THE WAY IT WAS: The way it still is, I’m afraid

Mian Ijaz Ul Hassan

A strategy that claims to defend the land, but not the rights of the people, who live there, is a deception. But have we learnt anything? Even today a person who is even distantly considered a threat by the establishment is declared an Indian agent


Pakistan is the only country in the world that came into being without having a state structure. It did not have an army, it didn’t have a civil bureaucracy, and it didn’t have a central bank or any state financial institutions. It didn’t have anything except hope cherished in the hearts of the people, that Pakistan would be a panacea for all their ills, a realisation of their dreams.

The bloody events ensuing from the division of Punjab and tension with India over Kashmir made Pakistan feel vulnerable. Afghanistan our northern neighbour was the only country, which did not recognise Pakistan. This did not help to alley a sense of insecurity, which was exploited to no ends by the military and civil bureaucratic set up which, emerged after 1947.

The Quaid had envisioned a peaceful transfer of power where both countries would live in peace and harmony. What actually happened, as we all know was quite the contrary. The Quaid’s vision and peoples’ dreams of Pakistan were very soon tainted by squabbles for wealth and power. It was argued that a strong centre was needed in order to strengthen Pakistan’s integrity and security. The Federal Government insisted that in order to strengthen the Federal State structure it was necessary that the provinces should surrender their share of funds and resources to the centre. The people were badgered into believing that since the national security was at stake they must surrender the money needed for health, education and social welfare to build a strong defence system.

Surely, this may have seemed to make sense in 1947, but soon, the people of smaller federating units realised that the argument was a deception to usurp their legitimate political and economic rights.

By the 1950s it had become abundantly clear and obvious that the corrupt civil and military bureaucracy with the help of certain politicians had taken over the state, on a plea to protect national integrity and sovereignty, which apparently was in great danger. A strong centre and national security were the key words. Those who tried to bargain for social or economic welfare of the people were branded as communists. Those who spoke about the rights of the Federating units were called traitors and Indian Agents. Liaquat Ali Khan went as far as to admonish the East Pakistanis by saying that, as we were all Muslims, we should not talk of regional issues. For a good Pakistani and a good Muslim it was unpatriotic to talk of regional and class problems. As a result people and provinces suffered.

Existentially perhaps Punjab suffered the most, because the Punjabi civil and military bureaucracy considered it materially more beneficial to surrender their own particular identity. They insisted that to call one self a Punjabi, a Sindhi or a Pashtun was unpatriotic because we were all Pakistanis.

Urdu became synonymous with Islam, whereas Punjabi, Pashto, Balochi, Sindhi and Bengali languages were denigrated and dismissed for one reason or the other. Punjabi was brushed aside for being the language of the Sikhs. Languages of the various nationalities were considered lesser languages while Urdu was regarded as the only truly worthy national language. If you spoke a provincial language you were confined to the region to which you belonged but if you spoke Urdu you had the power and the justification to rule over all territories of the country. Nothing could suit better, the Urdu- Punjabi elite’s objectives of establishing their suzerainty over the entire country. Urdu was no one’s mother tongue in the regions, which constituted Pakistan. More than half the population of the entire country spoke Bengali. Why give Urdu a divine status? Why equate Urdu with Islam and Pakistani nationalism and deny languages which most indigenous Pakistani people spoke an equal patriotic and literary status?

All the so-called regional languages have a long history, a much longer history than Urdu. Baba Ghulam Fareed of Shakarganj was a 12th century Punjabi poet. The Punjabis should be eternally grateful to Guru Nanak, who laboured to collect Fareed’s verses and included them in the “Adi Garanth”, the Sikh holy book; otherwise they may have been lost to us forever. Punjabi had by Fareed’s times in the 12th century evolved to a level that his verse is popular to a large audience even today. Chaucer who is regarded as father of English verse in comparison with Fareed was a 14th century poet. When I read the “Canterbury Tales” for the first time, it was a translation in modern English. 14th century English had yet to wade through “The Faerie Queene” and “Hamlet” before English could arrive at a closer proximity to our comprehension of it.

I cannot here resist mentioning what a Federal Joint Secretary Education and Culture opined on the subject of “provincial” languages. It was during Ziaul Haq’s times that some of us got together and decided to establish The Crafts Council of Pakistan. In one of its meetings which was also attended by the aforementioned Federal JS it was proposed that in order to promote and popularise our national crafts, all the provincial Crafts Councils should publish newsletters. The learned Federal secretary thought it an excellent idea, but added that since Punjab didn’t have a proper language, it would necessarily have to publish its newsletter in Urdu. I was so stunned by the remark that I just stared at him silently in absolute amazement. The purpose of this rather lengthy aside is not to give vent to Punjabi chauvinism. The purpose is not to denigrate any language but to resist the employment of a language as an instrument of power or oppression.

The British very cleverly employed English as an instrument of power to rule over its colonies. A “Desi” not armed with English could not imagine rising to anywhere. Which unfortunately is true even now. Similarly Urdu till recently was employed as an instrument of power by the Urdu-Punjabi establishment to rule over the federating Provinces. In order to suppress the distinct ethnic and cultural identities, the people of two of its colonies/ provinces, namely NWFP and East Pakistan were not even permitted to assign a name to their province. We love Shakespeare and Ghalib but not at the cost of loving our Waris Shah or Shah Lateef any less.

But coming back to the matters of National Security. If we cast even a cursory glance at our tracks we should have the courage and intellectual honesty to admit that a concept of National Integrity and Security at the expense of the federating units and the people proved to disastrous. It was not a strategy but a grand deception. Let us not fool ourselves, it was a direct result of this that we lost half of our country and parted with more than half of our countrymen. Let us learn from this. Those who do not learn from history do not live to fight another day.

Let us also learn that any National Defence strategy that does not defend the Peoples’ right to live in dignity, health and hope, is a poor strategy. Nay! A strategy that claims to defend the land, but not the rights of the people, who live there, is a deception. But have we learnt anything? Even today a person who is even distantly considered a threat by the establishment is declared an Indian agent. Asma Jehangir being only one among a galaxy of citizens, who have been given one bad name or another.

I remember Zafaryab, a man of honour, who pleaded the cause of bonded child labour. He was, at the behest of the powerful carpet industry arrested and put in jail without any legal charges. But this is not the end of the story. A few weeks later, Mushahid Hussain, the Information Minister and a confidant of Nawaz Sharif was invited to address the Washington Policy Analysis Group. I am told that fifteen Pakistani professionals, who attended the meeting, asked Mushahid to have either Zafaryab released or have legal charges levelled against him. Mr Mushahid Hussain apparently excused himself by saying that he couldn’t help because Zafaryab was an Indian Agent. Apparently Mushahid was warned not be so callous because it was possible that in three months time, “we may be asked to plead your case and your successor might be making the same excuse that he was helpless because you were an Indian agent.” Strangely enough this is exactly what happened three months later. Mushahid was arrested and his brother contacted the Washington-based Pakistani intellectuals and pleaded with them to start a movement for his release. Do people ever learn? I suppose that ultimately they will. In my life span I’m afraid, the way it was, is the way it still is.

Prof Ijaz-ul-Hassan is Pakistan’s leading painter. He is a teacher, art critic and political activist. He was awarded the “President’s Pride of Performance” in 1992. He is currently the president of the PPP Punjab’s Policy Planning Committee and Chairman of the party’s Manifesto Committee