In August 1950, there was a week’s vacation. I happened to be in Calcutta. In an English newspaper I saw an advertisement that Pakistan Public Service Commission was holding a competitive examination for recruiting candidates for thirteen top federal services, Foreign Service included. The eligibility conditions provided top 20% seats for Commonwealth citizens. After examining, I considered myself eligible to take the examination, being a Commonwealth citizen. I informed my uncle and mentor Kamaluddin about it. Within two days he took me to Dacca (now known as Dhaka), half-an-hour journey by air.
While filling the form I wanted to opt for only Foreign Service and no other. My mentor insisted that I should enter more options. To satisfy him, without changing my mind, I entered the alternatives, Civil Service of Pakistan (CSP) being thirteenth – for me the last alternative. In January I came to Dacca again to take the written examination. My three optional papers were International Law, International Affairs, and French Language. Without meaning anything I also applied for lecturer’s post at Dacca University. Yet another trip I had to take for an interview and psychological test. Having done all this I went back, took LLB examination and started enjoying summer vacation.
First came a letter of my appointment as temporary Lecturer Political Science at Dacca University. Within a month or two came the radio announcement of the result of the Competitive Examination. I had obtained the sixth position and was allocated to the Civil Service of Pakistan. It was the saddest day of my life. I considered myself thoroughly unfit for Executive Service, not good enough for Foreign Service also, but it was escapism that left for me no choice.
There were two India Civil Service (ICS) Officers from Banaras (now Varanasi) who were Muslim. I knew their families but nothing more. I met them later as colleagues in Pakistan. There was a brilliant student in my neighborhood, five years elder to me who was preparing for the ICS. Right or wrong my impression of an ICS or its counterpart CSP was that in order to succeed the officer must have the qualities of:
- Snobbery, presenting yourself, as the Americans call it, ‘special’, different and higher than everybody else except the superior
- Making aggressive self-projection a part of the habit
- Showing an unpredictable temper, the mark of a ruler, never appearing to be a servant of the people
- Naturally preferring short-term gains even at the cost of graver future losses
- After coming to know that I have been allocated to Punjab for executive service I added another quality of being “Martial”. It took me whole of my service time to understand only a part of its meaning, not fully, even now today
In our batch of 1951, there were:
Two officers from East Pakistan, Shamshur Rahman elevated to the position of ‘Dr. Johnson’ during student days, and impressive tall figure of Mofizur Rahman.
Three officers from West Pakistan, Aslam Bajwa (AB), an agriculturist by family, on teaching job immediately prior, Latif Anwar an engineer, son of a teacher most ambitious with an urge to excel and remain at top ultimately losing his mental balance. My companion as two leftovers in the batch, M. Mohsin (MM) small in height, most jovial, somewhat irresponsible in daily habits.
Three from United Provinces of India, ‘Urdu-speaking’ as they were called, among other names lower in grade I need not mention here. Mansoor Zaimur Rahman (MZR), son of Head of Arabic Department of Allahabad University with master’s degree in Arabic, Shafiur Rahman (SR) master’s degree in Political Science, bachelor’s degree in law, diploma in French and German languages, belonging to a business family, most hateful of business as a profession, considered to be well-off and well-looked after by the family (only a misconception!).
From the leftover, Karim Iqbal from Madras (KI), Ziauddin Khan from Central India (ZK), Mahmood Iqbal from Tank State (MI, or as ‘my roommate’), Arif Siddiqi from UP (AS), Ijlal Hussain from UP (IJ) and Ziauddin Temuri from Delhi (ZT)
Our Director at Civil Services Training Academy Lahore was a British ICS Officer, Mr. Burgess, having rendered service both on the Executive side as well as Judicial, in central India.
We were accommodated inside the training academy; an impressive building later came to be known as State Guest House of Pakistan. Its look and comfort added one feather more to our snobbery cap, whatever it was.
According to my assessment, preliminary, as well as final, three of us were totally unfit for executive service, possessing none of the six qualities making up the coveted group.
