, Balochistan, Shoaib Suddle, says that several people have been detained by the police for interrogation, but there is no proof to indict any one of them. In other words, the culprits behind sectarian attacks in Quetta are still at large.
Q. Sectarian violence has hit Quetta hard where three major incidents of violence occurred during the last eight months. What are the causes and who are behind such attacks?
A. Sectarian violence was never a part of the Balochistan scene. It travelled from Sindh to the Punjab and back to Sindh where it has played havoc with people's lives. Religious leaders and professional groups such as doctors in Sindh faced the brunt of this violence. Now it enters Balochistan. Shia and Sunni communities in Balochistan are living in a very cordial atmosphere, so it could be the act of armed sectarian outfits that are known for such violence in Pakistan. Such organisations are capable of using economically disgruntled elements to perpetrate violence. It is also likely that those people who were trained to carry out certain tasks in Afghanistan at the time of the Soviet invasion became tools in the hands of other agencies or organisations who gain from destabilising Pakistan. Q. Some sections ascribe motives to the Muttahidda Majlis-e-Amal (MMA), which is a coalition partner in your government. Do you agree? A. No. There are some banned organizations such as the Sipah-e-Sahaba, Lashkar-e-Jhangvi and Jaish-e-Muhammad which are perpetrating such violence. The mainstream religio-political parties are focussing more on social uplift as a means of gaining popularity. The MMA's role has been positive. Actually, terrorism in its different forms is not confined to Pakistan. It is an international phenomenon. Suicide bombers have come up as a force that cannot be controlled even by the most developed countries.
Karachi's bomb squad goes bust
The attempted bombing of the US consulate in Karachi on March 15, 2004 revived fears of renewed terror attacks on the country's business capital. However, subsequent investigations reveal that Karachiites have much more to fear than piddly bombs.
Marwa rescues her family
Marwa ran away from Chandio's custody in January 2002. For the next two years, she worked as a daily-wage labourer in fields, simultaneously pursuing her family's case in courtrooms and police stations, lobbying for their release with various lawyers as well as the HRCP. Under the law, a sessions court can issue directions against the illegal detention of persons. On the advice of her lawyer Pir Abdur Rahman Sirhandi, Marwa filed a petition against Long Chandio, Soomar Chandio, Jummo Chandio and others. However, Mirpurkhas district judge Iqbal Arain dismissed the petition in January 2004 and awarded Chandio and Co. compensatory costs of 1,000 rupees. "This is a very influential lot and, as such, very hard to nail," says Sirhandi. "On at least two occasions, Long Chandio filed incorrect and misleading statements before both the high court as well as the district court. He denied keeping haris in bondage and also denied keeping Marwa's relatives in custody. He even managed to get the local police, including the then SHO of Degree Police Station, to file misleading statements before the high court," he says. Undeterred by the verdict of the court, Marwa decided to try a different tack. Sirhandi also happens to be the chairman of the District Public Safety Commission in Mirpurkhas. Accordingly, Marwa requested Sirhandi to order the local DPO to conduct a raid on Chandio's lands and recover her relatives. But even with the law on Marwa's side, the rescue was no cakewalk. "After loading a truck with the recovered haris, we were heading to the main road when we found our passage blocked by tractors and jeeps," recounts the District Police Officer Dr Mohammad Amin Yousufzai. "Long Chandio, his sons and nephews opened fire on us and the ensuing gun battle continued for two hours." The zamindar and his armed men gave up resistance, says fellow hari Bhoro Bheel, only when the police received reinforcements from Jhuddo and other police stations. Chandio later promised to release all in his custody to the police on the condition that no criminal cases would be lodged against him.
Pakistan borrows expensive money through euro bonds
First, the fact that the bonds were oversubscribed does not indicate an increasing confidence reposed in Pakistan’s economy by foreign investors. While the key numbers have improved, the economic fundamentals haven’t changed on their own. The Pakistan economy piggybacked on the changed international economic and political environment after 9/11 and this fact needs to be recognised. As such, the oversubscription has less to do with confidence and more to do with greed. Few can resist the lure of fantabulous interest rates at a time when rates on bonds in international markets are at their lowest in recent history.
DPO becomes judge, jury and executioner
The office of the District Police Officer Sanghar is thronged with people. Understandably so, since the court is in session and DPO Dr Amir Ahmed Shaikh is presiding. The complainant voices his grievances and the respondent is called to offer his version. A copy of the Quran is available close at hand so that in case of conflicting stances, either party can be called to testify on oath. After a considered hearing, Shaikh pronounces his verdict. Welcome to Sanghar’s newest ‘judicial’ forum.
