27

The local bodies elections that nobody wanted
For the local bodies in the Punjab, 1987 was the year of elections. It was a much bigger exercise than the general elections, with more fierce con­tests for Union Councils, District Councils and Municipal Corporations. The constituencies were smaller, involving people more intimately. As a result, the law and order implications became more intense and widespread. For this reason, the Special Branch had to keep a very vigilant eye on the devel­opments. Most of the Punjab MPAs and MNAs were also members of the local bodies in their home districts, holding powerful and prestigious offices of Chairmen and Mayors.
Although the elections were to be held in November 1987, I initiated election studies and surveys in the very beginning of the year. I called fre­quent meetings of my district officers, even down to the level of ASIs, and briefed them on how to carry out surveys of election prospects and then com­pare them with the previous voting patterns. They were to list the probable voting strength of thousands of likely contestants, beginning from the ward or village and going up to the district, and then give the bases of their strength, e.g., family background, property, wealth, biradari (clan or tribe), religious influ­ence, political groups on local or party basis. The sur­veys were neces­sary as the plans for the maintenance of public peace had to be pre­pared ac­cordingly. My officers considered it a daunting task but I explained that it would not be difficult if it was started from the small­est unit, say a ward or a village. Once that stage was completed, the remaining part was only a matter of calculations and identifying groups and their links.
A/Hameed, now the Director Research with the Special Branch, pre­pared well-designed forms for the exercise to make it a scientific study in­stead of the guess work that had been the practice in the past. The areas with possible law and order threats were indicated with maps and charts for the guidance of the law-enforcing agencies at the time of elections. The staff was advised to seek the assistance of the revenue staff (mainly patwaris) in the villages and the local bodies staff in towns and cities as they had the re­quired records.
Once the field officers completed surveys of the basic units, they be­came confident of their inferences. They found a definite pattern of how communities were under the influence and hold of their elders at various lev­els, with links of caste, creed, relations, vocations, friendships and enmi­ties. Some of my officers, after doing the basic surveys, sounded like politi­cal pundits. It took them little more time in working out the linkages and pat­terns in every district and town, along with possible threats to law and or­der. The same data was consoli­dated on divisional and provincial level.
By June 1987, I had large volumes in my office with data for the entire province. With some hard work and imagination at the re­gional and head office levels, we also worked out the situation in the constituencies of the National Assembly and the Provincial Assembly as the area and voters over­lapped. It became a very useful study for political and administrative pur­poses.
Our study, carried out well in time, became useful on many occa­sions. Now looking back with the wisdom of hindsight, I can say that the general elections of 1988 and 1990 might not have taken place at all if we had not done the study for the elections to the local bodies in 1987. It gave the neces­sary courage and confidence to the ruling elite at the right moment. Other­wise, the democratic setup might have been wound up long ago. Some inter­esting events and the perceptions of the most important persons in the coun­try will be related elsewhere in the book. For the present, I shall confine my­self to events leading up to the local bodies elections.

Proposal for indirect election. Ch. Anwar Aziz, the Federal Minister for Local Bodies, had pre­pared his own assessment of the likely outcome. His conclusion was that the elections to the local bodies would be swept by the PPP and the Muslim League would be left with no political strength at the grassroots. After a presentation by him in March 1987, the federal cabi­net decided that the mode of the lo­cal bodies elec­tions should be changed to the benefit of the ruling party. It was suggested that the elections for the Union Councils might be held on adult franchise and then the elected mem­bers would in turn vote for the District Councils and the Municipal Corpora­tions. He had practically proposed the revival of the Basic Democracies sys­tem of Ayub Khan under which the elections were indirect to the tiers above Union Councils up to Provincial and National Assemblies and even to Presi­dency.
Mian Aslam Hayat, Director, Intelligence Bureau, discussed the pro­posal of indirect elections with me. I told him that it would not work at all. The PPP would not participate and instead would launch an agitation. He disagreed on the boycott scenario but agreed with me that people would reject the indirect elections and it could be fatal to the fragile democratic set-up.