Our training schedule was very tight. Bed tea early morning, horse riding after sunrise in the Race Course ground, lectures from 8am to noon. After lunch, the typing class. In the afternoon, games. At night the dinner, everyone in attendance, mess night once a while when senior officers and others attended.
Nine months training in Lahore
Our friend LA was an engineer but extremely ambitious, visibly extrovert, used to say at least twice a month for nine months of our training that “CEO” (any named existing or imaginary authority) should have bargained East Pakistan for Kashmir. Our colleagues from East Pakistan remained unruffled, ignored it altogether
LA became my partner for a long time, as they say in computer language, ‘by default’. He was not accepted for his over-ambitiousness, I was not accepted because of my reticence and non-participative existence, having no visible ambition. This was my first lesson in life how two males with habits poles apart can live peacefully. This experience of mine got strength reading Pearl S. Buck’s book “Portrait of a Marriage”, how two persons of different sexes in everything poles apart can make a success of married life without denting any of their habits or responses.
In East Pakistan I found LA a different person, learning colloquial Bengali earliest, mixing with all tiers admirably. I kept a watch over his career path.
Years later I called at his office in the Secretariat. As I entered the room he said: “Shafi I know why you have come here”. I said, “Tell me!”. He said have you read today’s newspaper, have you seen the cartoon in it. I said I have. It is for ridiculing me. He said that only yesterday I went to purchase cigarette from the vendor and I had no money to purchase and he did not give me on loan saying that I already owe him much. In fact, the cartoon depicted it in the same manner. I left the room knowing full well that never in our lives he will ever reach that state of destitution. He would have if he had opted for the judiciary. I always gave the impression of being the most credulous.
Our other colleague IJ was interesting in many ways It was the practice of our Director to invite two of us to pass an evening with him and his wife. IJ and myself were invited. It was winter. I was immediately impressed by the warmth and the relaxing power of log fire. At times I feel the warmth of it even while thinking of it. The Director asked IJ which service was, according to him, the best. He took no time in replying that it was that of ASI (Assistant Sub Inspector of Police). The Director was surprised, so was I. On further question he said that there was ‘scope for making a lot of money’. IJ was under inquiry when we were all in London for training. The Establishment Secretary a very competent senior officer was there. He asked IJ to meet him. When he told IJ that he could immediately be sent to Pakistan to face the inquiry IJ said, “Sir I cannot go there for next 15 days”. On being asked why he said he had given his clothes to the laundry and those will not be back till after 15 days. Secretary responded, “Do you know you can be dismissed from service on this charge?”. IJ said if that is going to happen then he should be taken into Foreign Service.
In the UK we were at times asked what our position was and duties in the country. IJ took no time to reply that it was that of King. They got more confused whether it was that of a king with power or without any. IJ was a Deputy Commissioner when a minister, a General of many qualities, visited his district and was entertained well. The minister then received a letter from lower revenue staff complaining that they contributed to his dinner which was beyond their capacity. The Minister asked for an inquiry into the matter. IJ replied that he had spent every penny from his pocket and that his wife had kept the receipts of all purchases. The Minister said to his Secretary who had been my Commissioner, the wife would have thrown him out of the house if she was asked to maintain receipts also. Minister directed that in future no such dinner should be accepted.
The Director had only one complaint against me, and that persisted, that I sat with my shoulder blades hunched. I could not understand it at all. Forty years later, after retirement, my hemoglobin got alarmingly low. Then colonoscopy was done and it was found that I had Hiatus Hernia. A hernia, I knew well, but hiatus was beyond me. In plain words, I had a manufacturing defect. That obliged me to use no belt, never consume spicy food, never go to bed right after meals. I thanked God that the disclosure came so late. Barring a few nights of discomfort I had a good time eating, sleeping, and playing all the games of interest.
Field Training at Lahore
Training as a Magistrate: I was posted to Jhang for a few weeks to attend the court of Additional District Magistrate. He was a retired Army Captain. While hearing a case he wanted to convict a man for stealing a donkey and award six months R.I (rigorous imprisonment). I thought it was too much. When I told him so, he replied that donkeys are valuable in this area. It was a lesson well learned. Even after my retirement donkeys have not left surfacing in one form or other. Indeed a valuable animal increasing in value as the time passed.
