The Quaid’s unrealised vision

By Shamshad Ahmad


THE Quaid-i-Azam did not live long to personally steer Pakistan to be what he thought and aspired will be “one of the greatest nations of the world.” A full generation’s life-time is now behind us as an independent nation.

Many of us who belong to the first generation that saw and experienced the formative phase of Pakistan and its creation as a dream of its founding fathers, are indeed discomfited at the thought of what the Quaid-i-Azam had envisioned this country to be and where we actually stand today as a nation and as a state.

Within the first year of our independence which woefully happened to be the last of his life, the Quaid-i-Azam had presciently foreseen the coming events. He was disillusioned with the scarcity of calibre and character in the country’s political hierarchy which was no more than a bunch of self-serving, feudalist and opportunistic politicians who were to manage the newly independent Pakistan. Political ineptitude was writ large on the country’s horizon. The Quaid’s worries were not unwarranted.

Less than a month before his death, the Quaid addressed his last message to the nation on August 14, 1948, in which he reminded his people: “the foundations of your state have been laid and it is now for you to build and build as quickly and as well as you can.” On his own part, to quote Richard Symons, “in accomplishing the task he had taken upon on the morrow of Pakistan’s birth, Jinnah had worked himself to death, but had contributed more than any other man to Pakistan’s survival.” Indeed, he died by his devotion to Pakistan.

How many of us would remember or know that the Father of the Nation, Quaid-i-Azam Mohammad Ali Jinnah spent the last hours of his life on that fateful day of September 11, 1947, lying helplessly in an ill-fated army ambulance which broke down because of “engine trouble” at a lonely stretch of the road while bringing him from the Mauripur Air Force base to Karachi? Earlier on arrival from Quetta, no one from the government except his military secretary, Colonel Knowles, was present at the airport to receive him.

In her book, ‘My Brother,’ Mohtarma Fatima Jinnah recalled those agonising moments: “Nearby stood hundreds of huts belonging to the refugees, who went about their business, not knowing that their Quaid, who had given them a homeland, was in their midst, lying helpless. Cars honked their way past, buses and trucks rumbled by, and we stood there immobilised in an ambulance that refused to move an inch... We waited for over one hour, and no hour in my life has been so long and full of anguish.”

Does this painful recollection give us any food for thought or lead us to a feeling of regret and remorse? The answer lies in the barefaced contempt that we as a nation have shown to the Quaid’s vision of a “strong, stable and democratic” Pakistan and his ideals of peace, equality, tolerance, rule of law and human rights. Indeed, the Quaid’s vision of Pakistan remains unfulfilled. Fiftynine years after our independence, where do we stand as a nation and as a member of the comity of nations? Are we living in “a democratic and progressive” Pakistan as envisioned by its founders? Can we genuinely claim to be “upholders” of fundamental values of freedom, democracy and human dignity?

Have we been able to make Pakistan “a bastion of inner strength, political stability, economic self-reliance, social cohesion and national unity” that our leaders, over the years, have been show-casing to their people as their destiny?

Unfortunately, it is not in our nature to look into our souls and hearts. Self-righteous as we always are, we do not want to be reminded of our failures or shortcomings. Both as rulers and the ruled, we are totally averse to being regretful or repentant over our omissions and commissions. We don’t take anything to heart. Look, how shamelessly we swallowed in the tragedy of 1971, the worst that could happen to any country or a nation. We did not make it an “issue of our core” for we had other “core issues.” In any case, we are adept in giving up even on our core issues.

During the last year of his life, the Quaid-i-Azam addressed almost every segment of our society, including legislators, armed forces, civil servants, educationists, students, business community, workers, lawyers, and the public, providing guidelines on every aspect of national life for building up Pakistan into a modern and democratic state, while drawing their attention to what the nation expected of them.

In his address to Pakistan’s first Constituent Assembly on August 11, 1947, the Quaid reminded the legislators of their “onerous responsibility” of framing the future constitution of Pakistan and functioning as a full and complete sovereign body like a federal legislature in any parliamentary system.