To thwart what Anwar Aziz had gotten approved from the federal cabi­net, I worked on my own plan. I briefed Haji Akram, Home Secre­tary, and then Anwar Zahid, Chief Secretary, on the likely scenario in the light of my election studies. The local bodies elections were legally required to be held on non-party basis. Even if party-based, the people vote on local considera­tions in such elections, cutting across the party lines. Who­ever would be elected would like to go with the government. Then, why spoil the existing and accepted system, which in any case would help the ruling party? The neurotic fear that the PPP would sweep was not justified by the ground reali­ties. The participation of PPP and MRD would help legitimize even the 1985 non-party general elections. In case of indirect elections, both would start an agitation and there would be a serious law and order problem. Both Anwar Zahid and Haji Sahib agreed with me.
All three of us then discussed the scenario with Ghulam Haider Wyne, who had good understanding of such issues. He agreed totally with us. The Prime Minister and the Chief Minister were in London that day. Wyne was so concerned that he briefed Mian Sahib in London on phone. He also agreed and promised to persuade the Prime Minister as well. There was urgency because the Prime Min­ister was to announce the election mode during his address at a local bodies convention in Lahore immediately after his return from London.
The Chief Secretary asked me to go to Islamabad and brief Anwar Aziz also. Salman Farooqui was the incharge of the local bodies matters in the Prime Minister House. He had been himself Local Bodies Secretary in Sindh and understood the implication. I first dis­cussed the subject with him. Iqbal Junejo, Joint Secretary in the Prime Minister giving House, also joined us. I had prepared a position paper on the subject. Salman and Iqbal agreed with me totally. All three of us then went to see Anwar Aziz. Sartaj Aziz joined our discussions as an expert. Anwar Aziz initially stuck to his guns but started giving ground under the force of my arguments.
Sartaj Aziz said, “The whole exercise is to improve the local bodies system and create linkages among villages, Union Councils and District Council for proper rural development. Why not do it?”
“You are absolutely right, sir,” I replied. “But you can improve the system only if you stay in power. The proposed amendments are going to be misunderstood as a political machination to manipulate the results. All po­litical forces outside the government will reject your proposals however well-intended. As a se­rious breakdown of law and order will take place, you may lose your government. Is it necessary to make all the improve­ments in one go? You may continue to change and improve after con­solidating your pres­ent fragile position.” I spoke in a very direct man­ner.
He was not convinced but Anwar Aziz came around. “Is there any harm if the constituencies are made smaller?” he asked. “No harm in reduc­ing the size of the constituencies,” I replied rather grudgingly as too small constituencies make election process too personal and dirty, “but the system may not be tink­ered with, at least for the time being.” I had done my duty and did not pursue my arguments any further.

Routing PPP or the system itself? The Prime Minister, after reaching Rawalpindi from London, flew the next day to Lahore, along with Anwar Aziz and Salman Farooqui. Farooqui told me that he had given my paper to the Prime Minister and he had agreed that the announcement of indirect elec­tions would be counter-productive. Anwar Aziz expressed his annoyance that I had spoiled his “brilliant” scheme to rout the PPP. I smiled and said, “Sir, I do not want the whole political system to be routed.” Junejo an­nounced that the elections to the lo­cal bodies would be held in accordance with the pre­vailing system, to the chagrin of Anwar Aziz and many other Muslim Leaguers. Most of them held Haji Akram and me responsible for giv­ing “the wrong advice” to Nawaz Sharif.
Malik Naeem and Siddique Kanju, two prominent MNAs of the ruling party, came to my of­fice in the Special Branch and protested quite strongly that I had put something very wrong into the ears of Mian Sahib. I accepted full responsibility for all that had happened and suggested that they should rid themselves of the baseless fear and face PPP boldly. “If the PPP won at places, even then you would be the gainers as it would help strengthen the political system.”
Then I elaborated my thinking. The opposition tends to provoke while a good government acts or reacts in a cool and fair manner. The opposition projects itself as larger than life while a good government reacts sagaciously and boldly, with calculated measures based on legal and moral values. Fear, paranoia, and neurosis on either side would spoil matters. “You need hard facts and clear perception to face the future,” I concluded.
At that time, most of the important functionaries were worried unduly about the outcome and were losing heart without any reason. This was not the first time that I noticed such behaviour among the important persons in a government. Bhutto and his func­tionaries had acted in the same manner in 1977. Ayub Khan and Yahya Khan also lost nerve and over-reacted when the test came. The reason for handling the 1983 MRD movement ruthlessly and callously in Sindh was in the same vein. In fact, most governments be­come blind and weak when they are face-to-face with the opposition as their nightmare is always that they may lose the privileges and prestige of being in government.
I have seen governments making either over-optimistic or ex­tremely pessimistic assessments of the coming events. When feeling weak, they eas­ily succumb to the temptation of using their coercive authority im­mediately and thoughtlessly. Only a wise and bold ruler would exercise re­straint and responsibility in the use of state authority. He would use his pow­ers only when justified by laws and moral norms. The fear of losing power drives one crazy. That is true also of bureaucrats holding important posi­tions. Most of them are paranoid about losing their authority and, to save it, they overuse it very crudely and ultimately pave way for their own ouster.
Dr Safdar Mahmood, wizened by his deep study of history, always ad­vised Nawaz Sharif to win friends, not make adversaries. His stan­dard pre­scription was that rod should be used sparingly and only where very essential. He also advised Mian Sahib to hold the local bodies elections on time and ac­cording to the old system to avoid any sus­picions and to ensure acceptance by the people.

