Everyone knows that the mistakes of the recent past should not be repeated in the days ahead. But has anybody told this to the new PCB chief ?
CHANGES in top management are always interesting for a variety of reasons, not least of them the element of curiosity. The change at the top in PCB brings in an extra dimension of suspense, for the policies of a long-time soldier are about to be overseen and reviewed by a seasoned bureaucrat. But before he does too much research on policy initiatives over the past four years, it would be better to study the man he is taking over from and learn from both his contribution and his mistakes.
So who really was Tauqir Zia? It is not very often that one man tries so hard to do well and does so wrong. It is even rarer that with every misjudgment, he gains in self-confidence. Or that he confuses the increase in boldness for enrichment in his wisdom.
Tauqir Zia, nevertheless, was that rarity among leaders. He was a man who wanted to win the war with the charisma of a Churchill but lost it with the blundering policies of a Mussolini.
It is discomforting that the man who stood by his country so loyally when the ICC weighed down with match-fixing warrants and supported our top players with a chest-forward attitude, was left with hardly a lieutenant near the end of his battle to empathise with his master plan for Pakistan cricket.
People accuse him of giving in to senior players since early 2001 which is when he should have rebuilt but all he gave them was the benefit of doubt which they commanded, at least at the time. It was the honourable thing to do for professionals who had served the country magnificently on the field on countless occasions.
It is poignant that the man who during his four years completed a judicial enquiry, stood up for Pakistani cricketers in the ICC, developed and spread cricket across the country, built a cricket academy that has forever ensured scientific coaching, raised the financial remunerations of the cricketers, blessed them with financial rewards at every opportunity, brought back international cricket to Pakistan, has walked away with hardly anyone of significance wanting him to stay back.
Also, it is ironic that after ruling over the worst result in Pakistan’s cricket history earlier this year and still surviving with head up, he has left with shoulders sagged after the team has won everything in sight. From a first round exit in the World Cup, they have risen to third position in Test rankings and seeded third in next year’s Champions Trophy. Yet the chief has gone.
So what went wrong? For all intents and purposes I think he lost the forest for the trees. He tried to take in the success of the cricketers when his main task was overseeing merit, justice and adherence to rules. His job was off the field management but he chose to dive into selection and team management issues. It can be said that everytime the team won it was not because of him but in spite of him.
He seemed a man adrift, knowing not his priorities. He never masterminded the broader vision that a chairman must have and felt comfortable with actions that were easier to take. When even they went haywire, he fired somebody while claiming that “The buck stops here.”
I believe it was so because he neither comprehended his role nor the art of man management. Nor, for that matter, human or organizational behaviour. He also went for desperate acts of survival that exposed his intentions, like his internal enquiry of the World Cup performance through PCB executives headed by a retired colonel who couldn’t possibly hold a serving general responsible.
He was a man of contradictions from the start. He announced in 2000 that Moin Khan was the captain till the 2003 World Cup and then sacked him in early 2001. He twice placed Miandad as coach and both times fired him only to believe to this day that he is the best choice for coach.
In an interview, within weeks of taking over, he stressed the importance of continuity at the top. But after three years Rameez was the last man standing from an advisory council of five. He parted ways with matured and sincere men like Nasim-ul-Ghani, Abid Kazi and Yawar Saeed and backed men with far lesser credentials. It made even amicable men like Rameez and Haroon uncomfortable in the environment. Yes, one of his biggest shortcomings was willingly dispensing with a few good men for the usual suspects.
In the four years there were four directors, six captains, three coaches (in six instalments), and if I am not mistaken, five team managers with one having two stints. In the five months alone leading up to the World Cup, there were three managers and two different coaches added to which were a batting and bowling coach for a few weeks.
He said he had agreed to take back his resignation last October because he wanted to rebuild Pakistan cricket, but left a year later citing family priorities. At the marketing launch of the New Zealand rubber on 23rd November he announced that he had no intentions of stepping down and then insisted on December 1 that he had resigned on the 26th, claiming that four years is a long term.
He said he had a vision but appeared a man not in control of what he wanted to say. He was and should always be remembered as a soldier who has to take everything on the chin. Yet in his farewell speech, he said he had lived through 38 years of tension in the military and thereby claimed that he couldn’t take four years of tension in cricket. So what is so unique about tension in the army that is not there for an executive in any other organization? Mr Dalmiya seems not to be bothered by tension in sports management. Neither do the other professional managers of other cricket boards let it bother them.
His administration was criticized for having 33 Test players in the four years, but he actually prided himself on it. Funny enough, from among Sami, Younis Khan, Danish Kaneria, Yasir Hameed, Shabbir Ahmed, Usman Gul and Imran Farhat, he could think of only Yasir Ali as an example of new entrants when it was the most glaring example of senseless selection. Was it that he was taking the opportunity to hint that it wasn’t just Junaid who had been blessed by the selectors?
He was so out of touch with the essence of his work that he expressed surprise at the criticisms at him by claiming that his staff’s “only problem (was) lack of coordination.” What else is a leader there for?
This was certainly no rehearsed farewell.
As a person he nevertheless remained a soft-spoken general who was forever courteous. Those who worked with him claimed he gave them complete respect and felt for their needs. In some conversations one could feel clearly that he sincerely yearned to leave behind a legacy. Some criticise him for riding on the ideas of others but a leader seeks new thoughts, doesn’t he? And if he did what anyone could do, then how come no one before him established an academy and implemented the infrastructural development?
Perhaps he took on needless burdens, like fist-fights with KCCA and women’s cricket that do have problems but should be left to themselves to solve. But to his credit goes the pay structure of the cricketers that is at parallel with other countries and also the beginnings of a contract system. And while he let go people left and right, he was loyal to those who showed the will and determination to stay, like Shoaib Akhtar and Waqar Younis, two people he had the guts to back against all criticism.
It would be fair to forgive him the support of his son. Tell me of one father in this world who will not be tempted, for the love of his child, to help his ward any way he can! Not everyone is Dr Jehangir Khan (who resigned as Chief Selector when son Majid’s name was shortlisted). Remember, Imran admitted in his biography that it was because of Burki and Majid’s backing that he made the selection for the 1971 tour. And he didn’t even have a run-up at the time. Who knows what Junaid could have become given time and may still do? The general can be faulted for his haste and lack of tact, but let’s leave his son out of this.
What is more pertinent is that the curtain has fallen and the bow taken. How will he be remembered? After all is said and done he can perhaps be best defined by the title of the eternal poem: Tinker, Tailor, Soldier, Sailor. For he was the soldier who tinkered with delicate threads and could not tailor back the stitching. In the end he was the lone sailor riding flotsam on the high seas, headed for the perfect storm.
Sheheryar Khan has now come to the shore with his hand waving. It is up to the guilty and the innocent how they read his hand: one of greeting or one of promise. I can only say that the grave diggers at Gaddafi Stadium would certainly be nervous of their buried secrets considering their new chairman is the man who has recently authored The Shallow Graves of Rwanda.