Mr. Jinnah & Friends

NOVEMBER 2004 - In the context of what constitutes public life here, one can find many flattering descriptions that can sum us up, from what we were and to what intolerable levels we have plummeted down, but surely we must now rank as one of the greediest and unscrupulous lot that ever blighted the face of this planet. This dubious and tragic distinction marks just about most things we do. Leaders lie daily with a straight face and the common folk are not much better, preferring skullduggery to an honest day’s wage. Everywhere, standards continue to fall like straws in a typhoon and there seems no end to the depths to which we can go on sliding.

Last week, on a brief visit to serene Islamabad, my old friend Majid Khan or MJ as some of us prefer to call him, rattled me up no end. Had he been a bowler I would have said that he had clean bowled me, but since his great fame – and a well-deserved one from any standards, rested on his majestic stroke play, I can only add that he left me a little speechless. Somehow we ended up talking about Pakistan’s great industry – land grabbing, the one that we have been assiduously practicing ever since Mr. Jinnah decided to leave this troublesome land. In what is now a well-worn out script, everyone who is anyone – and even more importantly, every one who is no one, has simply grabbed land, made a killing, grabbed some more land, made some more killing and grabbed again. The highest in the land have done it and continue to do it. So does everyone else. It is like a divine injunction that drives everyone to distraction and injects a missionary zeal into the work at hand, which is cheating, swindling and forging any amount of documents to lay claim to what is not yours to begin with. Accountability being a word all Pakistanis loathe, there have been no criminals caught and prosecuted. Danny De Vito, in one of his funny roles, says, “misery talks and money walks.” In the Pakistan scenario, money not only walks; it jogs, it runs and it sprints. It opens all doors; it erases all opposition, wipes out all obstacles, performs limitless miracles and makes yesterday’s paupers into today’s princes. The country is full of them. This is the Pakistan Dream, make no mistake about it.

Well would you believe it, said Majid Khan, that where now great commerce flourishes day and night in the city of Lahore, the Liberty Market no less, was once agricultural land and about 80 kanals of it belonged to a man called Mohammad Ali Jinnah, whom we named Quaid-e-Azam and whose portraits adorn every office where thieving and hypocrisy flourish as never before, below his portrait so to speak. Yes, Mr. Jinnah owned the land as he did other prime properties but if you think his successors ever got a single square centimeter of what was his, legally and morally, well you have to be put to sleep. The land, all 80 kanals of it was gobbled up like Moby Dick would gobble up a canary. Not a trace of the scam and while many became rich, we successfully ended up swindling Mr. Jinnah. What chance do ordinary people have in a land where the Founder is not spared? No chance as any fool would tell you. Mr. Liaqat Ali Khan whose family owned some 40 odd squares of land in what is now the Sheikhupura area were neatly deprived of all 40 squares. A large number of people made a windfall and poor Mr. Liaqat Ali Khan’s successors were left twiddling their thumbs. In the 50s, Dr. Jahangir Khan, Majid’s late father, who had left Jullandar and came to Lahore were given evacuee property measuring about 38 kanals in what is Upper Mall now. The Lahore Improvement Trust went ahead and parceled out the land to other buyers, an action that the courts termed illegal in the 60s when Dr. Khan sought help from the courts. Between the 60s right through the late 80s, he battled on. In 1975, the courts awarded a decision in his favour and ordered the LIT to compensate him appropriately, but by this time LIT had become LDA, which took the matter to the High Court. In 1988, Dr. Jahangir died. 9 years later, the High Court upheld the verdict of the lower court and LDA started to negotiate with Majid. The inconclusive talks continue. It’s the usual story. Sometimes the judge is not around, sometimes LDA doesn’t show up, sometimes the court is closed. It is MJ’s firm opinion that his son and grandchildren will be fighting the case till doomsday arrives. Dr. Jahangir Khan was no ordinary person and while the family received some compensation, it was marginal compared to what was taken. How could the LIT/LDA sell land that was not theirs to begin with? What about the mental anguish, trauma not to mention expense of appearing in dozens of hearings, hiring lawyers, making rounds, talking, consulting and a hundred other things that people have to do when they seek justice in Pakistan’s courts? What right does any organization have to put its law-abiding citizens through such torture? There could not have been a more appropriate word for LIT than the word ‘Trust’ because it had everything but that.

There are hundreds of stories – ask anyone. A Mrs. Boga who lived in an 8 Kanal house in Zaman Park was evicted by a gang of land grabbers. She ran around for justice and ended up with Fakhar Imam who spoke to the then Chief Minister, Mr. Ghulam Haider Wyne. He made his enquiries, then informed Fakhar that he was powerless to do anything because some very important people were involved in this crime. When reminded that he was the Chief Minister, he shrugged his shoulder and apologized. The truth is that the laws, the rules and the regulations are all for the stupid morons who try to abide by them. If you are law-breaker, you are respected. If you are a criminal, you are the toast of this society and if you are educated, you are a yoyo who deserves to be cast aside like a twig. ‘Might is not right’ they taught us at school. My God, how wrong were they? Which country were they thinking of?

Today, Lahore is being plundered by the powerful land mafia, supported it is whispered, by the highest in the land. The ordinary people don’t stand a chance. In Karachi like in every other city, the mafia moves in, relentlessly and ruthlessly. People like Cowasjee crusade on and on, tilting at windmills, which grow stronger and bigger day by day. There is no law any more. You simply take what you fancy and it does not matter who owns it. Speculation in land has reached alarming proportions and land is sold at prices that sound like a calculator gone haywire. In my own area, once a peaceful and sedate residential enclave where the likes of Bapsi Sidhwa, Minoo Bhandara, Mrs. Najamuddin and families like the Zaidis and the Coopers lived for generations, is now held hostage by marauding commercial butchers. A Nihari House all three floors is coming up. It is totally illegal but that seems to be a qualification these days. Some VIP has interest in this project. Stay orders obtained by concerned citizens of the area have simply been laughed at with derision. Construction goes on at full speed. Nearby a monstrous car workshop is undergoing major expansion, a huge showroom is spreading its tentacles. The narrow lane, which feeds hundreds of residents has been choked with bricks, cement, steel, crush and mountains of sand. The builders have simply taken over a public street, no questions asked. Who is going to stop them? They have no approved plans. The Town Office refused to sanction them, but they have simply pushed on. In the face of this onslaught, the Town Office is impotent. The courts even more. Everyone who is expected to wield authority seems to have been castrated. This is the state of the nation as the faithful after a month of sleep walking and comatose existence prepare for the festivities at hand. Sorry Mr. Jinnah. You should have known better.