Mian Sahib had to be kept on track as he was under tremendous pres­sure from his own cabinet and the MPAs, who were all afraid of losing the elections. PPP struck fear in their hearts, though the party was already at an ebb after the failure of its ill-timed “Doves of Peace” campaign.
My friend, Malik Saleem Iqbal, a provincial minister then, dis­puted my assessments most strongly while having a walk with me in the Model Town Park. He was reflecting the views of at least half of the cabinet. The impor­tant politicians around the Prime Minister worked on him and he too started having cold feet. It was, however, very difficult for Junejo to wriggle out of his public announcement. I came to know later that somebody with a wag­ging tongue put it in his ear that he had been mislead by me as I had my real sympathies with the PPP!
The Prime Minister assigned Iqbal Ahmad Khan, his Law Minis­ter and the Secretary General of the Muslim League, to find out the facts. He might have found it further disturbing as by now even Nawaz Sharif was suf­fering from doubts about the outcome! The Chief Minister was depend­ing on my assessments of the positive outcome while everyone around him was pointing in the other direc­tion.
A special meeting of the Punjab cabinet was called, with Iqbal Ahmad Khan present, to discuss the local bodies elections. I briefed the cabinet for almost an hour with very strong and sometimes senti­mental arguments. I even warned that wriggling out of a public commitment now would be fatal and the government would lose its credibility. I was more candid and frank than perhaps required, and said, “Have the courage to face facts. In a recent by-election to the National Assembly in Khanewal district, the PPP candidate got only 18% votes in a free and fair atmosphere. In local bodies elections, party considerations will be the least important. PPP will be foolish even to participate. It will lose its national impact and will get hogged down in mu­halla poli­tics. You should take advantage of it and let the democratic proc­ess grow. PPP has much less voting strength than its capacity for agita­tion. Even that has been handled by Mian Sahib’s sagacity quite suc­cessfully.” I spoke the last sen­tence with great emphasis and it had the desired effect. Ghulam Haider Wyne supported me vigorously, others followed him and the stage was set. Haji Akram later said, “Your effective speech has ensured the elections.” It was all for the democratic system.

