38

Towards modernization – and back
“There is nothing more difficult to take in hand, more perilous to con­duct, or more uncertain in its success, than to take the lead in the introduction of a new order of things.” This quotation from “The Prince,” the classic book by Niccolo Machiavelli, sums up what I faced in my efforts to introduce mod­ernization in the police.
Modernization was most urgently needed in restructuring the communi­ca­tions system and the office opera­tions of the police to allow for prompt ex­change of crime re­c­ords and information and the improvement of efficiency. Before it could be undertaken, the basic familiarization was needed at various levels. A/Hameed, Director, Research, in the Special Branch, had the exper­tise and the patience to look into the nuts and bolts and start work on the proj­ect.
I am not a technology buff but his master plan was not diffi­cult to un­derstand. Some of its clear and very practical objectives were:
a) to allow every police officer (from the IGP down to ASI) to be able to talk to any other officer at any time and anywhere in the province (ultimately in other provinces also if they had similar networks);
b) to transmit written messages instantaneously to every operational field unit (patrol units, mobile or on foot, investi­gating units, checkpoints, units on law and order duty, units on security duties);
c) to have electronic exchange of correspondence and information among all offices through fax and computer;
d) to increase office efficiency and control of paperwork through grad­ual increase in the use of computers at lower levels;
e) to preserve all records on microfilm and optical disks at the district level and its duplicates at provincial level;
f) to introduce modern office equipment of various types to reduce ex­penses and improve efficiency.
Anybody could suggest these objectives but the strongest point of the plan was that A/Hameed wanted the maximum value for money and talked of lakhs (hundreds of thousands) of rupees, instead of crores (tens of millions), for implementation of various phases. (He had already done some of these things in the Special Branch, at a very, very low cost.)
Some progress was made, despite many bureaucratic and proce­dural hurdles. Electronic exchanges (PABX) were installed in all dis­trict headquar­ters, with enough capacity to provide internal intercom facility to almost eve­rybody in the office who needed it. Personal computers were purchased to supply three to four units to every district office and more to other units, with quantities to be increased as utilization increased. A fax machine was in­stalled in every dis­trict and range office.
Much more was to be done. One proposal was to link all offices down to subdivisions through leased phone lines (often called “hot lines”). A/Hameed held a long meeting with senior officers of the Pakistan Tele­com­munications Corporation (formerly Telephone and Telegraph Depart­ment), supposedly the best experts in their field. When he outlined the ulti­mate ob­jectives of his project, they indicated their inability even to compre­hend it. (“It will be very complicated,” they moaned.) “Don’t worry about the com­plications,” A/Hameed, a self-taught layman with no formal back­ground of telecommunications, assured them. “Only provide us the leased lines and we shall manage the rest.” Even that could not be done at an af­fordable cost. With the leased phone lines being too expensive, A/Hameed planned an alter­native province-wide phone network for the internal use of the depart­ment, with practically no recurring costs.
A/Hameed faced a similar mind-set in the private sector. He held long meetings with senior executives of Paktel and Instaphone, then the only two companies operating cellular (or mobile) phone networks in the country. He pro­posed to each company that it should allocate a small percentage of the idle capacity of its trans­mitters and set up a closed network for the internal use of the police within the province. A police officer would be able to talk on his cellular phone to all on the police network but not to other subscrib­ers of the company. The phone company would charge the police a fixed monthly amount per phone irrespective of the number of calls made to and from it. (The police would either purchase or rent the phones.)
Everybody was to benefit. The police officers would be able to talk to their colleagues anywhere and anytime in the province. The police depart­ment would save the present uncontrolled charges for official local and long distance (trunk) calls and would instead pay a fixed (but far less) amount irre­spective of the number and duration of phone calls. And the cellular phone company would be getting substantial addi­tional revenue with its idle trans­mitter ca­pacity. In addition, it could also use the police model to set up simi­lar net­works for other government departments. The executives, who were sup­posed to jump at any idea that benefited their company, could not compre­hend the implications of the novel but basically very simple plan. The best they could offer was some discount on the standard charges. So much for the superiority of the private sector, which is supposed to be far more flexible and willing to accept new ideas, especially when it has the collaboration of foreign multinational corporations.
A/Hameed, though disappointed, applied his mind and soon came up with an alternative plan that was much better and far less expensive! It would provide almost the same facility as a cellular (mobile) phone but at little re­curring cost.