I was taken by the Additional District Magistrate (ADM) for target shooting at the range. My first three shot went yards off from the target on one side. He said nothing. With a piece of cloth, he closed one of my eyes and allowed me to aim the target with one left open. Thereafter, never in the lifetime I missed a target, be it in the army training with heavier weapons or elsewhere. Another important and a more valuable lesson learned was that a timely graceful act of guidance is far more important and lasting than hours of lecture.
A fortnight training with the Army: Two of us, myself and MM, were assigned to 8th Lancers for training. I still remember the face of the Commander, a Brigadier, who took pride in treating us so tough that we will remember all over lives. My colleague MM was so daring a rider that during riding training he had crashed into another colleague both fracturing their collar bones. I liked riding but never to the extent of breaking bones. The training went very well. Our assessment was that the trainers did not match our intelligence. The trainers’ opinion appeared to be that we did not match their level by both of obedience and intelligence.
Land Record and Land Measurement Training: All in the suburbs of Lahore. First, the mess of Land Record had to be understood in all its detail. Then followed the land measurement with the chain being dragged all around. Next followed the calculation of the area in marla, kanal and murabba all merging into acres. What impressed me most was the patwari’s daily diary and the chowkidar’s register of daily events, a perfect orderly system of accurate data collection
Driving Training: For driving training, we were provided with a bus in such a dilapidated condition that it could walk with difficulty, was incapable of being involved in an accident. It was no pleasure to start and learn driving on such a vehicle. None enjoyed it. None learned much from it. I caused a few accidents on account of it.
After nine months of training, we left for our six-month training in East Pakistan.
Six months of training in East Pakistan
We arrived in Dacca and for a month remained attached to the Secretariat. Thereafter we were allocated to various districts, none of our choice. My eternal partner & I landed in Barisal (now Bakerganj), surrounded on all sides by the sea. Our District Magistrate (DM) was Mr. D. K. Power of 1941 batch. The criminal cases that we were trying presented no problem. No problem with the police because everyone had the option of going to the police or coming straight to the Magistrate, which in any case had to go to the police for an investigation like any other case registered with the police. In West Pakistan, everyone wanted registration of the case with the Police. A number of applications in the High Court for that end. I asked them why they do not follow the East Pakistan practice. Everyone said they wanted the named culprit to be disgraced in the locality through rough handling of the case by the police. Investigation through the Magistrate could never achieve that end.
Barisal had one peculiarity. It was the Headquarter of a flourishing Steamship Company. It employed European or Anglo-Indian staff. Their culture appeared, to me at least, more advanced than even that of the British or European, at times embarrassing to me. We were kept as temporary members of their club, full of activity and entertainment.
The DM had more than one steamboat for tours around. We accompanied him twice. Poverty everywhere. The ladies appeared more educated, more advanced culturally, more dedicated to the family and the relationships. Many decades later, Mohammad Yunus of the Grameen Bank had no difficulty in bringing eight or nine of them together for a common cause, shared financial commitment and development in selected priority areas. The effort was a tremendous success. Mohammad Yunus had one absolute rule, no government servant, serving or retired to be brought closer to his programs. After departmental examination in language and other subjects, we left for the United Kingdom for six months training there.
Six months of training in the UK
Our journey was on Anchor Lines ship “Celicia”. The first stop Aden in Yemen looked imposing and picturesque. Governor’s residence perched high on the hill overlooking the sea. In the background was said to be Shaddad Paradise, only a remnant of it. It was a beautiful collection of hills, not much of vegetation or water but traces of pristine glory still lurking, fully visible, if one added it in his imagination the essentials missing.
Our next stop happened to be Khartoum in Sudan (now North Sudan). For the first time, I saw the beauty of corals in a glass bottom boat all along the coast. It was impressive. I was told that Australia had the best and largest. Khartoum was more desert like. The tribesmen had vertical lines on their cheeks. I could not find out whether it was a mark of their tribal identity or an effort at their beautification. The hills there had a peculiar feature, some of the stones lying there had different phases of the moon clearly, and it appeared, permanently, embedded. I could not understand and none was there to enlighten us. Was it the quality of the stone or the miracle of the moon?