It was not all-clear yet, however. Gen. Zia and Gen. Akhtar Ab­dur Rahman came to Lahore on their way back from Quetta. They wanted a briefing right at the Lahore airport on the law and order im­plications of the local bodies elections. I was ready with all facts and figures, including the number of clashes and casualties in 1979 and 1983 local bodies elections.
Gen. Akhtar was under an erroneous impression that those elec­tions had been absolutely peaceful and without any incidents as they had been held un­der the martial law. He feared that the local bodies elections without a mili­tary cover might cause a blood bath and throw the country into chaos, even civil war. I tried to convince him that there was no danger of any large-scale disturbances. The voters were spread thinly into small and numerous con­stituencies. The major po­litical leaders would not take out any big pro­ces­sions or hold large public meetings. The clashes, if any, would be at per­sonal levels and the po­lice could handle them. There was, therefore, no danger of law and order breakdown at all. He was not much convinced. He believed that the Punjab might behave but Sindh would burst out into a con­flagration. I told him that people behaved more peacefully in a democratic atmos­phere as it was their own government and administration. He did not agree. “I don’t understand. How is that? I think martial law gives better law and order.”
“Sir, the law and order depends on the attitude of the people,” I began. “Under martial law, they are always angry and reacting. In a democratic dis­pensation, they can express their anger and then relax. The attitude condi­tions their behaviour. People stone the government buses and traffic lights although these are only for their own benefit. Why? Because they see them as symbols of the hated government. People get crazy and behave strangely if their grievances are not heard. At present there is no such problem.”
While trying to explain my point of view, I forgot that I was talk­ing to the Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff. When I realized it half way through, it was too late but I tried to placate him without compromising on my point of view. “Democracy is just a treatment for the people’s mad­ness. However, it is only a comparative statement. Martial law may be good at times. Sorry, sir, I have nothing against martial law.”
He felt uneasy but changed the subject. “Would you need any assis­tance from the armed forces during the elections?”
I promptly said, “No, sir, I don’t think so. The police can handle it.”
“All right, take strict measures and be careful,” he said, half con­vinced. He talked to the President and the Chief Minister separately and then called me. “Here is a very over-confident and over-optimistic police officer,” he told them. “He thinks law and order will be no problem.” Zia smiled and the two generals left for Islamabad.
After the departure of the President, Mian Sahib patted me warmly, thanked me and left in his car. I did not understand why he thanked me. I could not find out even later. There must have been some dif­ference of opinion on some point and my arguments might have gone in his favour. Anyway, I was happy to have substantially reduced, if not fully removed, the neu­rotic fears of the two top gener­als.
In 1992, when I was IGP Punjab, I got a comparative study carried out about the four local bodies elections from the law and order point of view. The clashes, conflicts, fights, injuries and casualties during the two local bodies elections held in a democratic set-up (1987 and 1991) were much less than the two under martial law (1979 and 1983). In another study in 1992, it was found that clashes and casualties during the political, labour and student disturbances were many times more during the martial law than in the demo­cratic period, contrary to the general belief that law and order was better during military rule. (The only exceptions were the sectarian clashes but then there was a great difference in available resources. (This has been explained in the chapter, “Sectarian protection to criminals.”)

Under dark clouds. As my right eye was giv­ing me trouble, I had to go to the U.S. for an operation before the date of the local bodies elections. While I was in Manchester on my way back, my cousin, Ghulam Sarwar, in­formed me on phone that Haji Akram had been transferred from the post of Home Secretary to a less important position. There was some talk, coming from the Presidential quarters that I would also be shifted. I asked Sarwar to get more information and let me know in Manchester as I shall follow my plan and would not return before November 8.
He later told me that various elements had led Gen. Zia to form a view that Haji Akram and I were openly against him and that I had a soft corner for the PPP. Both of us were believed to have misled the Chief Minister. We were suspected to have also cornered the Prime Minister through Nawaz Sharif into making a public commitment on local bodies elections out of which he could not come out. The local bodies elections, in their assessment, would now go in favour of the PPP because of all this mischief by “the two villains.” One had been sidelined while the other would be dumped on his return.

I returned on November 8 while there were still about three weeks to go before the local bodies elections. I met Aslam Khan and, through him, Dr Basharat Elahi, brother-in-law of the President. (Aslam Khan is a business partner of Dr Basharat since their Uganda days.) I convinced them that the holding of local bodies elections on the non-party pattern already given by the President would strengthen the political setup, a gift of the General himself. In fact, I had tried to support the General’s system by blocking the changes proposed by Ch. Anwar Aziz. It was wrong to suggest that I had opposed him.
Both of them were convinced by my arguments. They cleared my posi­tion during a dinner with the Gen­eral the same evening. The President de­ferred any action against me till he saw the results of the local bodies elec­tions. He was very angry that Haji Akram and I had misled Nawaz Sharif and now every­body was trapped into holding the elections. Like most rulers, he too was paranoid and had a blurred vision. It needs the courage of con­viction to see things as they really are. It was incredible that the President, with all avail­able resources of the country at his disposal, could not make an accurate ap­preciation that a humble man like me had done with my own ef­forts.
I found Nawaz Sharif also worried and nervous. He would not warm up on my hopeful scenarios during the meetings but was grace­ful enough not to stop me from speaking. I could see that during my absence, the doomsayers had frightened him and held him responsible for the risky decision. He was obviously under great pressure.

