22

Transforming Special Branch
Special Branch, Punjab, that I headed as Additional Inspector General in June 1986, had undergone a complete transformation from its original role of a state security agency to a political persecutor under the influence of various military and civilian dicta­tor­ships. The capture of an enemy agent or spy by chance was not ruled out but the staple target remained the political opponents.
During the British raj, the Special Branch was a part of the Criminal In­vestigation Department (C.I.D.). It was a section within the C.I.D. that dealt with the effects on general law and order of political, sectarian, agrarian, la­bour, student and other spe­cial interest groups. Crime Branch was another sec­tion that was responsible for the detection and prevention of organized crime.
Special Branch of the C.I.D. also kept an eye on the activities of ene­my spies, saboteurs, terrorists and other miscreants threatening peace and secu­rity. It collected intelligence on security threats to very very important persons (VVIPs) and vital premises and took adequate counter measures. The charter of the C.I.D. duties was, however, much larger and included many other re­sponsibilities, generally described as “eyes and ears of the govern­ment,” sug­gested timely measures before the law and order could be un­dermined by vested interests or enemy forces. It acquired an odious reputation during the Inde­pendence Movement and the stigma continued even afterwards.
After the C.I.D. in UK was renamed as “Special Branch,” the example was followed here in 1950s as well as in India, Sri Lanka and other former British colonies.
The Special Branch continued to have gen­erally the same responsibili­ties, except that “Crime Branch” was separated and made responsible for in­telligence about and investigation of the organized crime, subversion, terror­ism, violent crimes and offences threaten­ing the secu­rity of the state. In the process of dividing the responsi­bilities between them, the Special Branch and the Crime Branch were made independent and the rela­tionship between in­telligence and counter-intelligence was snapped. Effective coordination be­tween the two branches was now possible only if the Inspector General of Po­lice had enough time for it, something he could never have, how­ever efficient or dynamic he might be.
An elaborate intelligence network and timely action were needed to pre­vent and detect organized anti-state crime. The coordination and in­teraction, so essential for correct and timely decisions, was taken away from the C.I.D. chief without creating any responsible command as an alternative. The Crime Branch became simply a police station of the IGP, without required support­ing system or resources. In fact, it was worse off than even a police station, which has an elaborate working system, with records and authority initiative. The Crime Branch staff has no original jurisdiction, only the reflected and deflected authority of the IGP. In the process, it became an investigating agency only of the ordinary crime cases that were transferred to it by the IGP. On the other hand, Special Branch became only a reporting agency, without any initiative or teeth. The performance of both Branches thus deteriorated because of the thoughtless bifurcation.

The imposition of martial law in 1958 completely changed the role of the Special Branch. The political activity was banned and politicians be­came the state enemies. The Special Branch focused all its energies on tracing those who violated the martial law orders and regulations. All other duties paled into in­significance. The political parties have their own information and in­telligence system but a martial law regime has to depend entirely on bureau­cratic chan­nels. Thus the Special Branch was trans­formed into a political wing of the martial law and its role un­derwent a basic change, from a state security organi­zation to a political censor.
The successive martial law regimes emphasized and strengthened the po­litical role and converted the Special Branch into a persecutor of poli­ticians. The speeches of the politicians were regularly recorded by the Special Branch for prosecuting them in case they uttered any objection­able words. The arti­cles, poems, books and press statements of the un­desirable politicians and intellectuals were scanned. The worst of the political offenders were detained in the Lahore Shahi Fort and interrogated by trained Spe­cial Branch experts.
But now that the martial law had been lifted, who would be the next tar­gets? Naturally the opposing politicians. But why not the real enemies of the country, the terrorists and saboteurs from enemy countries? The politicians can be arrested easily but the spies are always elusive. The easy-going police offi­cers would prefer to glorify their performance by capturing sitting ducks instead of venturing into the complex and difficult area of enemy agents.
I resolved to do the harder task. My first priority was to deal with the saboteurs of KHAD, RAW and KGB, who were very active and wide­spread be­cause of the Afghan conflict. Of course, I would not neglect the political field entirely and would keep a vigilant eye on the political de­velopments that threat­ened public peace.
I decided to change the orientation of the Special Branch in the right di­rec­tion under a phased programme and to change its role to improve its im­age. It was a very high target but I was determined to achieve it with patience and hard work. I had developed faith in Mian Nawaz Sharif be­cause of his restrained and wise handling of the tumultuous return of Benazir Bhutto from London. My faith in him increased when he decided, before my arrival, to close down the Special Branch cell in the Shahi Fort al­though my predeces­sor had been drag­ging his feet. Such sagacious deci­sions of the Chief Min­ister gave me courage and hope for reformation and reorganization of the Special Branch.