We traveled to Cairo, Egypt by road and passed the night in a hotel. Next day we saw the local market, looked like any old Middle East market seen in the films, a lot of haggling over the price taking place. We saw the Pyramids and Sphinx. In the desert, they appeared to be remnants of a very old civilization, abandoned and deserted. The wealth underground which still keeps on uncovering has a tremendous wealth of valuables, both material and cultural. It is history all around, underground, for us all to see, be amazed, understand and to study. The market there was like any other primitive seen in the films, long haggling over prices ranging from one extreme to another.
Long afterward one of our very senior colleagues told me of his own experience in Cairo. As long as he remained posted in central India in areas inhabited by Bheel tribe with his name was added Bhagwan (God). When he came over to serve in Pakistan with his name was added the word Hari (a tenant). He strongly advocated that all our prayers and dealings should be performed in the native language, to make sense to the concerned. He told that in Cairo he gave support to a coffin being taken to the graveyard. None came forward to replace him. He was exhausted by the time he reached the graveyard. He was told that the practice was to hire labor for taking the coffin to the graveyard. I recently got confirmation of this practice from an Egyptian Arab.
From Cairo, we went to Alexandria by the road where we caught our ship “Celicia”. Four more senior officers who had not done their training abroad were included in our group, the senior most becoming the leader. We lost our identity as a batch. It became a group of individuals, each drifting in direction of his own choice. Landing in UK in not our best form on account of rough sea we were confronted with smog, dull colored buildings of almost the same shape and size spread over miles and miles, nothing appeared to be capable of lifting our mood.
Lessons Learnt
The devotion and dedication of people: After a month or two of our arrival, more than a year after, the usual mourning period on the death of a king, the coronation of Elizabeth II took place. We were provided a corner to watch. What surprised me most was that a huge crowd had gathered and was sleeping all along the route for two days and night waiting to see the Queen in a carriage of no significance for us. I was amazed by their devotion, attachment with the royalty and their admiration for it. Since then I started watching the people in general, globally, how they develop such strong habits.
In Economist magazine of April 6th, 2017 page 82 there is an obituary of D. Rockefeller who died at the age of 101 years, belonging to one of the richest families, Chairman of Chase Manhattan Bank. It mentions “Wherever he went in the world – and in his 35 years at Chase Manhattan Bank from 1946 to 1981 he ran up 5 million air miles – David Rockefeller carried a small jar in his pocket, it was in case he found a beetle on the way. From the age of seven, partly from his own solitary careful catching, partly from expeditions he sponsored, he built up a collection of 90,000 specimens from 2000 species, carefully labeled and stored in airtight hardwood boxes at the 3,400 acres at the family place. His preference was “for wood borers leaf cutters and tunnellers, whose industrious activity changed the world in ways few people saw”.
Plants, Parks, and flowers: Not much time to spare I tried to visit all the parks and plants worth seeing. It was springtime. The gardens were at their best. I had no opportunity to visit a house garden. Crew garden was superb in a collection of plants, flowering as well as non-flowering. Chelsea gave the appearance of a flourishing market of fruits and flowers. Hyde Park was very different, unique, not to be found alike of it anywhere in the world, extensive lawns inside for the people to relax and enjoy, outside all round pseudo-politician making speeches on every imaginable subject with a few people gathered around them listening or not listening. I made two day trip to Amsterdam to see the International Tulip festival. It was an impressive commercial show. Tulips as far as the eyes could see, most of it exported to the world over. Years later I saw a comparable miniature sized project of cultivation of roses around Islamabad for export of roses. It was shot down as were projects of establishing Silicon Valley in Okaara, then in Abbottabad then elsewhere. I found around Delhi such a project of exporting roses flourishing adding beauty and color to the open spaces. In Bangladesh, I found most of the cultivation taking place on the roof of the buildings, as the hotels are doing now. Orchids of Bangladesh are now looking for the world market. My favorite flower always remained tuberose (“Polianthes tuberosa”), rajini gandha in Bengali, gul-e-mariam in Persian. I grew hundreds of tuberoses blooming at a time on my home’s rooftop in Islamabad.