In my absence, the bureaucracy, led by Aminulla Chaudhry, the Local Bodies Secretary, had come out with its coercive prescription of disqualifying the undesirable candidates before, during and after the elections. I knew it would vitiate the whole process and lead to bitter­ness, rejection, boycotts and agitation but the neurosis was very wide­spread. Being under suspicions of all kinds, I had lost some weight and felt defensive. Still I did not lose heart.
Then came a break. Some evidence was collected to show that Mian Shuja-ur-Rahman, Mayor of Lahore, was soliciting PPP support and, through banners and pamphlets, was calling himself “Awam Dost” (People’s Friend, the code name for PPP candidates to avoid disqualification). His opponents in the Muslim League itself had done the mischief. He had been the Mayor with the active support of the President himself and was bitterly opposed to the PPP. Dubbing him as a PPP man was obviously most ridicu­lous and would not stand the judicial scrutiny for a minute It would also not go well with the President. However, preparations to disqualify him were being made. The nemesis was coming full circle, as Mian Shuja-ur-Rahman himself had become the Mayor in 1979 after the disqualification of dozens of councilors having PPP leanings. But disqualifying him in 1987 on similar cooked-up grounds was very much out of place.
This case helped me regain my vitality and confidence. I suc­cessfully convinced Nawaz Sharif of the ridiculous contradictions in it. He directed Hafeezulla Ishaq, Commissioner Lahore, not to proceed against Mian Shuja. I also suc­ceeded in persuading him to drop many other glaringly false cases. I wanted justice and fairplay to prevail and bring good name to the whole proc­ess.
Once the other Commissioners came to know that I had persuaded the Chief Minister not to go for disqualification in some of the cases, they were ringing me up to save them too from the unpleasant task. I tried to persuade the Chief Minister not to use the device of disqualifi­cation at all as that was going to be unpleasant as well as counter-pro­ductive but my argument did not cut much ice with him. The fears and phobias of his colleagues and pa­trons were not easy to cast off.
A meeting was held on November 27 at the residence of the Commis­sioner, Lahore, to discuss the issue and all its legal implica­tions. The Advo­cate General Punjab also attended. The Commission­ers of Rawalpindi and Faisalabad also rang up there and consulted the Advocate General about the fate of the action if challenged in the High Court. They were not in favour of such action but hesitated to stick their neck out for fear of annoying the Chief Minister.
The Secretary Local Bodies insisted that action must be taken as pro­vided under the law. My view was that the provision had become redundant after the lifting of the martial law and the restora­tion of political parties. It would not stand the judicial scrutiny and would create only unnecessary un­pleasantness.
This cool and fair view could be adopted only if the Government was sure of favourable outcome. The doomsayers had shaken the confidence of the ruling oligarchy al­ready during my absence abroad. It was an ugly scenario emerging from a phobia, reinforced by bureaucrats, who always play safe by dancing to the tunes of the rulers. The frightened oligar­chy was simply going berserk and could not appreciate that the PPP was go­ing to commit a bigger mistake by diluting its strength through participation in the local bodies elections than it did by boycotting the general elections of 1985.
The meeting at the Commissioner House ended at about 11 p.m. It was decided that there would be large-scale disqualifi­cations just a day before the elections to avoid the intervention of courts. Some thought that it was going to be “a very clever move” while I was afraid that the price of cleverness would be widespread disturbances. I was certain that the people would react very strongly and there would be a serious law and order problem. I recalled my briefing to Gen. Akhtar Abdur Rahman and his fears about public distur­bances. The emerging scheme of things was also morally revolting. I left worried, visualizing the ugly scenario three days later on the fateful day of the elections.

Horrible scenario. In that state of mind, I was going on the Canal Bank Road on my way home to Faisal Town. A/Hameed was with me. He feared that there might be some conspiracy to sabotage the entire democratic system. He painted such a horrifying scenario of the likely repercussions that I de­cided to see the Chief Minister immedi­ately, despite being so late in the night, and asked my driver to turn on the Ferozepur Road towards his Model Town residence. I met Mian Shehbaz Sharif and told him that I wanted to discuss with the Chief Minister something of great and immediate impor­tance.
“Why at this time?” he asked.
“Because it is immediate and important, sir,” I replied to enhance sus­pense.
He went in and woke up his elder brother from his sleep. The Chief Minister appeared displeased as well as worried on my call at an odd time. I was prepared for that.
“Is everything all right?” he asked in a worried tone.
“No, sir,” I replied. “I see serious trouble when you disqualify 50/60 PPP candidates from Lahore tomorrow or a day after. The elec­tions might be held in comparative peace but the day after the elec­tions the entire PPP lead­ership, now scattered all over the country, will gather in Lahore to ex­ploit the issue. How will you face the entire concentrated strength? They will have a good cause to agitate. If the elections are held for those seats later on a court verdict, the PPP will carry the day. There is another important as­pect: It is also basically immoral. Please don’t disqualify such a large num­ber and in­vite trouble for yourself.” I said all that in one go, half-frightened myself, as everybody seemed to have turned against my views by that time.
He got my point immediately and said that he would hold a meet­ing the next morning.
“That would be too late and some of the Commissioners might is­sue the mandatory legal notices before that.”
“What to do then?” he asked.
“Please tell the Secretary Local Bodies to stop all Commissioners from any further action till the final decision is taken in the meeting tomorrow,” I requested him as if asking for a personal favour. He di­rected the Secretary Local Bodies accordingly and fixed the meeting for the next day at 10 a.m.