Learning from neighbours. Meanwhile, it was decided that a team of senior officers should visit the neighbouring countries with similar circum­stances to learn how their police departments were cop­ing with their prob­lems and what could be adopted or adapted usefully by us. The team, headed by Ch. Nazir Ahmad, Home Secretary, Punjab, included Khalid Latif, Di­rec­tor, Research and Development, Muhammad Abd al-Hameed, Director, Re­search and Reference, Spe­cial Branch, and Rafi Pervez Bhatti, Director, Pro­vincial Control Room. It visited Malaysia, Singapore, Sri Lanka, and Bangla­desh during February and March 1992, and studied their systems of com­put­eriza­tion, telecommunications and the maintenance of records. (It could not go to India due to a visa problem.)
All four countries had been British colonies and inherited similar police systems. However, they went into different directions after In­dependence. Singapore, the richest, went for the most expensive and sophisticated sys­tems. But money could not buy efficiency, integrated nationwide coverage and easy access to users even for a state of only three million people. For ex­ample, all data for vehicles was not avail­able at one place and there was no alternative way to get details about a vehicle from the central computer if its registration number was not known. (As if using fictitious number plates was impossi­ble!) The central database was not connected even with all po­lice posts in the island state, with an area less than that of a tehsil in the Punjab, because, as a police post incharge told A/Hameed, “It would cost too much money.”
The Malaysians were also on the same track, expecting money to solve all problems. Despite having spent a lot of it, they had connected only one-fifth of their districts and did not know when money for the rest would be available. And the data took 90 days to reach the central computer center! The adverse impact was also visible of the Malays being less hard working than the Chinese and a preference to Bumiputras (Sons of the Soil) in gov­ernment jobs.

Sri Lanka, despite having little resources, had two great achievements to show. A/Hameed visited their central telecommunications center that con­nected all parts of the country with the capital. He was delighted to see that the practicability of some of his own ideas had been con­firmed by their system. It was a foreign aid project, with everything supplied on a turnkey basis. Yet A/Hameed noted certain deficiencies. For example, there was just one phone to convey messages in emer­gencies to the top leadership, including the chiefs of the armed forces.
The second success was entirely their own. Their finger print bureau had made up for lack of money with ingenuity in computerizing the matching of fingerprints. Taking a very simple route, they had devel­oped four-digit codes for classifications of fingerprints and stored the data on a personal computer. The original prints were stored on micro­forms, which took about 95% less space than paper records.
On A/Hameed’s request, DIG Mahesan Selvaratnam, who was extraordinarily courteous and helpful, arranged for him an additional visit to the finger print bureau (while rest of the team was enjoying an excursion in Maldives) so that he could study its operations in greater detail. A/Hameed was convinced that we should take the Lankan route in maintaining finger print records at provincial as well as district level. It will not only be very effective but would also cost peanuts, only a few hundred thou­sands rupees.
During a briefing on the insurgency in the south, it was pointed out that one of its main causes was the control of the politicians on government jobs. The sifarish (recommendation) of MPs alone could ensure a job, not a candidate’s merit. The obvious result was extreme frustration among the educated and qualified young men and JVP, the Marxist organization behind the insurgency, exploited the situation. There is certainly a lesson for our MPAs and MNAs who want all recruitments in government departments only on their personal recommendations. They care more for their votes than the interests of the society.
While moving about in Colombo, A/Hameed was struck by the basic traffic problems of the capital. Very easy solutions to some of them occurred to him. He hopes for an opportunity some day to discuss them with the relevant authorities.

The Bangladesh police did not have to change its set-up after sepa­ration from Pakistan. The only difference was that it came directly under the Interior Ministry after the provincial Home Department disappeared. They have, however, introduced the commissioner­ate system in four largest cities, for which many of our police officers are still yearning.
After A/Hameed outlined his plan to modernize the telecommunications system of the Punjab police during a meeting of the team with the senior police officers, keen interest was expressed and he was asked to give more details about it. He offered not only to tell them everything but also help them in implementation if he could have more time. He would still love to go and do it if and when he can.
A visit to the Ansar Academy, near Dhaka, was very rewarding. It is a training center for volunteers who promote nation-building activities in their villages. The academy, in its sprawling complex, also trains men and women in various trades and skills so that they may earn a living on their own. Several hundreds of thousands of volunteers had been trained. A/Hameed very much wished to learn more about the Ansars so that he could prepare a plan for a similar organization.
About 300,000 rikshas (unofficially twice that number) cause a serious traffic problem in Dhaka. When a signal light turns green, they move in big waves, literally flooding the road ahead. But no political government can dare take them off the roads or even reduce their number because of the likely consequences. Another consideration is that it is the most economical and convenient mode of transport for the ordi­nary people.
The extremely warm reception to our team, better than it even dreamt of, showed how much love the Bangladeshis have for Pakistanis. Very senior officers received it at the airport. The best rest house in Dhaka, where usually foreign VVIPs stayed, was reserved for it. Two cars were on standby all the time. For almost every meal, they were the guests of somebody. They were treated as VIPs wherever they went, even in the Rajshahi jail! No wish was too much for the hosts. An unscheduled visit to the police academy near Rajshahi, in the extreme northwest of the country, was promptly arranged for the whole team when Khalid Latif, overwhelmed by nostalgia, wished to go there. And a very polite and efficient officer, Abdul Mannan, accompanied the team everywhere.
A/Hameed’s impression was that the Bangladeshis felt so close to us that they would like to physically lift their country and place it along our borders, if they could help it!

