In political sense, I don’t remember those days quite distinctly. I had been living quite a depoliticised life for about three years since I signed the ceasing of my Weekly Ishtraak’s declaration in October 1974, and joined my friend S.H. Hashmi’s Orient Advertising Pvt Ltd, first as Creative Director and subsequently as Head of its Lahore branch. I had not voted for any candidate in the disputed election held earlier in March before the launch of the PNA movement against the alleged rigging in the polls. Once an avowed and active Bhutto-supporter, my revolutionary Zeal had died in face of the rise of opportunists in the Bhutto era.
On the 30th of June 1977, I distinctly remember, I had remained in the Ad Agency’s annual meeting in the head office at Karachi. That had been the day the city had got submerged in one of the heaviest downpours in the country. We in the meeting behind the closed doors had been quite ‘gloriously’ unaware of the disaster the heavy rain had brought to the less privileged parts of the city. Only after the meeting when I had come out, had it dawned upon me that to reach my sister’s residence in the Nursery was a Herculean task. The road had been transformed into a river.
Three days later I alongwith Hashmi Sahib, my friend and boss, had flown to Lahore. We were to make a presentation to the Railways Minister Mr Mamtaz Bhutto on the 5th of July.
I was aware of the talks going on between Prime Minister Bhutto and the Opposition to arrive at some formula to end the chaos and the conflict. On the night of the 4th of July I went to bed after listening to an impassioned speech by ZAB, addressed primarily to America, whose Secretary of State Dr Kissinger had paid a visit to Pakistan to deliver a harsh message to ZAB in a diplomatically worded language.
I wish I had been politically more alive to what was happening. But because of my dashed hopes of a Bhutto-led revolution, my disenchantment with politics had been so complete that when I woke up in the morning of the 5th of July and listened to the News Bulletin my only reaction was that of a puzzled mind.
How could the Newscaster mention the name of ZAB as ex-Prime Minister? It took my senses some minutes to wake up fully and grow alive to what had happened during the hours I had slept. General Zia ul Haque, the Chief of Army Staff, had overthrown ZAB, promulgated Martial Law and taken control of the country, not for weeks, or months but for more than eleven years.
I think, for the interest of the readers of this piece, I should mention hear that I had started writing my bestseller JHOOT KA PEGHAMBAR (Apostate of Lies) on April 9 1977, and only its last chapter was to be written. General Zia ul Haque wrote the last chapter.
Today I am not the same man I was in July 1977. 41 years later I know more about facts and my appraisal of both ZAB and Zia has changed. I regard none of them as either a despicable villain or a superlative hero. Both of them were humans—both driven by human longings— both tainted by human weaknesses, but both great patriots. It is a paradox but Pakistan would not have been a nuclear power if there had been no Bhutto and no Zia.
The Power Game Is Such A Cruel Game.
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