19

The use and misuse of FIA
Federal Investigation Agency inquires into matters pertaining to fed­eral affairs and investigates into offences under federal laws. It is also the main anti-corruption investigative body for federal employees, with wide le­gal powers. In March 1980, I was posted as Director, FIA, Rawalpindi re­gion. My area of jurisdiction included the North West Frontier Province, Northern Areas, Islamabad and the Rawalpindi Division. In April 1981, I was trans­ferred as Director, FIA, Lahore. In both places, I dealt with sev­eral inquiries into cor­ruption cases, some of which have been described in the chapter, “How not to eliminate corrup­tion.”
Mian Muhammad Aslam Hayat Wattoo was the Director General of FIA. He was a pious, bold, firm, and truthful police officer, with unim­peachable integrity. He was like a maestro, with full grasp of his job. I had worked with him earlier also while he was Additional Inspector General of Police, Punjab, during 1973-75.

Harassing landlord politicians. The martial law regime had raked up complaints against landlords, who were also leading politicians, for vio­lation of land reforms regulations and, under a martial law order, all these cases had been trans­ferred to the FIA for investigation. Muhammad Aslam Bajwa, my predeces­sor in Lahore, was supposed to be an expert in land matters. There­fore, the cases from all over the country were being handled by him.
I found nothing substantial in the files. The allegations usually in­cluded pre-dating of mutations in land records or under-calculation of the produce units in collusion with the Revenue Department staff. In case of the family of Nawab of Bahawalpur, the charge was that declarations of land holdings had not been filed before the fixed date in 1972. As not filing a decla­ration before the due date was an offence, the CMLA Headquarters wanted action against the Nawab family. Hence, cases had been registered against a large number of the family members. But the funny thing was that the inheritance shares had not been determined by the Supreme Court and who owned how much land had yet to be decided. So the question of filing any declaration before the given date did not arise at all.
The case against Sadiq Husain Qureshi, former Governor, Punjab, and his family was based on the land allotted in 1954 under a 20-year tubewell scheme. If that land was included in his ownership, he and every member of his family would be guilty of exceeding 8000 produce units, the maximum that an individual could own. The investigation officer held them guilty not only of owning more than the permissible limit but also of falsification of the records and antedating the ownership to 1972. In the process, he declared Hafeezulla Ishaq, Deputy Commissioner, Multan, Malik Jahangir and other revenue officers guilty of forgery of the records.
I studied the file carefully and wondered why Sadiq Qureshi should have tried to acquire the ownership of the land in 1972 instead of 1974 when it would have become due, as laid down in the scheme way back in 1954, unless he had made up his mind most stupidly to trap himself and the family into criminal cases for no obvious gain. The case was thus totally baseless but Sadiq Qureshi and the relevant revenue officers were very frightened be­cause of the martial law. I canceled the case on merit, without calling any­body for inquiry.
I canceled the other cases also in the same manner. The Brigadier in­charge of the land reforms cases in the CMLA Headquarters felt very of­fended. He de­manded my explanation in writing. I sent him a report in writing that the very registration of the cases was without any basis. He never bothered me again.
When the subject came up during a discussion with Hafeezulla Ishaq in 1984, while we both were doing a course at National Institute of Public Ad­ministration (NIPA) in Lahore, he expressed his belief that the case in­volv­ing him had been canceled because of an understanding between Gen. Zia and Sadiq Qureshi. When I told him about the actual position, he was very sur­prised that I could do it on my own initiative. The martial law re­gime, however, did succeed in cowing down the leading land-owning politi­cians. Most of those involved in cases of violating land reforms were to join later the nominated Majlis-i-Shoora (Consultative Council) of Gen. Zia.

Encounter with Seth Abid. I knew Ahmad Mian Somroo since he was the Senior Deputy Speaker in the West Pakistan Assembly in the late 1960s. On his request, his friend, Seth Abid Husain, came to see me one day in 1982. He requested that the appeal filed by the FIA Lahore in the High Court against his ac­quittal in a smuggling case against him and his associ­ates may be withdrawn. I told him that it would be difficult as the matter was before a court of law. “Let there be a final judicial verdict on the case,” I told him. He was not satis­fied.