Emphasis on O &M in offices: In offices and lectures we found too much of emphasis on Organization and Methods. It all meant arranging your work and office in such a manner as to reduce the time and maximize output. The technique, the procedures and the equipment required were all shown to us. We became wiser.
Collectively, we had occasion to meet in lectures and discussion groups people who were mostly undergraduates. They may well have been very well informed of their local problems but as far as larger national and international affairs they appeared to be quite ignorant. I kept on guessing how such a nation could rule so long and so well such a large part of the world. A closer look and deeper understanding revealed to me that the top core group had highly qualified, ethically tested, outstanding leadership qualities and the people were satisfied to see them lead and they did not worry about their top leadership.
Stay with Host Families
We had a program of two weeks stay with families. In the first stay I had as my companion the most senior of our group whom we treated as our leader. With him I had much to observe, little to share, and nothing to contribute. In the next stay with a family I had as my companion my batch mate MM. He was more participative, cooked pulao for the host. At that time so intolerant were the people there of spices that even a few black pepper corns could upset them. As the things have changed over time now there are said to be 7000 locations in London serving spice loving people. Herbs and spices have come to play a significant role in chemotherapy and alternative medicine not only there but world over.
Parting dinner at High Commission
It was a grand formal occasion with the High Commissioner and Chief of APWA present and freely mixing. The Chief of APWA advised those of us who were unmarried that we should marry only the ladies who are members or officer holders of APWA. An advice readily accepted by everyone but never followed.
Journey back
I had AB as my companion up to Rome where MM also met us. At the airport departure, I was handed over Bell and Howell 8mm Movie camera, more like a hand grenade. For its use inside the country, I had to pay VAT (Value Added Tax). So, this system of delivery at departure. Thereafter I enjoyed its use, now all on DVD.
Reaching Cologne in Germany we found it a devastated city. I understand it has been restored surpassing the beauty and grandeur of the earlier. From there we traveled by boat in Rhine River up to Zurich in Switzerland. On both sides of the river history of the area could be seen and felt. A long stretch of vegetation with Castle and palaces appearing on the scene at intervals.
Three things appeared striking. First, the multiplicity of languages spoken, understood and used. Second, the water jet going high and remaining functional every minute of the day. The third was a very colorful parade of all, imposing long-lasting extremely disciplined. I could not ascertain with certainty what the occasion was.
From Switzerland, we went to Paris. What a place it is, remarkable in so many ways. Seine river, neat and clean running through it. On the banks of it, cluster of art, culture, a specimen of civilization and much more. On the other side Notre Dame, Louvre and a long line of roadside restaurants. The Greek mythology god’s statue spread all over, rightly placed, imposing reminding of the flourishing Greek civilization. So many impressive buildings, Arc de Triumph, Eiffel tower etc. Paris got the credit of providing asylum and abode to so many intellectuals, politicians and others seeking refuge from earthly forces of evil. Versailles, a little distance from there, model of a capital, reminding of its glory and past.
From Paris, we went to Nice in south France whole tract known as Rivera, close to independent Monte Carlo. Not knowing swimming, not very fond of the lunar controlled sea, I could only enjoy the sight of the crowd, in swimming suits or alike of it. The wide beach and the hills hanging over it were a scenic beauty.
From Nice, we came over to Rome and after looking at some of the historic buildings I boarded the plane and arrived in Karachi. After a stopover, I arrived in Bombay. I had never been there. It was the month of July. The four days that I remained there it kept on raining and raining so no going out. Surprising for me, at least six people contacted me in the hotel to enquire whether I was Shafiqur Rahman, a writer of humor very much read by adolescents.
After meeting my family I reported and took over as Assistant Commissioner Lahore.
Experiences of a Lifetime 