It could only have happened in Sanghar. Tradition has long favoured panchayats in the area. This is perhaps the reason why even the political and spiritual Sindhi leader Pir Pagara has not opposed the arrangement. Besides, the sanctity of the judicial office has never meant much in the area. In 1973, Sanghar won the dubious distinction of being the only district where the district and sessions judge was handcuffed and paraded on the streets. On the orders of then district magistrate Imdadullah Unar, the sessions judge was ‘punished’ for awarding bail to anti-PPP, anti-Zulfikar Ali Bhutto supporters of Pir Pagara. The present arrangement has, however, created a furore in certain circles in Sanghar. Zila nazim Roshandin Junejo, for example, resents the DPO for assuming the functions which were the sole preserve of the local wadera at his autaq (drawing room).
Ordeal of Owais’ family continues
No headway in Gadap murder case
Investigations into the murder of minors Hajra and Sassui are going as well as may be expected where the principal accused are policemen. In the month since the March murders, investigating officer SSP Mir Zubair has found “no new leads” but has unearthed evidence which exonerates his friends in uniform.
“The possibility that someone other than the police is involved has been present from day one,” insists Zubair. According to him, the “speculation” regarding police involvement is negated by his findings. “First, these accusations are based on attributed – rather than specific – evidence and statements. This means that no one actually saw the girls being kidnapped and murdered. The FIR was thus lodged on the basis of circumstantial rather than documented evidence,” claims Zubair. Legal experts, however, rubbish Zubair’s assertions. “What difference does this make?” snorts a lawyer. “Did he really expect the bereaved family to go and hunt down the murderers themselves, collect the necessary evidence and then serve it up to the police? In that case, what is he being paid for?” she asks. The FIR is filed so that legal investigation into a case can begin, she continues. “You can file an FIR based even on hearsay. It is not necessary to have first-hand knowledge of the facts.” Even the facts that Zubair cites as evidence of the policemen’s innocence seem doctored.
underworld pressures
Over the last two years, more than 80 political activists, party leaders and government officials have been gunned down in Karachi. Of these, 42 belonged to the Muttahida Qaumi Movement (MQM). With the Muttahida’s rise to power following the October 2002 elections, the bloody feud between the MQM and its arch rivals, the Haqiqis, was expected to abate and the city settle down. However, there appears to be no let up and what is even more alarming is the fact that despite being in power, the MQM continues to be on the receiving end. “For long, the MQM has accused the Haqiqis of using the rangers and other law enforcement agencies to gun down its activists,” says one analyst. “But the Haqiqi no longer enjoys the protection that it once did and all the law enforcement agencies in Sindh are now in the MQM’s direct control.
That weapon called lota, again
A new PPP is in the making as the establishment hopes that it will do to Benazir Bhutto what the PMLQ did to Nawaz Sharif.
From the dissolution of its governments to the hanging of one leader and the self-exile of another, the PPP has survived many ups and downs since its inception. But perhaps none of these have posed the kind of a threat that the party faces now in the shape of defections that have occurred consistently since the October 2002 general elections. On March 10, three PPP MPAs in the Punjab – Dr Mohammad Afzal, Chaudhry Shoaib Karim and Sardar Khalid Mehmood – resigned from the party, causing a major dent in the PPP’s representation from southern Punjab. A day earlier, a die-hard Bhutto follower and the PPP president for Rahim Yar Khan district, Zafar Iqbal Warraich, had resigned from the National Assembly. Political observers are of the opinion that this series of defections had actually been engineered over a long period of time, starting immediately after the general elections in October 2002. The process started in November 2002, when as many as 21 members of the national and provincial assemblies elected on PPP tickets were made to abandon the party and launch their own faction by the name of Patriots. In desperate need of their support, those who midwifed the Jamali government even kept the anti-defection clause of the Political Parties Act suspended to prevent the Patriots from being unseated. In the end, they were rewarded both with choice ministries as well as a sudden and total freeze on the accountability cases pending against some of them. Many believed that Jamali’s success in securing a vote of confidence with the Patriots’ help would put an end to the defection drama. But Zafar Iqbal Warraich’s defection, coming at a time when the Jamali government was in no real need of extra support in the Parliament, points to a whole new ball game. “In the first phase, the establishment had manoeuvred defections through blatant bribery and offers of coveted cabinet slots, which prevented the PPP from making a government in the centre. In the second phase, the establishment is forcing more defections because it does not want the PPP to become the opposition and alternative government,” was how party chairperson Benazir Bhutto responded to Warraich’s resignation. Pakistan-based analysts, however, describe Bhutto’s response as superficial and indicative of her disconnect with contemporary political reality. They point out that Warraich’s resignation is indicative of a determined move by the establishment to permanently divide the party into two factions: one swearing by Bhutto and the other loyal to the establishment. “They want to repeat with the PPP what they did with the Nawaz League,” says one political observer.