“Laws are meant to be used.” The Chief Secretary, the Secretary Local Bodies, the Commissioner Lahore and me, attended the meeting. The Chief Secretary agreed with my perception and views. The Commis­sioner, being discreet, remained silent. He did not want to give an impres­sion that he was not prepared to face an unpleasant situation as that could cause annoyance to the Chief Minister. I un­derstood his circumspection. The Secretary Local Bodies was very vocal. He was all for a large-scale ac­tion and against taking any risks. In my view, the risk was in taking action, not in inaction. I repeated all my earlier arguments that the PPP was not in any position to win, nor, for that matter, any other party, including the Mus­lim League. Who­ever won would join the government party.
The Secretary Local Bodies argued, “There is no point in having a law if it is not to be used.”
I said, “It is a bad law to begin with. Even if it was a good law in a non-political environment of 1979, it was out of place in 1987. You have a good law that a murderer is to be hanged. But you don’t hang somebody if he does not commit a murder. There is no justification in ap­plying a law, which will raise avoidable problems and bring bad name to the Government. The ruling party is going to win. I am saying this with full responsibility as the Special Branch chief. Let us not blacken the face of the slowly reviving political process.” I said all that with great emphasis.
Mian Sahib said, “Chaudhry Sahib, only the day after tomor­row shall we know the actual outcome. Now the die is cast and we cannot do any­thing. Let us use the law sensibly and carefully. There should be very few disqualifications in any local body and that too in very glaring and genuine cases. Please instruct all accordingly.” Addressing the Chief Secretary while giving instructions for further action, he wound up the meeting. I felt ex­tremely happy on having saved the system according to my perception and convictions.
The Commissioner Lahore thanked me most profusely the mo­ment we were out of the meeting.
“Why didn’t you speak in my support in the meeting?” I asked him.
“He might have thought that I was chickening out,” he replied sincerely and shrewdly.
This “might” indicates a serious problem with most of the public ser­vants because so many ruthless screenings on baseless charges have rendered them extremely insecure and totally dependent on the goodwill of the chief executive. Then there is the constant threat of whimsical transfers that dis­rupt very seriously ones family life. No wonder, most of them try to imagine what will please the Chief Minister, not what will be correct for him.
The paranoid political rulers feel even more insecure than the public servants, when they face a challenge from their adversaries, without analyzing its strength. Their first impulse is to succumb to the temptation of using the strong arm of administration rather than follow their own political instincts, vision and influence, which have ultimately much more strength. The mili­tary dictators also develop all kinds of neurotic fears. (When Zia talked of “one rope and two necks,” he was only ex­pressing his inner fears.) The poli­ticians in opposition also become neurotic when, under military or civil­ian rule, they become apprehensive of the misuse of the state machinery against them. I have seen that fear, real or imagined, plays the most crucial and dan­gerous role in pollut­ing the entire social and political atmosphere. The rulers and their ri­vals prefer the dark shadows of their fears instead of the shining light of realities. In their desperation to allay their fears, they twist laws, promote criminality, crucify truth and take refuge in the shrewd­ness of crooked and vicious officials. They fail to realize that success lies ul­timately not in tricks but truth.