Nawaz Sharif had no clear understanding of the role of the Special Branch when I sought his instructions during my first formal meeting with him after taking over as Additional Inspector General of Police, Special Branch. Like any other politician or ruler, he thought that the Special Branch was meant to keep a tab on the opposing politicians and the possible dissi­dents in his own party. It was understandable because that had been the prac­tice for decades.
However, I was encouraged by his moral and religious attitudes that indi­cated his potential for doing the right things if put in the right per­spective. He was, for example, very keen that the police torture symbols of the Shahi Fort (Special Branch) and Haveli Dhian Singh (CIA center) should be closed imme­diately. He believed that the cells in the Fort par­ticularly had become extremely odi­ous and their closure would send a positive message about his government. However, in my view, the buildings did not make much differ­ence and the real change had to be in the attitude and behaviour of the gov­ernment and its police. To accommodate tempo­rarily the Special Branch staff based in the Fort, he provided the spacious premises at the Aiwan-i-Ti­jarat Road (formerly Race Course Road), occupied at one time by the British Deputy High Commissioner, then the Lahore De­velopment Authority and now by the Children Complex.
In my second meeting, I asked about his priorities for information and in­telligence. He told me that he had full confidence in me and my talent and wanted me to do my best to keep him informed on all relevant issues. He told me frankly that he did not know me intimately but Haji Muhammad Akram, the Home Secretary, vouched for me and the relevant matters might be dis­cussed with him.
Then he asked me, “What are the major areas of concern in your view?”
“Law and order, especially the terrorist activities and bomb blasts by KHAD and RAW agents,” I replied spontaneously as I was prepared for the question. “If things go out of control on this front, not only the state secu­rity will be weakened but the opposition will also exploit it against you.”
“Then make this as your first priority and no incident should take place. I shall hold you personally responsible for that.” He spoke so authoritatively that I did not like his style and thought that perhaps I had invited trouble for noth­ing. With my background information and experi­ence in the Federal Security Cell, I patiently explained the perspective and stressed the need for gearing up the entire administrative machinery to meet the challenge. The Special Branch had a vital but limited role of identifying the threat and pro­posing counter measures. The actual preventive and detective operations had to be carried out by the district administration. He directed me to prepare a comprehensive strat­egy pa­per, outlining the problems and their solutions. Thus, I was able to focus his attention on the real problem of law and order and state security.
Later, I briefed IGP S.D. Jamy, on my discussion with the Chief Minis­ter. He did not like my making the law and order as the biggest problem as, in his view, it amounted to a personal criticism of him. I explained my point of view but he was not satisfied. My sincere and truthful analysis was to cre­ate a permanent misunderstanding between Jamy and me but I stuck to my point of view as I had decided to put the Special Branch on the right track.
I started preparing the strategy paper as directed by the Chief Minis­ter, listing the most critical areas where national security was threatened. The area of top concern was the terrorism of geopolitical and regional dimensions, in­flicted by the Afghan conflict and the Iran-Iraq war and also being ex­ploited by India. Second was the organized violent crime that, as a sequel to the ever-in­creasing illegal inflow of lethal firearms and deadly narcotics, was seriously disturbing the entire social order. Then the sectarian divide had be­come sharp and severe, with potential to destroy the public peace. The bitter­ness on the political, labour and stu­dent fronts, although diluted by free po­litical activity, remained a serious social problem as an unfortunate legacy of a prolonged mar­tial law.
There was a long list of other areas of serious concern and I proposed spe­cific counter measures and strategies to meet the challenges. I also criti­cally analyzed the shortcomings and inadequacies of the police, which were due to its having remained a victim of negligence for a very long time. It was short of funds, lacked training, and was very poorly equipped. The transport and commu­nications facilities to meet serious challenges were almost nonex­istent. Having briefly mentioned the general state of adminis­trative affairs, I confined myself to the Special Branch af­fairs, out of deference to the IGP, so that there was no further misunder­standing.
The various aspects of reorganization of the Special Branch were also in­cluded in the paper. Besides improving the buildings, transport, communica­tions, etc., special emphasis was given to its modernization. It was shocking that an intelligence and secu­rity organization like Special Branch, Punjab, in 1986 did not have even an ordinary radio, tape recorder or a still camera, not to speak of more advanced, but still very common, equipment, like video cameras, facsimiles (fax) or personal computers.
The oldest as well as the most modern weapon with the Special Branch was the coercive use of authority through harassment and torture. The organi­zation had stopped growing after it became a handmaid of the tyrannical sys­tem. It lost both interest and capability to handle the threats to state security and, instead, concentrated on politicians as an easy target. To cover up inade­quacies and deficiencies, the material already published in the press was put up under file covers marked SECRET! The only addition used to be often false and fabricated reporting.
The paper proposed three new sections in the Special Branch:
a) Anti-Terrorist Cell, with adequate and specially trained staff, to con­cen­trate exclusively on the challenge of ever-growing terrorist threats;
b) Security Section, to deal with threats to persons and premises of vital importance.
c) Research and Reference Section, with qualified staff, to analyze, syn­thesize and preserve the available information for its best possible use, avoiding action based purely on hunches, guesses and half-baked infor­ma­tion;