Martial Indiscretions
If the military were to lead Pakistan by example in matters of governance and transparency, as President Musharraf promised in 2001, the government would do well not to touch that example with a ten-yard pole. The auditor general’s report for the financial year 2001-02, released on March 24, puts the amount of taxpayers’ money misused, mismanaged and misappropriated by none other than the defence forces of Pakistan themselves at a whopping 40 billion plus rupees. And the actual figure may run much higher. A major portion of the budget relating to defence procurement has not been audited as the report only covers the irregularities in the accounts of the defence services, the controllers accounts and the cantonment boards. Still, it documents the fast emerging corporate culture in the armed forces by accounting for the 23 billion rupees spent on avoidable land management in the form of the construction of golf courses, the Askari Housing Scheme, the Bahria Complex, Army Public Schools, petrol and CNG pumps and the conversion of military land into commercial outlets. As such, the report details the unauthorised use of A-1 military land and criticises the weak internal audit system used by the armed forces.
Ijaz Husain Batalvi 1923 – 2004
When you are on your feet in court, he once told me, it is like playing a game of ping-pong. Knowing the answers to all the questions is not enough. Rather, it is putting them across at the appropriate time that carries the day. You should always test out your arguments from every conceivable angle and only put them forward after you are convinced of their merit. No member of any bench before whom Ijaz Husain Batalvi argued his cases would ever refute the claim that he was true to his word. But then Batalvi was no ordinary lawyer.
I became a fan of his way back in my young days much before I decided to join the legal profession. Every day before going to school, I would scan the newspapers for reports of Syed Ali Nawaz Gardezi vs Colonel Yousuf and Christa Renate and marvel at the ingenuity of Batalvi’s legal arguments. In fact, I don’t think anyone of my generation escaped the spell that he cast with his legal expertise. Despite my growing admiration and respect for Batalvi, I did not have the honour and privilege of meeting him until the summer of 1972 when he came to call on Barrister M. Anwar and his family in London. As luck would have it, I happened to be there. My host introduced me to a smart, sophisticated and eloquent man with an excellent sense of humour, and his lovely wife. That evening, I realised that Batalvi was more charming than I had ever imagined.
“In the short-term, Iran will move towards an increasingly despotic government and one man rule”— Dr Abbas Milani, Stanford University
Dr Abbas Milani, currently a visiting professor of political science at Stanford University, California, has written and published extensively on Iran’s encounter with modernity. His books include The Persian Sphinx: Amir Abbas Hoveyda and the Riddle of the Iranian Revolution; Tales of Two Cities: A Persian Memoir; Lost Wisdom: Rethinking Modernity in Iran and a translation of King of the Benighted, a novella by Houshang Golshiri. At present, he is writing the biography of the last Shah of Iran, the late Reza Shah Pehlavi.
Milani studied at the University of California, Berkeley, and later taught at the Tehran University for several years. He was arrested in 1976 by SAVAK, the Shah’s secret police, and accused of political activities against the regime. After a year in prison, he was not allowed to return to the university until the Islamic revolution of 1979. About a year-and-a-half later, the revolutionary regime in Iran “purged” the faculty of elements suspected of signing petitions against the regime. Dr Milani was among the 40-odd professors to be suspended for a year. Unable to settle down with the Iranian clergy, Dr Milani left Iran in 1986 to take up the chair of history and political science at the Notre Dame de Namur University which he holds to this day. In this interview with the Herald, he talks about the recent Iranian elections, the power relation between the president and the clergy and the future of the US-Iran relationship.
Gates, guts and (and some cricket, too)
No one could have anticipated the goodwill generated by the current cricket series between India and Pakistan.
The 50-odd kilometres between Lahore and Amritsar is no great distance to begin with. It shrinks further when one takes into account a common language, similar architecture and the fact that till recently, the two cities were in the same province. In reality, though, they seem to be light years apart and nothing symbolises this distance more than the two gates and a mile-long heavily guarded customs checkpoint along the Wagah-Atari border. On Sunday March 21, the gates were opened and a wave of blue tore across the border to carry the Indian flag at the fourth ODI at Lahore’s breathtaking Gaddafi Stadium. They were 2,000-strong, according to official reports but could well have been more given that over 8,000 visas were issued to cricket fans wishing to visit Lahore. Back in the city, the men in blue were not received as Indians but as cricket lovers with identifiable names and faces that were as eager to discuss cricket and chat with their Punjabi ‘ilk’ in hotel lobbies and cafés as their local counterparts. As the afternoon wore on, they made their way to the Gaddafi Stadium for the fourth game of the five match ODI series. It was a Sunday and the city had nothing better to do than to sit back and enjoy the game that seems to dominate life in these two countries. And what a game it was. A valiant run chase by Rahul Dravid and Mohammad Kaif saw India home to set up a thrilling finale. Sitting in the stands, it seemed the match was being played at a neutral venue: a dancing Pakistani, waving the green and white flag, would be followed by an equally jubilant Indian performing his customary celebratory lap. And when it was time to head home, there were no groans in anticipation of a long journey to another country. The 50 kilometres or so to Amritsar are what an ordinary commuter would do on a regular working day in a city such as Karachi or Mumbai. Most visitors had come for the one match.
