Fall From Grace

MARCH 2003 - On a balmy spring afternoon just as the regulars were about to tee off across the lush greens that the Peshawar Golf Club is famous for, there was a great commotion and club officials were seen scurrying to and fro. The scent of a VIP was in the air and soon enough the vision materialized in the form of the cricket general. As fawning, groveling and obsequious petty officials bent this way and that escorting the VIP to tee off, a liveried waiter from the club materialized silently like Jeeves, bearing a sparkling silver tray upon which were placed shiny new golf balls and tees. The ceremonial tray was presented as everyone held their breath. The VIP selected what his heart desired. Had they been given half an opportunity, the officials would have gladly pushed the tee in with their teeth, but sadly the VIP decided to do this chore himself. He swung his club on the unsuspecting white ball, in a shot that someone later described as a wild cross between a baseball swipe and a cricket heave. The circus moved on at a brisk pace.

VIPs have been with us ever since the clock struck one minute past midnight on that unforgettable summer night in 1947, but they really came into their own as soon as Mr. Jinnah had been lowered into a grave – along with the dream that was Pakistan but about that we were quite innocent at the time. Since then, the VIPs have gathered power and momentum. No government, authority or force can resist them. They may change shape and form but intrinsically they remain strong and self-focused. In starched khakis, western lounge suits, commando outfits, penguin dresses, sherwanis and nomadic tribal outfits with elaborate headgear or in radiating colours and hues of parrot greens as the lady of the east who lives in the west used to popularize, the VIPs have been alive and kicking butt. Some of us luck out as temporary VIPs when parting with a red Quaid-e-Azam and a Club class ticket, enables us to savour the joys of VIPism. Servile attendants hurry to collect our brief cases, others secure our tickets and obtain boarding cards in a jiffy while we sink into VIP sofas and sip VIP tea with VIP sandwiches. Cocooned in luxury, we remain calm and indolent as flights are announced. We board last, taking, not the plebian bus but the VIP coaster to the big airplane. What a life, what a high!

There is a civilian government in the country – so the rumours go though I don’t believe it for a minute and apparently there is a national assembly of sorts though how national it is and why it assembles is not known. There is also a prime minister who has redefined shape and space and some provincial assembling is evident where trivia reigns supreme and quorum shortage is common. The spring of civilian rule, rumours claim, has arrived in Islamabad, the city of perpetual sunshine and temporary integrity. It is therefore a bit perplexing to learn that of the four provinces we have, three are still ‘governed’ by army generals. The lone exception – no not the lone ranger, is in Sindh where the Gov is a party man through and through. This is the party that perfected the art of speed drilling on uncooperative witnesses some years back and now thrives on long distance phone calls. That the Gov by virtue of being a card carrying member of a political party has his impartiality shred to bits is a thought that has so far not crossed the minds of those who live in Islamabad perpetually high on the natural marijuana that grows there in abundance – a Zionist plot if ever I saw one. Elsewhere, things are a little more tricky.

There is the Punjab Governor who showed us many new personalities whilst campaigning for the President’s famous referendum hit parade. He rolled up his sleeves, opened his shirt buttons and hollered and yelled on microphones at large public rallies while the obliging police force beat journalists and lathi charged them to smithereens. Long after Mr. Jamali – I think he is the Prime Minister, took oath to serve the people (much like the Cannibal chief who wrote a runaway best seller, ‘101 ways to serve humanity’), the three Governors have stayed firmly put. The Balochistan Governor was a serving Corps Commander a day before he was ‘retired’ and hey presto, the new Governor the next day. It was like a one-day fixture, over before you know it. And the Frontier Governor, a retired general like his counterpart in Lahore is as much a permanent fixture in Peshawar as the Bala Hisar fort. The MMA may be a powerful force but even they know where to draw the line – yes it is true they can draw a line. Stories about them rubbing stones to make fires are greatly exaggerated. Driving past the stately Governor House in Peshawar last month – and it is a long drive because the House just doesn’t end, I was struck by the sheer magnificence of the estate built by my colonial masters. And our masters are still here, in all their splendour. In a subtle touch of irony, the royal estate stands right smack in front of a saint’s last resting place, a mazar of sorts of a man who must have led a simple and exemplary life completely free of the fancy trimmings of life. That he and the resplendent Frontier Governor share the same spot must be hard on Pir sahib. May his soul rest in peace. In our quest for Kashmir, we have again placed a retired general instantly to head the presidency in Azad Kashmir caring two hoots for the implications.

There used to be a constitution though out of respect for its various defenders we no longer use the capital ‘C’ for it any more. While the good President Musharraf has amended most of it under his Legal Framework Order of 2002 though it hardly matters that it is neither legal, nor has any framework but only an order, one part of the 1973 constitution remains untouched. A person is disqualified from holding the office of governor if ‘he has been in the service of Pakistan – unless a period of two years has elapsed since he ceased to be in such service’. In the case of Gen. Abdul Qadir of Balochistan, the period was more like two days. I suppose both the other Governors and the AK President would be legally disqualified on the same grounds, but this is cuckoo talk. Who reads the constitution anyway? Other than Mr. Peerzada who is the resident ‘Jadogar of Jeddah,’ and who repeatedly appears on the national scene like the ghost of Hamlet’s father, there is probably no one who reads that document. Some say it doesn’t even exist, so the rules it contains are as relevant as winning world cups is to Pakistan.

Mr. Jinnah bless his soul, laid down the law and the tradition in his wonderful way. He appointed H.I. Rahimtoola and I.I.Chundrigar both from Sindh and Sardar Rab Nishtar from the NWFP as governors of Punjab. For NWFP, he chose Khawaja Shahabuddin from East Pakistan, Mian Aminuddin from Punjab for Balochistan and Justice Din Mohammad and Nawab Mamdot both from Punjab for Sindh!! He chose men from the civil service, the judiciary and from politics and he made sure that they would not be coloured by their preferences for their home provinces and above all were men of distinction, integrity and impartiality. What a legacy to follow and what a shame to abandon it, but that’s the way it goes in the market these days. Who said pomp and splendour is a thing of the past? In these tacky and tarnished times, who from amongst us can follow the road Mr. Jinnah showed us? No one my dear.