I had noticed in my long experience that many functionaries in sen­sitive positions would tender extremely hostile advice to the chief execu­tive against his actual or perceived political adversaries to cover up their own lack of cor­rect information. They would try to win his heart by playing up his fears and phobias so that he would lean on them. Such tactics would make him neu­rotic and instigate him to crush his enemies with suppressive measures. The equally strong reaction of the adversaries would embroil him in an inextri­ca­ble situation.
It was, therefore, not surprising that police officers in the Special Branch were reluctant to support the proposed changes because of their limited hori­zon and I had to goad them to follow my point of view. An exception was SP Tanweer Hameed. I was lucky to have him working with me. I gave the gen­eral outline of my perceptions to him and he did the laborious job of writing the strategy paper.
Tanweer, who was later promoted as a DIG, was a great intellectual and a very intelligent, erudite and sagacious offi­cer, with penetrating insight into human, social and political affairs. Very well-informed about the latest de­velopments in all fields of his responsibility, he had a special temperament for intelligence work and was, in fact, the backbone of the Special Branch. In mid-1994, he was suddenly transferred and made an OSD, technically an “Officer on Special Duty” but actually a position of dis­grace. He had been working in the Special Branch for about 10 years and had never expressed a desire to go elsewhere. He took the humiliation to his heart and the tension proved to be fatal. Shortly afterwards, in August, he suddenly died. He was only 46.
Hameed Aslam Malik, my SP Administration, with enthusiasm for mod­ern technology, worked hard in producing related material like slides, graphs and charts, to facilitate an impressive presentation. Ultimately, I had to seek outside help to give the strategy paper the final shape. I called upon my very knowl­edgeable and clueful friend, A/Hameed, who helped us in preparing a very de­tailed scheme on modernization for in­clusion in our plan. It would take almost a year before the plan was fi­nally ready.
I made an elaborate and convincing presentation before the Chief Minis­ter, while others present included Anwar Zahid, Chief Secretary, Haji Akram, Home Secretary, and S.D. Jamy, IGP. The Chief Minister approved the entire scheme without any changes.