A/Hameed, on the basis of his own previous studies and his observations during the study tour, started work on an integrated computerization and tele­communications system and a system for records maintenance. There were several other projects he had planned. Facilities were to be provided for mi­cro­filming and duplication of all records of all police offices, including hun­dreds of thousands of finger prints. Hand-held tape-recorders, compact cam­eras and other useful but inexpensive items were also to be introduced for field duties. All these projects would have taken some time to complete but everything came to a standstill after I was trans­ferred. If I had some more time, the planned improvements would have been in place but that is life.

Guilt by association. One big project of A/Hameed had a better luck. In late 1993, Ijaz Ak­ram, after his promotion, was appointed DIG Telecom­munications. With a zest for modernization and a desire to impress his peers, he came to A/Hameed for some good ideas for his branch. A/Hameed, al­ways keen to give a helping hand for a good cause, suggested a computer-based telecom­munications network to replace the outmoded, waste­ful and un­reliable teleprinter system. He had already worked on it but was not getting any sup­port for its implementation after my transfer as IGP. He also urged the promotion of computer literacy at lower levels in district offices.
Ijaz Akram adopted the orphan baby with open arms and started work­ing on it earnestly. He also gave special em­phasis to widespread computer train­ing. With qualities of a good leader and a spirit of dedication, he was deter­mined to try to meet some of the most basic needs of the police.
While working on the communications network, his staff calculated that the police would be saving over 10 million rupees every year after implement­ing the plan! That would be in addition to tremendous improvement in op­erations, increase in efficiency and saving in manpower.

Somebody joked that after getting such a money-saving plan, the gov­ernment would be fully justified to keep on paying full salary to A/Hameed for the rest of his life even if he did not do any more work. The government probably heard it. In March 1994, he was suddenly made an Officer on Spe­cial Duty, which meant being paid for doing absolutely nothing! Since he had been re­cruited specifi­cally for the Special Branch, he could not be transferred and posted anywhere else. But who cares about niceties of law and rules.
A/Hameed was thrown into limbo for very petty considerations. Some police officers, who hated him for his brains and also wanted to be in the good books of Manzoor Ahmad Wattoo, the Chief Minister, ac­cused him of being a crony of Nawaz Sharif and urged his immediate transfer. The poor man was never close to Mian Sahib even when he was the Chief Minister, nor got any special benefits of any kind that cronies often get. As for passing on intelli­gence, not even any ordinary official brief, report or file of the Special Branch would go through him, not to speak of se­cret ones. The most secret docu­ments that came to him were newspapers and magazines! It was a different story that he could glean more intelligence from reading them than the entire Special Branch put together could manage on its own. On the other hand, for seven long years he devoted all his time and energy in studying the operational problems of the police and trying to find solutions for them. His pioneer work brought quite a revolution. But that doesn’t count at all when petty selfish­ness and phobias take supreme priority.
There was another and deeper reason. A/Hameed was a harbinger of improvement and modernization, which require a state of mind that is willing to accept new thoughts and new ways of doing things. But such a change is anathema to most bureaucrats. Always looking for precedents and feeling very secure in status quo, they are extremely reluctant even to agree to the need for a change, not to speak of accepting it. (While the purchase of com­puters for the Special Branch was being discussed in my office, a supposedly well-read and intelli­gent DIG asked, “What will be the benefit of computers? We are doing quite well even without them.”) The risk of failure or embar­rassment in trying new means and methods is too much for them. At the same time, they also hate their inadequacies to be exposed to others. There­fore, they want things to re­main just as they are. They dare not break the “wisdom barrier,” to use A/Hameed’s phrase, and are quite happy to waddle in the swamp of igno­rance. No wonder whatever had been built up painstak­ingly by him and by me started coming down after we were not there. And the demolition was carried out with vengeance.
The immediate reason why A/Hameed suffered was “a guilt by associa­tion,” which is the basis of many bad things the policemen do. Since he was very close to me and I was under clouds, some persons thought they could benefit by dubbing “the friend of an enemy” as an “enemy.” Never mind how much damage they would be causing to an innocent person and the police it­self. And the Chief Minister, without even the elementary formality of verify­ing the accusation from independent sources, took no time in falling into the trap. It is typical of our rulers. They never hesitate in be­lieving if they are told that there is even a remote possi­bility of somebody hurting them. Kan ke kachche (incredulous), as we say in Urdu. An observation of Aristotle gives very relevant advice. Somebody told him, “I have heard something against you from a reliable person.” The great sage replied, “Anyone who speaks against others cannot be a reliable person.”
To elaborate the point, A/Hameed loves to quote a story. A fox was seen running in panic. Some­body asked why. “Camels are being rounded up,” the fox explained. “But you are certainly not a camel,” she was told. “Of course, I know I am not,” the wise animal replied. “But suppose somebody in authority calls me a baby camel (bachcha-i-shutr) and orders me also to be caught. How can I then save myself?”