Suddenly he asked, “Has not Mahmood Bhai spoken to you?”
“Who is he?” It was my turn to ask a question.
“Mahmood Haroon, the Interior Minister,” he confided.
“No, he has not spoken to me,” I replied. I was intrigued.
“Not even Zia Bhai?” He asked, with surprise.
“No,” I told him, without showing any surprise on his high connec­tions, as he was referring to Gen. Zia-ul-Haq. He left me, very disappointed.
This case against him had been registered way back in 1976 after a huge quantity of gold, watches and currency was captured and seized by the police and the Rangers. The FIA had conducted the investigation and taken the case to the court. The contention of the FIA was that the goods were meant to be smuggled out of the country. The defence took the position that the goods were not being smuggled but were being collected at one place to declare as black money as the last date allowed by the government for such a declara­tion was approaching. (The raid was conducted two days before the expiry of the date for filing declarations of black money.) The court ac­cepted the conten­tion of the defence and acquitted the accused from the charge of smuggling. The FIA had filed an appeal against the verdict. Seth Abid wanted the ap­peal to be withdrawn and the goods returned to him. I could not do it.
After a week, I received a copy of an order from the Federal Govern­ment that it had decided to withdraw the appeal against Seth Abid and oth­ers. The direction had been addressed to the Attorney General and a copy was endorsed to the FIA for information and further necessary action. The FIA had not even been consulted, as I was informed by Mian Aslam Hayat on my query. The Director General told me that Seth Abid had a lunch meeting with the President in the Presidency and the order followed as night followed the day. The Attorney General withdrew the appeal and the judi­cial proceedings came to an end.
After the withdrawal of the appeal, I wrote to the Commissioner, In­come Tax, with copies to about a dozen concerned authorities, that the goods seized and deposited with the State Bank could be released only after the de­duction of the tax prescribed by the Government in 1976 on the declared black money. The contention of the defence had been that the goods were collected for declaration as black money on which the lower court had based its judgment. Now tax deduction was perfectly legal after the withdrawal of the FIA appeal. I never came to know how Seth Abid felt about my letter.

Misusing authority for religion. Even the misplaced prejudices of otherwise honest public servants can cause gross injustice. One such case involved a well-educated and highly qualified manager of a nationalized in­dustry. He was charged with having sold some steel at a price less than the market price, causing a loss of Rs 13,000 to the government. He was mal­treated by an FIA Inspector during investigation. The manager came to my office the next day, trembling and shaking with anger.
“I don’t know how I have managed to reach you,” he cried. “The In­spector was hell-bent on destroying me. I cajoled and flattered him and that is how I am with you.”
I called my Deputy Director Ja’far Khan, a very capable and honest of­fi­cer, and went into the details of the case. The steel was sold in 1980 and the comparison of prices was being made with the market prices of 1984! Once I was convinced that the accused officer was absolutely inno­cent, I checked about the Inspector. He turned out to be a very honest and pious of­ficer. I was intrigued how it all happened.
On probing, it was found that the complaint came through the CMLA Headquarters, claiming that “a Bhutto-favoured Mirzai was looting billions of rupees fearlessly.” It would certainly invite the wrath of a zealot. The of­ficer heading the corporation was in fact an Ahmadi while the Inspector hap­pened to be a devout Shia. The Inspector, during investigation, suffered from a religious frenzy and decided to terrorize the Ahmadi. He let him go only when the accused promised to become a Muslim at the hand of the In­spec­tor’s pir. He felt proud of having converted at least one apostate with the use of his official authority. Necessary steps were taken to cancel the case. I don’t know whether the conversion of the Ahmadi was permanent.