Modernization. He also approved the appointment of my friend, Mu­hammad Abd al-Hameed (referred to as A/Hameed in this book), as Director, Research and Reference, in the newly created Research and Reference Sec­tion. I was convinced that the insular and inward-looking Special Branch needed an outsider with modern and unbiased approach to introduce major changes in its outmoded operations. Besides having a criti­cal eye for obvious but usually unno­ticed problems, he was an expert in providing effective, practical and at the same time very economical solutions to major problems. His vast knowledge of latest office technologies was to prove of great help in transforming the organization and bringing it closer to modern times.
He made a start with telecommunications. The introduction of fax (facsimile) machines in 1987 was a real revolution, drastically reducing the huge phone call charges for transmission of daily reports from the regional offices. (Though the technology was invented about 150 years ago and fax machines had been avail­able in the West as affordable office equipment for about 25 years, it was un­known in our country. Even its commercial import was not allowed till the ban was lifted in 1989.) The purchase of fax ma­chines re­quired special sanction as there was no precedent in any government depart­ment. When I took the file to the Home Secretary, he wondered what a fax machine was. “Frankly, I myself don’t know,” I replied. “But I do know that it would be very useful for my office.” His personal regard for me car­ried more weight with him than the technology and the sanction was given promptly.
Then electronic PABXs, which also served as intercoms, were installed in head office as well as all re­gional offices. Later the leased lines linked them to form a network for instan­taneous and un­limited phone calls with a fixed annual bill. The linking of com­puters to the network was to complete the system, which would meet all present needs.
The personal computers, another novelty in government departments then, were gradually and pa­tiently made a part of the office environment. Since word processing was practically our only need, we had tremendous in­crease in speed, accu­racy and efficiency in preparing reports and briefs. Be­sides being the first of­fice of the Punjab government to use personal comput­ers, the Special Branch later became the most computerized one though the total expenditure was only a few hun­dred thousands of rupees.
Keeping in view various other needs, useful equipment was introduced, includ­ing audio and video tape recorders, still and video cameras. To pre­serve old and decaying records, a microfilming unit was set up. The library, which was in shambles, was reorganized and turned into a useful reference section.
The repair and renovation of the main head office building were go­ing on when I asked A/Hameed to have a look at the plans. Though not an engi­neer, he suggested changes that led to the doubling of office space at a very small additional expenditure.
There were many other changes and improvements because of his stream of imaginative and innovative suggestions. I made a still greater use of his knowledge and experience after I became the IGP Punjab.

Anti-Terrorist Cell. For the Anti-Terrorist Cell, I sought the help of the army for top-level intelligence expertise. Ultimately, we were able to find a highly qualified and trained retired army officer, Lt Col. Muham­mad Ashraf. He had done numerous courses in intelligence, counter intelligence and fight­ing terrorism. He was appointed as DIG (Anti-Terrorist Cell) on contract. His ap­pointments turned out to be extremely useful and pro­ductive.
Security Section. The Security Section was to be headed by a DIG, with an SP (Survey) and other staff under him to analyze possible security threats to VVIPs and vital installations.

Training school and permanent staff. Despite their specialized and sensi­tive duties, the Special Branch staff got the same training as the gen­eral cadre police. A separate training school for them was, therefore, essential. As the staff needed a long stay to build up their perspec­tive and operational skills, it was proposed that, instead of borrowing them on temporary basis en­tirely from the district police, 75% of the staff at lower levels should be re­cruited directly and should remain permanently in the Special Branch to en­sure continuity. (The remaining 25% were to continue to come on deputation from the district police or other intelligence agencies.) Both pro­posals were ap­proved. The budget under various heads was also revised, rational­ized and en­hanced.
The construction of a sprawling complex, with the required office and resi­dential buildings, was started at Chung, near Lahore, for the Anti-Terror­ist Cell and the Special Branch Training School. The school was to have modern equipment and facilities to teach and train the staff in all needed skills and techniques, including photography, communications, sharp-shooting, un­armed combat, use of fax and computer. The syllabus was evolved painstak­ingly after detailed discussions with the Intelligence Bureau and the Army School of Intel­ligence. Col. Ashraf, Maj. Qadeer, Aftab Sultan and Ch. Mu­hammad Ashraf Marath made significant contri­butions in building up the training school.

Daily Situation Report. In spite of my great emphasis on security, politi­cal activity could not be neglected because it had the maximum bearing on the gen­eral law and order. The information on it was collected by the field staff and passed on to the head office as a daily routine. (The political criticism was mostly dropped as it only increased the blood pressure of the rulers and raised the possibility of misuse of authority.) To separate grain from the chaff, how­ever, the volume of the Daily Situation Report (DSR) was reduced from an av­erage of 65 to only 15 pages, reporting only what was significant from security point of view and relevant to law and order. The language of the report was changed from English to Urdu, to save time and energy wasted in translation and to eliminate the vexing problem caused by the declining num­ber of good translators in the staff. A/Hameed dealt with many editorial and production problems relating to switchover to Urdu. He also introduced a new and modern layout that allowed faster production and eas­ier reading of the DSR.