The reward for vindication? The local bodies elections were held peacefully and fairly on November 30, 1987, without complaints of rigging or crookedness. The results were a mixed bag. The majority went to the ruling party, with impressive gains by the PPP. The PPP-aligned candidates even got majority in Murree, Hasan Abdal, Nankana Sahib and some other places in the Punjab. The fears of Gen. Zia, Gen. Akhtar Abdur Rahman, Malik Naeem, Siddique Kanju, Ch. Anwar Aziz, Malik Saleem Iqbal and most of my bureaucratic colleagues were belied. I was finally vindicated. However, on the ba­sis of my long experience, I did not expect any thanks from anybody for having kept the ship on course against so many powerful typhoons. I was grateful to Allah Almighty that Nawaz Sharif followed my ad­vice and his trust in me did not fail him. I, in fact, prayed most fer­vently that I might not be hurt by the jealousies of those who were proven false. But, excited by the results, they were too busy in running about to consolidate their success.
The only one to express his profound appreciation of my analysis was Malik Saleem Iqbal. “But for you, the local bodies elections would not have been held. If held at all, the indirect method would have been adopted. That would have meant total rejection and disturbances, leading to the winding up of the whole political set-up. The disqualifications at a large scale would also have blackened our face. Well done! Very well done!” I felt very happy when he paid me such glowing compliments. His next words were, however, very dis­quieting. “You have a very good political mind.”
“No, no, I did not do all that for any political considerations,” I said, feeling hurt on being misunderstood. “It was an act of faith. It was not playing politics when I urged that administration should not be in­volved and used for political objectives. I only suggested that politics should be con­ducted on political lines and the administrative methods of disqualification must not be used. I gave you people courage through my factual analysis. Why do you call that politics? Am I a poli­tician because I advise you not to walk into administrative snares and traps?”
“I meant it as a compliment. Please don’t misunderstand.” He apolo­gized and added that Gen. Zia had the same view about me.
“All right, I’ll take it as a compliment from you but without rein­force­ment from Zia-ul-Haq,” I protested against his additional comment. “He is President as well as the Chief of Army Staff, a strange combination, to say the least. I am sure he deems himself a profes­sional soldier who has never played any role in the politics of the country. But then he has the cheek to call the office of the Presi­dent of Pakistan as non-political. I am serving you politicians while he is dictating you. Still you call me a politician.”
He simply complimented me again on my work, making me feel sorry that perhaps I had outpoured more than required.

Rush to grab the spoils. The second phase of the local bodies elec­tions was the grabbing of the powerful and prestigious offices of the Chair­men of District Councils, Municipal Committees and Town Committees and the Mayors of the Municipal Corporations. Everybody was crazy for the spoils. Prime Minister Junejo wanted his loyalists to be placed in powerful positions, forgetting that the local bodies were technically non-political or­ganizations and the subject was purely provincial. He was out to consolidate his position as the President of the Muslim League and the Prime Minister. He intended to call a convention of the newly elected councilors and an­nounce a party policy for the elec­tion of the heads of the local bodies.
Muhammad Khan Junejo and Nawaz Sharif fell out with each other on this issue. Each wanted to control the local bodies to the ex­clusion of the other. The tension between the Prime Minister and the Chief Minister was visible and became a subject for press comments. As it was a purely provin­cial subject, the Chief Minister was in a much better position to influence the outcome. So, the Prime Minister later thought it better to operate through the Chief Minister.
Soon after the election results, the Chief Secretary and I were invited to a breakfast meeting with the Chief Minister. We found there some of his very close political associates also. They were discussing very keenly the means and methods of foisting their favourites as chiefs in all local bodies. The administration was to them a readily available instrument and was to be used effectively. (The local bodies were, in any case, at the mercy of the Deputy Commissioners and Commissioners and hence they could play the decisive role.) They did not feel even the need for asking the views of the Chief Secretary or mine. Perhaps they were not even aware of our presence. In their view, the influence of the administration was the most natural and justified weapon available to them.
Towards the end of the meeting, they finally bothered to ask our views. The Chief Secretary asked me to speak. I was already feeling unhappy on the likely misuse of the administration and the consequent unnecessary bitterness that it would create. I took the position that the candidates backed by the Muslim League had won in most cases. In the second phase, it would not be wise to create conditions for an un­necessary party infighting. “Why not cre­ate conditions where majori­ties are allowed to make their own choices, which are then adopted by the provincial leadership? They are all your men, sir. Let the man with the maximum votes become the chief. Why create bad feelings by using the influence of the administration? I have a general idea that your favourites would carry the day in most of the places without the un­pleasant intervention of the administration. Let us evolve healthy political traditions.” I put across my point of view quite forcefully.
The Chief Secretary supported me fully and undertook to get re­ports from his officers about the actual position of various aspirants. But the advi­sors wanted the Chief Minister to nominate their favour­ites first and then the administrative machinery to ensure their election, whether they had the ma­jority support or not. They were very keen to use the position of the Chief Minister to their local political ad­vantage. The meeting was, however, post­poned to the following week for the Chief Secretary to get reports on various aspirants, to the great annoyance of the political advisors present, except Ghulam Haider Wyne.
The Chief Secretary was happy on my proposal but another shrewd bu­reaucrat felt uneasy. He took me aside after the meeting and said, “If your proposal is accepted, the administration will lose all its importance and lever­age. Nominating a local body head is the right of the admini­stration. If poli­ticians are allowed to do it on their own, they will be­come too confident and powerful and the administration will be pushed to the back seat. You are being too political. Please do not press your point of view in the next meet­ing.” His words shocked me. Was I being “too political” by suggesting that the administration should not be used for political purposes? It was a very strange and perverse thought but the officer believed genuinely that he was speaking purely professionally!
There was another view also. The politicians attending the meet­ing also got hold of me and tried to persuade me not to pursue my “dangerous” pro­posal of allowing genuine majority to assert itself. The politicians wanted interference by the administration to their own advantage while the admini­stration was keen to interfere to keep its power leverage. Politics really makes strange bedfellows.
The Chief Secretary brought his survey reports in the next meeting. In most of the local bodies, the persons whom the Chief Minister wanted to see as their heads also enjoyed the majority. It was decided not to inter­fere in those places. But in Jhang, Khanewal, Lahore, Rawalpindi and a few other places, the favourites were in need of props. I was of the view that nothing like that should be done at all but I was not listened to this time and had to become quiet. I was content that I had been able to make my humble contri­bution at least to reduce the area of the administrative interference in a politi­cal issue. The local bodies elec­tions were legally and technically supposed to be non-political. But all elections by definition have to be political. They were called “non-political” to pave way for administrative interference and the exercises of disqualifications. I reflected how mercurial the power hun­gry oli­garchy was. They had been mortally afraid of facing the elections and now, after success, were strutting about like cocks. Nawaz Sharif had at least the grace to listen to reason and act accordingly in most of the cases, if not all.