It took our politicians nine years and several governments to frame our first constitution in 1956 which was abrogated in less than three years. Since then, we have had two constitutions — one promulgated by a Field Marshal president in 1962, and the other adopted by an elected legislature of the truncated Pakistan in 1973, which has since been amended 17 times leaving very little of the original text in its essence. It is a different constitution altogether. Meanwhile, our parliament has never been able to function as a “full sovereign body” as was envisioned by the Quaid. A cycle of frequent political breakdowns and long spells of military rule disabled our institutional framework unleashing a “culture of political opportunism, corruption and ineptitude.”

Among his known qualities of intellect and character, the Quaid-i-Azam also had a unique ability to see far ahead of his times. Addressing the Officers of the Army Staff College, Quetta, on June 14, 1948, he reminded the armed forces of their constitutional responsibilities, urging them “to understand the true constitutional and legal implications of their oath of allegiance” to the country’s constitution. He warned them not to meddle in the country’s politics. But ours is a sordid tale of broken oaths and military take-overs.

From the very beginning, power struggle deprived Pakistan of stable and functional political institutions, opening the door wide for military interventions. We got possessed by a “praetorian” curse. Military professionalism is gone with the wind. Constitutions have been violated in letter and spirit with impunity. Machiavellian “doctrine of necessity,” has been “sanctified” to become our political creed. Institutional paralysis has kept the whole nation disenfranchised.

The Quaid-i-Azam had a special place in his heart for Balochistan. He not only chose to spend the last days of his life in this province but was also mindful of the injustices of the colonial period that the people of Balochistan had suffered and inherited. He pledged to them equal position and political status within the polity of Pakistan. Unfortunately, despite its abundance in the wealth of natural resources, Balochistan remains the most backward province of the country.

A deep-rooted sense of deprivation and frustration has made its people highly suspicious of the policymakers in Islamabad. There is a strong underlying resentment in Balochistan (and in other provinces also) against inequitable distribution of power and resources, exploitation of the province’s natural wealth and unabashed use of military force.

The Quaid-i-Azam also had a prophetic message for our educationists. He told them that “the future of our state will and most greatly depend upon the type of education and the way in which we bring up our children as the future citizens of Pakistan.” Unfortunately, with misplaced priorities, we never focused on developing education as a pillar of nation-building which receives only a little fraction of our national attention and resources.

The Quaid believed in religious freedom and communal and sectarian harmony. He urged the nation to shun sectarianism. We, however, had a different approach. Intolerance and fanaticism led us to violence with no parallel anywhere in the world. Pakistan became the hotbed of religious extremism and obscurantism. Sectarianism has ripped our society apart. How painful it would have been for the Quaid to see his Pakistan burning from within.

He also believed in the importance of the role of women in nation-building as equal citizens of Pakistan. But women in our country continue to be denied their basic rights and fundamental freedoms, and are targets of gruesome forms of violence. Customary gender norms remain at the root of pervasive political, legal, economic and social inequalities that perpetuate women’s lack of access to resources, education, healthcare, employment, decision-making and participation in public life.

In his August 11, 1947, address to the Constituent Assembly, the Quaid had given us a roadmap of what he believed were the biggest challenges for the country’s government and lawmakers. According to him, the foremost duty of a government was “to maintain law and order and to protect the life, property and religious beliefs of its subjects. He also warned against the “evils” of bribery, corruption, blackmarketing, nepotism and jobbery which he wanted to be eradicated with an “iron hand.”

We as a nation have not only failed to grapple with these challenges but are in fact living remorselessly with these “evils” as an “integral” part of our society. Crime and corruption are rampant and galore in both scope and scale. Aversion to the rule of law is endemic. Poor governance is our national hallmark. There is constant erosion of law and order in the country.

Our Quaid gave us three principles: Unity, Faith and Discipline. We found them of little relevance to our daily lives and have been flouting them gleefully. In fact, we don’t believe in principles. We don’t even believe in the rule of law. Alas; the Quaid-i-Azam did not get to know us well. By nature, we are a nation of leaders, not followers.

Had the Quaid lived longer, he would have only been embarrassed to see how miserably we and our successive leaders have failed to live up to his vision of Pakistan, and to protect and preserve our national unity, sovereignty and territorial integrity. Alas, on our part, we are not even ashamed of what we have done to his Pakistan.

The writer is a former foreign secretary.


Reference: Editorial, DAWN. 25/12/06