Complaints against army officers. During the early 1980s, there were many complaints of corruption not only against the civilian officers but also the army officers engaged in martial law duties. The complainants ap­proached the FIA officers for raids and inquiries but we could not initiate any action against army officers unless authorized by the CMLA or the MLA concerned. Ironically, the incharge of the complaint cell of the CMLA Headquarters himself was, after an inquiry by FIA, found guilty of fraud and corruption and was sentenced to a jail term. He was making money by ter­rorizing the persons against whom he received complaints or he himself originated pseudonymous complaints and extorted money from the relevant persons! He even misused the name of Begum Zia.
An inquiry into the complaints of corruption against Gen. Fazl-i-Raziq, Chairman, WAPDA, was conducted by Ja’far Khan, Deputy Director, FIA, under the personal supervision of the Director General. He was the brother of Gen. Fazl-i-Haq, the Governor and Martial Administrator of the NWFP. Even before the inquiry could start, Qayyum Arif, the complainant against Gen. Fazl-i-Raziq, was sentenced to rigorous imprisonment for one year by a summary military court for “defaming the army by leveling cor­ruption charges against a retired general.” The complainant was very resil­ient and continued writing from jail to various persons, with convincing proofs. Ul­timately, the President had to remove the General and release Qayyum Arif after four months. It was pro­posed that the General might be sent abroad as an ambassador but the in­quiry stood in the way. The inquiry officer could not help the General but the FIA headquarters did put a favour­able interpre­tation.
There were many cases of innocent people being unnerved by the ter­ror of martial law and forced to pay bribes. Many people lost their valuable properties to forcible possessions. In one case, an army officer in uniform took away cement and steel from the construction site of a friend of mine. Extremely agitated, my friend approached me but I had to tell him frankly that I was not in a position to help him. He then decided to turn the other cheek and went to that officer and asked him if he needed anything else. The officer shamelessly asked for more steel. My friend provided him the needed steel but could not help asking him, “Why did you decide to take away my construction material forcibly?”
“Because I needed it to complete my house,” came the unabashed re­ply. Then the army officer elaborated his personal philosophy. “The bas­tard (Gen. Zia) did not give me a second chance to serve on martial law duty. I ran short of money. You dirty businessmen have a lot of money. It makes no difference to you. So I did it. Now you can do anything you like.” My friend was overwhelmed by the officer’s candidness and, again turning the other cheek, gave him a good job in his firm after his retirement! Now they are very good friends!
What happened to DIG Khalid Masud was stranger than fiction. He came to me for advice. He told me that a Brigadier of the Martial Law Headquarters, Punjab Zone, was demanding Rs 200,000 as a bribe for hush­ing up a case against him that was registered when he was DIG Ba­ha­walpur. I thought he must be kidding but he was quite serious.
“But the Brigadier is your drinking pal,” I said.
“Yes, he is but now he has turned vicious,” Khalid replied. “He is very serious and has demanded the money three times. He says he has to marry his daughter.”
“He is your friend. Lend him the money so that he can marry his daughter,” I advised him.
“But I have got no money. By God, I have no money at all though he thinks I have been making a lot of it.” Khalid explained his predicament. Then, in a conspiratorial tone, he suggested, “Why don’t you arrange a raid? You are Director FIA.”
I was shocked. But he insisted, as it was perhaps the only way out he could think of. I told him, “Arranging a raid against such a senior army offi­cer would be foolhardy.” I advised him to talk to some general in the army. I learnt a few days later that he had run away from the country. He returned home in 1986, only after the martial law had been lifted. He later proved his innocence and is now back in service.

The fall-out of Al-Zulfiqar. Al-Zulfiqar had been formed by Mur­taza and Shahnawaz, the sons of Zulfikar Ali Bhutto, soon after their fa­ther’s hanging. By early 1980s, its terrorist activities had been stepped up. An at­tempt was made in Rawalpindi to fire a missile at the plane of Presi­dent Zia. Some army installations were hit by bomb blasts or direct firing. Two prominent anti-Bhutto politicians, Ch. Zahoor Elahi and Mohsin Bho­pali, were assassi­nated.