Greed has no limits. The next stage was even worse. The politi­cal stalwarts around Nawaz Sharif planned to win over the PPP councilors in various local bodies. The matter was discussed in a cabinet meeting where I was also present. The entire cabinet sup­ported the view. The only honour­able exception was again Ghulam Haider Wyne. To me the entire exercise appeared futile and inappro­priate. Some of the wise men even advised that the PPP councilors should be disqual­ified if they were not amenable!
I was also asked to give my views. I opposed the plan but not on grounds of political or moral impropriety as that would not have cut any ice with them. I took a totally different position to restrain them. I said, “It will be unwise to win them over. They must not be accepted even if they wanted to come over. They are in most of the places in minority and in opposition. They must stay as a symbol of their being a minority to belie the claim of the PPP that it is the majority party in the country. The Muslim League could prove to the world that it is the real majority party. Please let them stay as an irrefuta­ble proof of their being a minority.” I could see sur­prise on the faces all around me. It was a very unusual reasoning but I was trying to pro­mote political graces according to my own perception. I was speaking at the spur of the moment, without having done any deep thinking or introspection, but felt pleased with my own argument. The plan for win­ning over the PPP councilors was dropped.
The local bodies finally started functioning in a peaceful atmosphere. However, the ruling oligarchy, cocky and over-confident, was suffer­ing from a surfeit of victory that was later to invite its own nemesis. The MRD and PPP suffered a serious political setback. Their defiance changed to nor­mali­zation and stagnation, with little threat to law and order, but they re­tained their voting strength. It was a long way from the bitterness after 1983 movement to a peaceful and placid political atmosphere.

With the army having returned to its professional duties, the poli­ticians were back to their follies. However, the politicians, both in power and op­position, had contributed, wittingly or unwittingly, to the healing of the fes­tering wounds. These were the blessings of a politi­cal system in spite of the kind of politicians that we have. They can always improve. If not, they can be cleansed by successive elections. Not all elections are spotless but merits outweigh the demer­its. The politicians must never shirk elections nor should they pollute them out of paranoia or neurosis. Fear is the father of all evils. If they face reality, people will respect them even if they lose. And they can always come back.
Democracy simply means willingness to relinquish power. Pakis­tan was created through an election and will stabilize if legitimacy of the gov­ernment is maintained through elections and a democratic sys­tem. The threats of regionalism can be overcome only by the will of the people, not the force of the army. Never show disrespect to the will of the people. Have faith in them. Go back to them as many times as necessary. They will never betray the country and will sacrifice all for it. They are its real custodians and guardians. Don’t arrogate to yourself what belongs to them. The collec­tive wisdom of the people is much superior to the self-styled heroes.