Cure for administrative indigestion. The people around the Chief Minis­ter and even my own IGP coaxed him for getting maximum infor­mation. I had to call him five or six times a day and pass on whatever information had been received by then, mostly of insignificant nature. Exasperated by the fu­tile ex­ercise, I sought an exclusive meeting with him. I ex­plained that too much and premature information could be dangerous for the chief executive, causing ad­ministrative indigestion and vomiting out of incorrect or­ders that could lead to chaos and confusion. The Chief Minister was, after all, not an operational officer. He should take only policy decisions and must not inter­fere in day-to-day measures for maintaining law and order. The district mag­istrate is the senior most officer on the spot and should be allowed to take op­erational decisions. Otherwise, the field officers may abandon initiative and always seek approval from highest authority for every small step. Mian Sahib agreed with me in prin­ciple but I could see that my suggestion had not sunk in.
“Nawab of Kalabagh was a good administrator,” he said. “He was very well-informed. He knew even what was cooked in the kitchen of an officer.”
“That was not the reason of his success,” I replied. “He trusted his offi­cers once they were posted after proper scrutiny. The collection of too much infor­mation would appear sneaky, destroying the bond of faith be­tween you and your senior officers. You may tell them to follow the law and the pre­scribed procedure for maintaining public peace. But the clever ones would like to involve you even in minor decisions to avoid their own responsi­bility. Just don’t be available to them for such matters. Please give only policy de­cisions and you would be fol­lowing the wisest possible policy. The fury raised over the years by the over-reaction of petty functionaries will be spent in due course and there will be smooth sailing.” I could see that my sugges­tion was sinking in but he could not help insisting, more out of curiosity than ne­cessity, that he be kept well-informed about the politi­cians and the offi­cers. After that meeting, the frequency of phone calls from the Chief Minister de­creased to almost nothing.

Stop following the politicians. “Why do you put those dirty looking pick-ups to trail the politicians?” the Chief Minister asked me one day.
My reply was, “Sir, it is supposedly to keep an eye on their activities and also to ensure their security. It has been a practice since long al­though it serves no practical purpose. It is annoying for the one who is being sur­veilled, espe­cially when he moves on purely private purposes, say to see a girl friend.”
He smiled and said, “Chaudhry Sahib, adopt some better way. It does not look nice.”
I followed his instructions in letter and spirit. There was both static and mobile surveillance on important or hostile politicians. I took measures to re­move that clumsy irritant, prevailing since the British raj and used more ag­gressively and extensively by the martial law regimes.
The first watch I removed was from the house of Rao Rashid, the former IGP Punjab. He approached me through his friend, Malik Waris, retired SP, to restore the watch “because I feel safer from burglars and dacoits in the presence of the Special Branch staff outside my house!” I had a good laugh. That was the only purpose that was being served at such a huge expenditure!
Earlier, when I proposed to my officers to remove the surveillance from the house of Rao Rashid, they were so shocked as if heavens would fall. One SP said, “Sir, he is considered to be one of the most dangerous persons. Gen. Zia had personally ordered watch on him.”
I asked him, “Did you come to know through your watch about any dan­gerous move by him?”
“No, not exactly,” he said, slightly unhinged, “but he might have made one if he was not under watch.”
“Let us not speculate and waste our scarce resources,” I told him. “We should try to trace the saboteurs who are planting bombs and killing people in­stead of driving the poor politicians mad by our unpleasant pres­ence.” After the removal of the watch outside his house, I placed a good cook inside the house of Rao Rashid, who was useful to both him and me.