Al-Zulfiqar was being financed by the Afghans, Russians and Indians, with addi­tional support from Libya, Syria, Palestine Liberation Organiza­tion and some other pro-Russia countries. Many Bhutto fans among the young­sters were available for recruitment. Many outlaws, already in sanc­tuaries in the tribal belt, also joined the organization for glory as well as fi­nancial sup­port and weapons. A large number of activists had been ar­rested and those who knew about Al-Zulfiqar elements or were related even remotely to them, were being interrogated in the infamous Lahore Fort cells of the Special Branch. The committed workers were carrying out the as­signed missions but those, who had joined due to compul­sions of circum­stances, were surrender­ing to the police and army and divulg­ing secrets and information about their associates in various missions or still un­der training.
Al-Zulfiqar operations were being thwarted thoroughly and ruthlessly. The government agencies would arrest persons, even army and police offi­cers, on the slightest suspicions of planning to overthrow the government. Mian Zaheer Ahmad, then DIG Bahawalpur, was detained in the Attock Fort as his name had been found in the diary of a person suspected of plotting against the Zia regime. He was kept there for more than a year and nothing was ultimately found against him. His illustrious father, Mian Bashir Ah­mad, who had retired as IGP West Pakistan, died of the shock. I asked a very senior general why they had become so panicky and started interning such responsible and senior officers without any solid evidence. He replied, “Everything is fair in love and war. If you are referring to Zaheer, you forget that he is also son-in-law of Sardar Ibrahim, the PPP President of Azad Kashmir.” I thanked Allah that none of my relatives was in any political party.
Zahid Shamsi, nephew of my friend, Nasir Shamsi, went for ziarat to some West Asian (Middle Eastern) countries, including Syria. He was put in the Lahore Fort on the suspicion that he might have had something to do with Murtaza Bhutto and Al-Zulfiqar. He was doing business and had no political affiliations. Nor did he have any soft corner for the PPP. Nasir Shamsi had been screened out by Bhutto and had to leave the country. As a result, the whole family was against the PPP. But Zahid’s visit to Damascus was enough to make him suffer torture in the fort. It took many months for his father to get him released. Zahid has been a psychological wreck since then.
Malik Muhammad Hayat, a 70-year-old country gentleman, along with his brother, was charged of involvement in Al-Zulfiqar activities. He was one of the first zaildars (nominated village elders) who resigned on the call of the Quaid-i-Azam in 1940s and since then had never taken part in poli­tics. I was shocked by his arrest and requested a very responsible offi­cer, who was incharge of such affairs, to look into the matter dispassion­ately. It took him three months to reach the conclusion that Malik Hayat had been gotten trapped by his personal enemies. Even then, it took another three months be­fore he could be released.
When I asked the same senior officer why it had taken that long to re­lease an innocent old man, he said, “Because the matter was very impor­tant.”
“The baseless, untenable and so obviously silly complaint or the de­ten­tion of the old respectable country gentleman?” I retorted.
He appeared very grim. “What are you saying? It was a very serious complaint. Hell with the old man. He does not count with us. We have to save the Islamic government of the General.” I thought it better to be dis­creet and not say anything more. He was still furious and said, “Tell the old man to behave. Otherwise, he will be gone for ever.” I was shocked, in fact, ter­rorized. I just thanked him for his “profound kindness.”
Shortly afterwards, as the luck would have it, the same officer was charged with very serious allegations of corruption and the inquiry was en­trusted by the Federal Government, of all the people, to me. I found him cringing in my office. I was correct and fair with him to the last detail. He was never sent to jail, not to talk of the Lahore Fort. He was not even ar­rested. Yet he was crying all the time. He was very worried that his grown-up daughter would not find a suitable match if the matter became public. (The inquiry was never made public.)
I showed him all possible human consideration but could not compro­mise on facts. He met his well-deserved end from the Government but I tried not to hurt his personal dignity. I could not help asking him, very po­litely, if he ever thought of the dignity of Malik Hayat and others like him in a similar situation. He said he had never thought beyond his own self.