The final failure
As it turned out, the final was a comparatively simple affair for India. VVS Laxman finally came to the party scoring a characteristically elegant 100 with every Indian batsman except for Dravid making gutsy contributions.
Three years and counting
Each year the escalating paranoia surrounding school admissions in Karachi serves as a stark reminder of a flailing, if not outright failing, private school system. A shifting paradigm now has parents vying for schools that can prepare their children for an increasingly competitive international market. Although Karachi boasts approximately 3,700 registered private schools and officials in the education department estimate that there are 10,000 privately-run unregistered schools in the city, parents deem a select few institutions capable of training their children to meet global standards. Consequently, parents are becoming more agressive, even irrational, in their attempts to secure admission for their children at schools they perceive to be effective breeding grounds. Pre-schoolers applying to the nursery sections of private schools are the latest victims in the crossfire between specious parental expectations and the schools’ limited ability to accommodate new demands. It all starts when the child is born. Parents are under pressure to choose the right pre-school that will in turn maximise a child’s chances of being accepted into a prestigious institution such as the Karachi Grammar School (KGS) or Bay View Academy. No matter that the validity of a school is often judged on criteria as feeble as the intonation and accent of English-medium instruction. Once admissions are open, parents submissively queue up, overnight if necessary, outside schools such as KGS and Bay View Academy that limit the number of admission forms they distribute. An increased vigilance of montessori training tactics and frantic phone calls to compare children’s aptitudes are indicators of the growing parental frenzy regarding the admissions proceedings. Unfortunately, it doesn't end there.
Border Hopes
Mohammad Rahemoon is a retired Pakistan Railways employee who was born – and has lived his entire life – in Khokhrapar, the last Pakistani town on the border with India’s Rajasthan province. He remembers Partition and all the good and bad times that have followed. From a bustling railway town in 1947 to a remote human settlement lost in the sand dunes of the Thar desert, Khokhrapar seems to have travelled backwards in history. And so has Rahemoon. “Although I worked for the railways from 1958 to 1984 and had many chances to move to larger cities, I preferred to stay on in Khokhrapar,” he says. Now he hopes that the proposal to reopen the Khokhrapar border route would bring back some of its lost glory. Originally a small railway stop on the route connecting Karachi with Mumbai, Khokhrapar became an extremely busy place in 1947 when it found itself sitting right next to a newly drawn international border between India and Pakistan. “Hundreds of migrating families passed through here to reach cities in the interior of Sindh,” he recalls. “The railway station was small and crowds used to spill from the platform into the town’s various travellers’ inns. There was life all around.” At the time, Khokhrapar was the first stop of Muslim migrants fleeing India. Most of these people just stayed overnight before moving on to the interior of the new country – especially to Mirpurkhas. Others hung around for longer. This meant that the railway station and the few odd streets of Khokhrapar town were crawling with people, giving a boost to local commercial activity. This went on until 1965, when the India-Pakistan war resulted in the closure of the route. Each of the two countries uprooted 28 feet of the rail tracks on each side to effect the closure. The last train passed through the town on September 5, 1965, a day before the start of the war. Over the next 40 years, the attraction, importance and utility of this town has faded completely. Today, it stands many worlds away from Munabao, a similar town just 15 kilometres down the rail track on the Indian side. The border, some eight kilometres east of Khokhrapar, has been wire-fenced by the Indians since the late 1980s and topped with floodlights that shine onto the Pakistani side at night to keep trespassers away. Meanwhile, the forlorn structure of the town’s railway station stands in curious relevance to the barren landscape of the Thar desert. Mercifully, the inhospitable surroundings of Thar have not encroached upon Khokhrapar completely, probably due to its importance as a military town which it has become since Partition. In contrast with the surrounding villages, Khokhrapar has electricity and water runs in its taps for an hour each day, thanks to the Pakistan Army that manages the water supply.
Inheriting history
The only progeny of Ruttie and Mohammed Ali Jinnah, she has always shunned the trappings of a public life. Acutely reclusive and reticent, her famous retort to her father’s prominent biographer Stanley Wolpert’s request for an interview – “Why so much interest in my father’s life, after all these years?” – speaks of the extent to which she has gone to force the memories of her father’s politics from her mind. She subsequently cancelled the appointment with Wolpert and is known to have given only one interview in her life which was shown on BBC in 1997. The interview was included in the documentary, Jinnah – the making of a nation, where she spoke briefly about her father and expressed tremendous admiration for what he was able to achieve. |