A brief history of our left: Part - II

In Pakistan, you are more likely to come across autobiographies of retired civil and military bureaucrats than from political activists and leaders. A majority of retired officers tend to spin their exploits during ‘the most difficult times in the country’s history’ into a tale of derring-do.

Since a counter-narrative is hardly available, students and teachers of history end up reading these books, some of which become best-sellers. ‘Shahab Nama’ is one such example. Abid Hassan Minto’s autobiography ‘Qissa Paun Sadi Ka’ (‘A Tale of 75 Years’, Book Corner Jhelum) offers a counter-narrative to the bureaucratic and official versions of history. Lawyers like Abid Minto were willing to take extraordinary risks in the face of multiple military dictatorships that Pakistan and its people have endured and suffered for decades from the 1950s to the 21st century.

In the book, the first thing that strikes the reader is the narration of the pre-partition days in Rawalpindi. Minto spent his childhood in Arya Mohalla, which was a predominantly Hindu locality with only a couple of Muslim households and also a Christian and a Jewish family – all living in harmony and peace. An atmosphere of tolerance prevailed as everyone lived their lives per the precepts of their preferred creed or denomination. Ideology or religion had not yet pitted them against each other. Within families, there were communists, Congress or Muslim League supporters, and of course other smaller outfits such as the Khaksars that Allama Mashriqi was leading.

And there were those who changed their loyalties from Congress, the Communist Party of India (CPI) or the Unionist Party to the Muslim League. It is interesting to note that, while most religious and right-wing groups and parties opposed the demand for Pakistan, the CPI in all its wisdom supported this demand as if it was a ‘movement for self-determination’ – to use communist jargon as Lenin and Stalin had propounded both inside and out of the Soviet Union. Perhaps the CPI reckoned that it would be easier and quicker to launch a communist revolution in Pakistan than it was in a united India.

Apart from political dimensions, Minto’s autobiography is also full of domestic and social observations. As a child, he observed his mother working from dawn to dusk, catering to the needs of a joint family that housed dozens of inmates. Cleaning, cooking, serving food at least three times a day with numerous snakes in-between, taking care of children and washing the dishes; all this took a heavy toll on his mother and Minto since then remained opposed to the joint family system and expressed his dislike for this, despite acknowledging some benefits too.

He laments that in the 1940s, the secular features of the freedom struggle diminished; religion took precedence, and its dominance continued in the new state of Pakistan where the new rulers kept using the Two-Nation Theory to instil an ever-increasing nationalism and religiosity among the masses. In Punjab, the Unionist Party was a fairly secular entity that ruled the province with a cabinet representing all major religions. But a call for direct action by the Muslim League changed the entire dynamics of Punjab’s politics almost overnight in favour of the demand for Pakistan.

Minto informs us that hatred on the basis of religion was an entirely new phenomenon in Punjab which had Hindus, Muslims, and Sikhs, with some Christians and Jews too. After partition, Minto joined the Communist Party and the Progressive Writers Association; thanks to his debating skills, by 1954 he was elected president of the Law College Students Union. He recalls how the Islami Jamiat Talaba prepared posters showing him cutting the tree of Pakistan. That shows how from the early days of Pakistan a tendency to paint political opponents as traitors was taking root.

But still, there was a robust culture of debates and discussions which in later decades receded into oblivion and as the state itself started using violence against political activists and leaders, the fabric of society started fraying. Minto paints an interesting picture of his maternal granduncle Saifuddin Kitchlew who was a Congress leader and member of its central committee. A couple of years after independence, Kitchlew quit Congress and became an active member of the World Peace Council (WPC). In 1952 he received the Stalin Peace Prize (later named after Lenin) and donated the entire prize money to the WPC.

Kitchlew remained a leftist throughout his life but also had friends from a varied political spectrum. He worked hard for world peace and earned admiration and respect from across borders and continents. Minto moved to Lahore in 1958 and started his practice there. He made a sincere decision not to take up any case purely based on fees. He committed not to plead any case against labourers and workers and stood by his decisions through thick and thin.

Another interesting episode he recalls is about his attempt to visit India to attend a PWA conference in 1956. The PWA in Pakistan had already come under proscription and declared a political party. When he reached the Lahore Railway Station to catch the train to India, an officer glanced at a register and confiscated his passport. Minto filed a case in the court and received his passport back, but that act shows how the state was trying its best not to allow any exchange of ideas and even lawyers and writers were unable to travel even if they had valid travel documents. Those who complain about the highhandedness of officials now should think again.

They would do better by realizing that it is an old story of oppression and restrictions going back to the early years of Pakistan. Left-wing, progressive, and secular activists and leaders have especially been on the receiving side of repression all along. So no wonder right-wing and regressive theory and practice prevails in the country. The same civil and military bureaucracy that now expresses astonishment at increasing extremism and intolerance has been responsible for stifling moderate, progressive, and tolerant voices. And Minto’s books give us ample evidence of this trend.

When Minto’s son graduated from Cambridge University, at the convocation an interesting episode unfolded. Each student was supposed to kneel before the vice-chancellor while receiving the degree. One student did not kneel and kept standing upright; the VC thought for a while and awarded the degree to that student anyway. That student is now a senior judge. Before winding up this column, I would like to quote another interesting incident that Minto went through, and which is highly instructive. In 1982, he bought a new car that soon disappeared from his porch.

Soon he received a message from the inspector general that the police had identified his car in the tribal areas and the thieves were demanding 35, 000 rupees to return the vehicle. Minto had to go with the money but despite police mediation, they refused to return the car on the plea that a news item had appeared in the papers. If a person of Minto’s stature had to go through this, what law enforcement there is for ordinary citizens? ‘Qissa Paun Sadi Ka’ has detailed chapters on the Lawyers’ Movement and some interesting insights into significant cases that he was involved in.

The chapters on socialism and leftist politics in Pakistan are also highly informative. Book Corner Jhelum has maintained its high quality of production with a beautiful title and some memorable photos.

Concluded

The writer holds a PhD from the University of Birmingham, UK. He tweets/posts @NaazirMahmood and can be reached at: mnazir1964@yahoo.co.uk