We must somehow learn to laugh at ourselves, at our petty foibles, our comic weaknesses, habits and errors. To be able to do so, to shrug off complexes that make us take every single thing so seriously, is one of the first signs of maturity and self-confidence.

Ayub Khan, President and General, and later President and Field Marshal, was a handsome man with a twinkle in his eye. There is an old and famous story, possibly apocryphal, about him that is applicable to the present season. From the very beginning of its life, the learned men of the book who guide the morals of this nation have been unable to reach an agreement on the planet moon and its appearance and placing in the night sky. Each first of Ramzan and each Id have been hotly disputed, with the divines of one area of the country sighting the moon on one evening and others not spotting it at all. One year, early in his regime, Ayub decided enough was enough. He was tired of double or triple Ids being celebrated, tired of the inability of the holy men to decide in unison. He gave orders that the moon-experts in all areas of the country would be instructed by his military commanders that they would, in complete unison, 'sight' the moon on one evening, so that for once in its life the entire nation would celebrate Id on the same day.

Sure enough, from Karachi to Peshawar the divines spotted the moon on the announced evening. However, up in Quetta, Maulvi Tabassum declared that he had not sighted the moon, and that the Faithful would continue to fast the following day. As the story goes, a furious Ayub, ordered the GOC commanding the Division in Quetta to ensure that the maulvi did see the moon.

The General sent for the stubborn maulvi, turned his head heavenwards, and asked 'Maulvi Sahib, chand dekha?.' 'Nahi dekha' said the resolute man. The General then turned him around 180 degrees, told him to peer downwards, and asked 'West Camp dekha?' 'Dekha,' murmured the learned man. 'Good,' said the General, and asked him to look upwards. 'Abb chand dekha ?' 'Dekha, dekha,' said a nervous maulvi, and thus was Id celebrated the next day in Quetta and the entire country.

On to Zia-ul-Haq, General and President. As with many military men, Zia was highly flattered and pleased with himself when our academic institutions, as is their sycophantic wont, insisted on conferring honorary degrees upon those who reach the top slot. He rather fancied himself when wearing a mortar-board with a gold braided gown over his cavalry uniform.

In 1986, Zia visited Thailand and knowing how enamoured he was with academic honours, his aides and advisors got to work. The Bureaucratic Bunglers of Bangkok joined them. What actually transpired was rather funny. I wrote a letter to the editor of this newspaper which was printed in June that year :

"Thammasat, the University of Moral and Political Sciences of Thailand, for reasons it does not have to explain, refused to confer a doctorate upon General Zia, during his recent state visit to that old cultured country. As a sop, the smaller University of Chulalangkorn was forced to oblige. The programming civil servants and diplomats of both countries - Pakistan and Thailand - stand answerable for this avoidable disfavour done to our head of state, to our state and thus to its people.

"Why did they all not do their homework? Had they done so they would have learnt how the Thai universities had rebuffed their own prime minister, Prem Tinsulanond. As for our men, they should certainly have remembered how Oxford reacted to the political record set by the former people's prime minister, Zulfikar Ali Bhutto, when it was announced that his old university could find no justifiable 'causa' to confer upon him a doctorate of his asking.

"Our earlier ruling dictators were less presumptious. Rangeela Raja Agha Mohammad Yayha Khan, loved life and what it had to offer and had neither the time nor the inclination to seek honorary honours. Ayub Khan did manage to obtain a doctorate from the modest campus at Kandy. Iskander Mirza was content with his rank of Major General and the many mentions in dispatches he was awarded whilst serving on our North West Frontier. Ghulam Mohammad was an accountant, steeped in finances, disinterested in the real or imaginary virtues of scholarship. Khwaja Nazimuddin, a man of noble birth, rotund but as straight as they come, was a Cambridge man who had renounced his knighthood. Lastly, the first of them all, Mohammad Ali Jinnah, whose words we are exhorted to heed day after day, on October 4 1942 replied to a letter addressed to him by Vice Chancellor Ziauddin of Aligarh:

"'While I appreciate very much indeed the spirit which has actuated the court to take this decision [conferment of an honorary degree of Doctor of Laws] I have, most reluctantly, to say that I have lived as plain Mr Jinnah and hope to die as plain Mr Jinnah. I am very much averse to any title or honour and I will be more happy if there was no prefix to my name.'

"Thammasat is to be commended for upholding its independence and its principles. But we must commiserate with Chulalongkorn (named after the great King of Siam who was tutored by Anna Leonowens, was so sufficiently enlightened that he abolished slavery and introduced many social and educational reforms) for its inability to withstand pressure. The convocation conferring the honorary doctorate upon Zia-ul-Haq was reportedly held in camera and attended by a mere 50 members of the faculty."

Soon thereafter, I was invited to a reception for the President General on one of his frequent visits to Karachi. When it came to my turn to shake hands, wily Zia, with a smile on his face, commented how much he had enjoyed reading my letter and asked me to let him have a copy of anything of interest I may write in the future.

According to his own admission, Zia read eleven national newspapers before he bedded down and scrawled remarks thereon - 'investigate', or 'more info required', or 'good', or 'shocked', or 'grieved', or even both 'shocked and grieved'. These last three remarks drastically increased over the months and years, so much so that in 1983, perturbed by the reckless maligning of our supreme leader through daily accusations that he was beset by shock and grief, and I myself grieving for the state of the nation's health, I lodged a complaint in September of that year with our newly appointed Ombudsman, seeking help and relief :

"Congratulations! Placed as you are, high in the hierarchy, I feel sure you will be able to do some good.

"Whilst doing good, we must hope you will effectively deal with the pervasive endemic sycophancy, that weapon of destruction wielded the lowly. Someone already has tried to call you God Almighty (The Muslim, September 6). A blasphemous act by any book, but you will, I suppose, forgive him.

"The complaint I make today (No.001 for identification purposes) is against the ministry of information, which I charge with overexposing our President, bringing him and his government into disrepute and upsetting the people in the process. May I suggest that you count how many times the word 'Zia' appears in the press each day and out of that total number how many times his name is headlined. A few instances : a bus tumbles into a ravine, and we read 'Zia shocked.' A 97-year old poet dies and 'Zia grieved.' An earthquake occurs in Bulgaria and 'Zia shocked.' The minister of mines in Outer Mongolia dies and 'Zia grieved.' Are we being ruled by a man perpetually either in a state of shock, or overcome by grief?"

This was followed up in November with a reminder :

"There has been no improvement. Sent herewith is the front page of the 'Morning News' (a government publication) of November 17. 'Zia' appears in five headlines and 'Zia' or 'General Zia' or 'the President' or' President Zia' or 'President General Mohammad Zia-ul-Haq' all told appear 35 times. And, whereas previously Zia was alternatively either shocked or grieved, he is now overcome by both traumatic sentiments at one and the same time. He is both 'shocked and grieved.' This is shocking news."

Ombudsman Sardar Iqbal, fortunately endowed with that rare quality, a fine sense of humour, reacted. 'But surely Mr Cowasjee, you can't be serious.' 'As serious as I can be, Ombudsman, save us !'

As a nation we are more than consistent. In the first column on the last page of yesterday's Dawn "President General Pervez Musharraf and Prime Minister Mir Zafarullah Jamali on Friday expressed deep sense of shock and grief......." We have progressed from solo to duet.

(arfc@cyber.net.pk)