I removed practically all static and mobile watches, to the surprise of many politicians, who had become used to their presence. Ch. Mu­hammad Arshad, of Pakistan Democratic Party, came to my office and asked, “Why the friends have been removed from the residence of Nawabzada Nasrulla Khan at 32, Nicholson Road?”
“Because Nawaz Sharif does not feel threatened by Nawabzada,” I said smilingly.
“He is the most intelligent and experienced politician in the country and you should be taking no risks with him,” he replied in the same tone.
“We are watching only anti-Pakistan saboteurs. Mian Sahib intends to evolve decent traditions and do away with such clumsy practices. Nawabzada is no threat to the country.” I told him the real position hon­estly and sin­cerely.
“I don’t buy this trash,” he said with a straight face. “There must be something else up your sleeves.” Then, with a smile on his face, he added, “We have lost good companions and workers. Your people were very useful. We used to send them to bring tea and meals from the hotel. Then they would, of course, join us. Please restore at least one of them.”
When he met me next, he brought an observation of his party chief. “Nawabzada Sahib thinks that Ch. Sardar has a sharp politi­cal brain.” It seemed I was becoming a politician in everybody’s eyes for unwinding the long politicized administrative tangle. The surveillance of a politician by Special Branch was considered a professional job but withdrawing the watch or not in­terfering in a political issue, by some queer logic, was “playing poli­tics.” A long practice can gain its own acceptability, if not sanctity. Or, per­haps a point of criticism was being taken away from the opposition. (If the gov­ernment became decent, how could they criticize it?)
The closing of the Special Branch subjail in the Shahi Fort was also ini­tially taken with suspicion. While Nawaz Sharif tried to introduce some de­cent traditions, he was not being believed by the opposition in view of their very bit­ter experience of the dictatorial regimes, who depended more on tricks than truth. I reminded Arshad Chaudhri of his own oft-repeated quota­tion, “Truth always triumphs.” He said, “Let us see.”

Advocates of coercion. Along with the healthy developments, some negative influences were also working on Nawaz Sharif. There were people coaxing him to adopt stiff and harsh measures, like Nawab of Kalabagh and Mustafa Khar. “Have maximum information on the weak points of the oppo­nents,” their line went. “Blackmail them, pressurize them with false cases and terrorize them with torture in police stations and jails. That is the way to keep the Punjabis under control. That is the history and the temperament of the Punjab. The advice of Haji Akram, Dr Safdar Mahmood and Ch. Sardar is all trash. Decency is weakness.”
I came to know that about half the Punjab cabinet had spoken on those lines in their exclusive political meetings. Some very senior civil and police of­ficers had also given the same advice to Nawaz Sharif. Some old martial law stalwarts also gave him the same prescription. The Chief Minister was under tremendous mental pressure, as he could not ig­nore such an over­whelming opinion. Consequently, in the presence of some ministers at the Lahore airport, he expressed his anger and dissatisfaction on the poor working of the Special Branch. I did not like that but preferred discre­tion. I assured him in the usual way that I would come up to his expecta­tion by providing him the maximum information. I knew that he was be­ing misled and the re­sult would be only annoying allies and friends on one hand and politicians on the other.
One of the ministers present at the airport on that occasion was Miss Sha­heen Attique-ur-Rahman, daughter of Lt Gen. Attique-ur-Rahman, who was Martial Law Administrator and the Governor of West Pakistan during the Yahya Khan re­gime. She said, “The secret of my father’s success as the Governor was that he knew by the minute what was happening in his prov­ince.”
“Do you know who was his eyes and ears?” I asked.
“No, I don’t know,” she said casually, “but he was very well-in­formed.”
“It was I who was his useless or useful SP Intelligence in the Martial Law Headquarters,” I told her and Nawaz Sharif.
I knew I had deflected a possibly fatal attack on me and hoped that Nawaz Sharif would continue to follow his own instincts of decency and jus­tice instead of using suppression and terror of the state machinery. To keep him on the right track, I said, “Sir, by defusing the MRD agitation with your firm and morally decent approach, you have already achieved a great success where so many governments failed most miserably, includ­ing the martial law regimes. Please avoid the advice of those who have failed.” He was visibly convinced.
I had deliberately flattered him, although that was also a true state­ment, so that he could regain courage and conviction to follow the path of justice and fairplay. I played on his religious piety as well by saying that fairness was the way to success not only in the next but also in this very world -- in the Punjab. I knew his psyche and was sure that I had him on my side.
Both Haji Akram, Home Secretary, and Anwar Zahid, Chief Secre­tary, were pleased when I told them what had happened at the airport. Anwar Za­hid had succeeded Siddique Chaudhry as the Chief Secretary, Punjab. I knew him since he was posted as Assistant Commissioner, To­ba Tek Singh, in mid-1950s and I was a student at the Government Col­lege, Lahore. He is a very fine hu­man being and an officer of deep in­sight, unimpeachable integ­rity and high caliber.