I have the distinction of having been, in 1960s, and in my 20s, editor, first of Daily Kohistan and then of Daily Mashriq, both second biggest among newspapers of their respective eras. I have also the ‘distinction’ of ending up as a pauper and heavily debt-ridden at the end of 1974 when I had to say goodbye to my
‘first-love profession’—journalism—and go into its sister-branch in the media—-advertising.
And that transformation occurred for two reasons.
Reason number one—my devotion and commitment to Bhutto, and the causes he championed in the second half of the 1960s.
Reason number two— my disenchantment— turned into antagonistic dislike— with the man whom I had visualized as a redeemer and messiah, and who (in my opinion) acted in a manner similar to all autocrats who wanted power for power’s sake.
In July 1971, I had met Bhutto in Fallettis Lahore to get a signed endorsement from him for a magazine I was to launch a month later.
In August 1974, I had to call upon the Late Sheikh Hafizur Rahman a respected bureaucrat (then DGPR Punjab) on his request.
“I have personal regard for you Mr Ghulam Akbar”, he had said: “But do you have to wait for Federal Security men to unearth opium from your house before you call it a day?”
I got the message.
A week later I appeared before the DC Lahore and signed the ‘ceasing of declaration’ for the publication of my weekly Ishtraak. I was to write two books on Bhutto.
One—just when the PNA movement had begun in April 1977. This was Jhoot Ka Peghambar. The opening lines of this book were: “I am guilty—I am guilty of having voted for Bhutto in 1970”.
Two—just when the election campaign of BB had begun in 1988. This was “He Was Not Hanged.” This was my apology for having used the worst kind of epithets for my former hero in my book whose title itself was a stunning indictment-APOSTLE OF FALSEHOOD.
On August 22, 1990 when BB was out of power, I interviewed her in Bilawal House.
During the interview, she asked me to do advertising campaign for her “in the forthcoming elections.”
“Unless you think you can’t afford to anger Nawaz and the Establishment that backs him,” she added.
“I am afraid of no one and certainly not of any consequences”, I replied: “But how can you trust a man who wrote such a nasty book against your father?”
“Precisely why I trust you. You are an honest man. You wrote what you felt and thought was right. I have read the translation of the essence of your chargesheet against my father, and I believe that you wrote that book because you loved my father, and wanted him to act differently. But politics is a cruel business. You are always at odds with even your ownself. You will do my campaign?” BB asked in the end.
“ I will”, I replied. “Even if I have to end up as a pauper.”
I did her campaign.
And I ended up as a pauper yet again. Mian’s government knocked me out of business. I was reduced to ground zero— to rebegin my journey upwards in 1993.
I have gone into these details just to throw light on the impact the word Bhutto had on my life.
He was a man of multiple paradoxes. Dr. Kissinger was right when he said: “Pakistan was too small a country for him.”
On the 4th of April 1979 Bhutto was hanged by General Zia ul Haque— after a petty incident or crime had been picked up to put him on trial. If his trial had to occur, Bhutto should have been tried for his misdoings as a national leader. But General Zia ul Haque wanted him dead. Because he knew, one of the two just had to die. General Zia ul Haque didn’t choose himself.
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