Looking back, one comes across little joy in the years of military rule or military-civil partnership except in one area: cleanliness. The men dressed in khaki made sure that civilian urban centres were (almost) as spic and span as cantonments. But this emphasis never survived the army’s exit from administration as an institution, even when a general remained in power.
Flies and mosquitoes were eliminated by a thoughtfully devised strategy; civic responsibilities were fulfilled with a sense of commitment by military regimes of the past. But this happened only during periods when Pakistan was under martial law. Insects of all varieties surfaced and other conditions reverted to the same level when the army vacated the administrative arena. Ayub Khan was presumably hailed more for his determination to sweep the country clean and ensure the installation of gauze covers around the butcher’s shops and other outlets for eatables, than as a friendly master of the people of Pakistan. One should not be surprised if his colleagues urged him to promote himself as Field Marshal on the strength of his campaign against garbage than for distinction in the battlefield.
A diligent researcher may succeed in digging up evidence on this score in some moth-eaten files in the government’s archives, provided such an office exists and the authorities are willing to make ‘secret documents’ public after the specific security period is over. Ayub Khan’s role as conqueror of flies, mosquitoes and other subversive insects needs to be seriously studied. Hopefully, some university would identify the subject for doctorate in social sciences.
Yahya Khan did not get a proper opportunity to make his impact in this sphere of national life, and had to be content with dismemberment of the country — no small achievement, regardless of what his detractors and historians say. This, indeed, was also a significant cleanliness drive. He may have proved himself a great environmentalist if events had not curtailed the period of his rule as Chief Martial Law Administrator. For the fact that he was deprived of a chance to get streets cleaned and garbage dumps removed, there can only be sympathy for the general who is generally remembered for the wrong reasons.
Ziaul Haq was not unmindful of the prevailing state of affairs in Pakistan, but loftier ends, such as the purification of the people’s souls, inspired him more. His life was dedicated to pursuing spiritual bliss for the masses, for creating committed crusaders, waging a war against unreligious practices and elements, and leading a jihad against infidels.
He may have caught a glimpse of their future — declared and condemned as terrorists, in his bowl of religious crystal, and tried to avert the decision of the kings of international rings. He got bumped off in a mid-air explosion of his plane as wages for attempting to deviate from the prescribed path and could not complete his mission of cleaning the souls of the populace that had been dirtied by politicians. His untimely exit disallowed the great reformer and redeemer of the people to achieve the goal of hanging on to power for another couple of years. But then, you cannot hang everything in a lifetime.
Gen Zia’s contribution has another context. That would be discussed later. The theme here is military-civil partnership for streamlining and effectively maintaining civic life at a civil level. The civilians seem to have learnt much from past experiences, developed the necessary expertise and recently demonstrated skills in the mould of the military’s method of management of certain affairs. They delivered a remarkably efficient job in Lahore the day after Eid-ul-Azha, and must be commended on their performance.
Skins, intestines, offals and other parts of sacrificed animals littering the city and makeshift processing of trotters in earthen ovens installed by the roadside are a yearly affair. These are familiar sights after Eid-ul-Azha and remain on view for a while. Nature takes its toll after that; the refuse is cleared in time. No one likes this. People, however, realize that protest would lead them nowhere. In any case, many citizens do not take offence to unhygienic conditions, as they form an integral component of their daily lives.
Many citizens have also developed immunity against unhealthy surroundings. Their thick skin enables them to silently suffer maltreatment. Fatalism runs in their veins in place of blood. Gen Zia’s rule further augmented their faith in what will be, will be. As such, the leftovers of sacrificed animals never really disturbs anyone, certainly not to the extent of agitating for its instant removal.
No one expected civic authorities to start cracking and immediately rendering the service for which they are created. But wonder of wonders, Lahore was restored to its previous state in no time after Eid. This sort of thing happens only under martial-law governments. Attitude change in civil administration is apparently the outcome of the latest military-civil partnership. Few had thought that the system now in position would deliver, but the age of miracles is obviously not over. The work of the Solid Waste Management organization has been commendable. One would, however, request the administration that, having accomplished a major task, it should attend to a new eyesore at one intersection on the canal, regarded as the jewel in Lahore’s crown.
Bhal safai of the canal was carried out some weeks back. Its dry bed revealed how some of the locals treat what should be their pride: it had been filled with all kinds of garbage. The cleaning of the bed was effectively done, but whatever was extricated, was placed in small heaps on the canal’s banks. Most of these dumps have again disappeared in the canal, but the biggest one remains at one corner of a bridge. It is an approximately 10-foot high mound with a wide circumference. Its size is shrinking by the day — another case of disposal by natural means. But that would take longer, while this silt and refuse mix of about two truckloads can be more quickly removed. That involves a risk because local garbage-carrying vehicles are not covered and they tend to distribute their contents enroute to their destination. However, as the trucks keep doing that day after day, there is no harm in harnessing them for the disposal of another ugly collection also.
Gen Zia educated the masses in another discipline in matters of both religion and military-civil partnership; he did so by example, by leading, as the expression goes, from the front. The plan was the same for both counts: maintain a facade. He hit the bull’s eye. It is another matter that the bull’s eye was the people and the country of Pakistan.
Zia made his exit in 1988. But his impact has lasted till today and seems set to remain the guiding star for Pakistan’s life in many ways and for quite some time to come. The policy of facade has been almost perfected by now. The few flaws it still has are certain to be erased in the coming years. What the leadership needs is determination and the nation, an attitude of utter submission. The leadership is not wanting in requisite qualities; the populace has reached the point where it is convinced of its helplessness.
Perhaps, they have reached this stage not because of perennial political changes that keep bringing things back to the previous square, but by following the fate of sacrificial animals. They know that they — people, not animals — are meant for sacrifice for ambitions and misconceived sense of destiny. But the authorities should explain their philosophy to the people and also inform them that, in the game of facades, the fitness of animals, or human beings for sacrifice is not a consideration. Even handicapped beings can be put on the chopping block.
Looking back, one comes across little joy in the years of military rule or military-civil partnership except in one area: cleanliness. The men dressed in khaki made sure that civilian urban centres were (almost) as spic and span as cantonments. But this emphasis never survived the army’s exit from administration as an institution, even when a general remained in power.