Rana Shaukat Mahmood was my friend since the college days. I joined police and he became a politician, now a PPP leader. He and his wife (who has a master’s degree in psychology) were arrested under Mar­tial Law and were confined to solitary imprisonment in separate cells in the Lahore Fort. Their only child, a baby girl, was not allowed to see the parents to­gether. She had to be brought on different days and see them separately. While Rana Shaukat was detained in the fort, his real mother died. (His fa­ther had two wives.) He was al­lowed to go home for three days to receive condolences. I went to condole with him. Jahangir Badar and Nazim Shah, two PPP leaders from Lahore, were also there. They were surprised to see me and were wor­ried that the Government might not like it. I told them that I had come in my personal capacity to condole the death of the mother of my friend. But dicta­torial governments are great enemies of social graces and my visit was, in fact, in­terpreted as indiscreet by my officers and a political activity by the Govern­ment. No action was, however, taken against me.

Injustice to Justices. Several Supreme Court and High Court judges were sent home for not siding with the regime, including Mr Justice Mushtaq Husain, Chief Justice of the Lahore High Court, who had given death sen­tence to Bhutto. Sh. Anwar-ul-Haq, Chief Justice of the Supreme Court, who in appeal had confirmed the death sentence, was also not spared. Jus­tice Samdani had to go anyhow as he had initially granted bail to Bhutto. When the judges were removed, a very close friend of mine overheard the General saying, “They get their salaries from us and also give judgments against us. I shall teach them a lesson.”
Under the Provisional Constitutional Order (PCO), which required all judges of superior courts to take again their oath of office, the undesirable ones were not invited to do so. Because of the successful operation under the PCO, the superior courts were no longer providing any relief in cases in­volv­ing human rights. It added to the despondency among the people and caused intense hatred against the regime, even among the non-PPP circles.

Suffering for the right thing. Qazi Muhammad Azam replaced Mian Aslam Hayat as Director Gene­ral of the Federal Investigation Agency in early 1984. President Zia had turned sour with Mian Aslam Hayat as Mian Sahib had found it difficult to accept a recommendation by the General to promote an inspector out of turn because of his being very junior in service and not having a good service record. A pir of Zia had recommended the promotion and the General considered a failure to oblige a good reason to shunt out the head of the agency. Qazi Azam, obeying the wish of the Presi­dent, promptly pro­moted the very influential Inspector.
Qazi Azam ordered me to hold departmental proceedings against In­spec­tor Muhammad Sharif on charges of collusion with smugglers. I car­ried out a thorough inquiry but nothing was found. So, I recommended mi­nor ac­tion against him for some minor lapses noticed dur­ing the inquiry. Qazi Azam was annoyed and directed me to propose his dis­missal as he had al­ready spoken to the President. I was surprised why the President should be interested in the case of a junior officer like an Inspec­tor. I looked into the matter further but could not find anything new against him. So I reiter­ated my earlier report. The DG hit the roof.
“You will suffer for this,” he roared.
“Why, sir? I have been correct. Why should I suffer for doing the right thing?” I submitted most politely.
“I had told you that I had spoken to the President. You have done the worst type of defiance. You will suffer for that.” He repeated himself, be­having like a Pharaoh. I was transferred that very day to the Federal Secu­rity Cell, Rawalpindi.
The posting did not suit me as my children were studying in Lahore. But one has to pay the price if one chooses to be fair and correct. I did not submit to the blackmail and pressure of my immediate boss as it was against my moral grain. Many people in power, whether president or pat­wari, use their authority not as a trust and responsibility from Allah but as an instru­ment of hideous blackmail against those very people whose protection had been placed in their hands. But you can always leave the con­sequences of following the righteous path to Allah, who will always look af­ter you in your hour of trial. As it turned out, Allah had destined something totally dif­ferent and noble for me in that transfer. I was placed in a position where I could make substantial contribution in bringing back the country on the democratic rails and defuse the despondency, divisiveness, decay, deception and danger­ous disorder.