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Brian CloughleyMonday, December 23, 2013
From Print Edition
At the moment I’m writing an analysis of Pakistan’s nuclear developments for an international publication. It is a most interesting task, and I cover the involvement and dedication of such outstanding scientists as Abdus Salam and Munir Khan who contributed so greatly to Pakistan’s nuclear programme.
But exactly where did Abdus Salam and Munir Khan fit in? I knew what they had achieved overall, and especially Munir, whom I knew and greatly respected, but it is intriguing to reflect on what happened to the genius Abdus Salam whose Nobel prize for physics was awarded in 1979 when he lived in Britain. He is Pakistan’s only Nobel Laureate – but why wasn’t he in Pakistan when he conducted the research and wrote the joint paper that resulted in such international distinction? It’s a sad story.
In December 1971 Zulfikar Ali Bhutto became president of Pakistan, and the following January he held a secret assembly of scientists and engineers at which he ordered that they devote their energies to developing a nuclear weapon. Abdus Salam and Munir Khan were the most prominent of those involved, and they set to their duties with patriotic vigour. But the Bhutto government later took action that deeply disturbed the brilliant Abdus Salam. Because the country’s most distinguished scientist was unfortunate enough to be an Ahmadi.
In 1974 Bhutto, who had by then become prime minister, after a bit of constitutional reorganisation, arranged for his government to declare Ahmadis to be non-Muslims. This resulted in Pakistan’s most illustrious scientist quitting — forever — the country of his birth, to which he had contributed so much, the country he had served so loyally. (It must be said that Bhutto was a complete humbug in regard to religious observance. In 1977, for example, on the evening of the day he declared prohibition against alcohol, he and his director of protocol, an old friend of mine, demolished a bottle of Scotch together). So out of the window were tossed the ideals of the Quaid-e-Azam who set the example and guidelines for how Pakistan, as a proud and honourable country, should conduct itself.
In his first address to the assembly in 1947 the Quaid said to the citizens of his new country that: “You are free; you are free to go to your temples, you are free to go to your mosques or to any other place of worship in this state of Pakistan. You may belong to any religion or caste or creed – that has nothing to do with the business of the state.” What a wonderful declaration.
He went on to describe the evils of past centuries by referring to the appalling religious barbarity in England, where, he rightly said, conditions had been at one time “much worse than those prevailing [here] today. The Roman Catholics and the Protestants persecuted each other. Even now there are some states in existence where there are discriminations made and bars imposed against a particular class. Thank God, we are not starting in those days. We are starting in the days where there is no discrimination, no distinction between one community and another, no discrimination between one caste or creed and another. We are starting with this fundamental principle: that we are all citizens, and equal citizens, of one state.”
But now? What of now, when there are countless sectarian murders and mindless, barbaric torment in the name of religion? What would the Quaid have thought of September’s bombing of the Christian church in Peshawar that killed 85 people and caused so much suffering? It was carried out by an organisation called Jundullah, and it is irrelevant whether it is a formal section of the Taliban or part of the entourage of Mickey Mouse, because it is dedicated to the destruction of Pakistan. Its atrocities include last summer’s murder of foreign tourists at Nanga Parbat and the suicide bombing of the ISI office in Sukkur.
But there is some reason for optimism: there is a tiny twinkle of open-mindedness and reason in the evil blackness of fanatical bigotry and intolerance. Because recently it was reported that “Multan’s historical monument, the 165-year-old Saint Mary’s Cathedral, was renovated by the Pakistan Army in collaboration with the civil society of Multan.”
There are some domestic and international commentators who contend that the army is a hotbed of fundamentalism that supports Taliban insurrectionists. They ignore the fact that the army has suffered grievously from engagements with rabid fundamentalists and that 4,000 soldiers have been killed in Pakistan’s fight against terrorism since the war in Afghanistan began in 2001 (news of five more, just as I complete writing this).
But even they have to acknowledge that restoration of the cathedral in Multan, this important part of Pakistan’s heritage, irrespective of its religious connotations, is a most civilised act, entirely in accordance with the Quaid’s pronouncement, on which the very fabric of Pakistan depends, that there is “no discrimination between one caste or creed and another. We are starting with this fundamental principle : that we are all citizens, and equal citizens, of one state.”
It was the army’s corps commander in Multan, Lt-General Abid Parvez, who approved renovation of the building. He is to be congratulated – and his actions show that the army is sincere in backing democracy in making it clear that extremism has no place in modern Pakistan. And – who knows? – he might have provided an opportunity for a future Nobel Laureate, some little boy or girl, to be nurtured as an ‘equal citizen of one state’.
The writer is a South Asian affairs analyst. Website: Brian Cloughley
From Print Edition
But exactly where did Abdus Salam and Munir Khan fit in? I knew what they had achieved overall, and especially Munir, whom I knew and greatly respected, but it is intriguing to reflect on what happened to the genius Abdus Salam whose Nobel prize for physics was awarded in 1979 when he lived in Britain. He is Pakistan’s only Nobel Laureate – but why wasn’t he in Pakistan when he conducted the research and wrote the joint paper that resulted in such international distinction? It’s a sad story.
In December 1971 Zulfikar Ali Bhutto became president of Pakistan, and the following January he held a secret assembly of scientists and engineers at which he ordered that they devote their energies to developing a nuclear weapon. Abdus Salam and Munir Khan were the most prominent of those involved, and they set to their duties with patriotic vigour. But the Bhutto government later took action that deeply disturbed the brilliant Abdus Salam. Because the country’s most distinguished scientist was unfortunate enough to be an Ahmadi.
In 1974 Bhutto, who had by then become prime minister, after a bit of constitutional reorganisation, arranged for his government to declare Ahmadis to be non-Muslims. This resulted in Pakistan’s most illustrious scientist quitting — forever — the country of his birth, to which he had contributed so much, the country he had served so loyally. (It must be said that Bhutto was a complete humbug in regard to religious observance. In 1977, for example, on the evening of the day he declared prohibition against alcohol, he and his director of protocol, an old friend of mine, demolished a bottle of Scotch together). So out of the window were tossed the ideals of the Quaid-e-Azam who set the example and guidelines for how Pakistan, as a proud and honourable country, should conduct itself.
In his first address to the assembly in 1947 the Quaid said to the citizens of his new country that: “You are free; you are free to go to your temples, you are free to go to your mosques or to any other place of worship in this state of Pakistan. You may belong to any religion or caste or creed – that has nothing to do with the business of the state.” What a wonderful declaration.
He went on to describe the evils of past centuries by referring to the appalling religious barbarity in England, where, he rightly said, conditions had been at one time “much worse than those prevailing [here] today. The Roman Catholics and the Protestants persecuted each other. Even now there are some states in existence where there are discriminations made and bars imposed against a particular class. Thank God, we are not starting in those days. We are starting in the days where there is no discrimination, no distinction between one community and another, no discrimination between one caste or creed and another. We are starting with this fundamental principle: that we are all citizens, and equal citizens, of one state.”
But now? What of now, when there are countless sectarian murders and mindless, barbaric torment in the name of religion? What would the Quaid have thought of September’s bombing of the Christian church in Peshawar that killed 85 people and caused so much suffering? It was carried out by an organisation called Jundullah, and it is irrelevant whether it is a formal section of the Taliban or part of the entourage of Mickey Mouse, because it is dedicated to the destruction of Pakistan. Its atrocities include last summer’s murder of foreign tourists at Nanga Parbat and the suicide bombing of the ISI office in Sukkur.
But there is some reason for optimism: there is a tiny twinkle of open-mindedness and reason in the evil blackness of fanatical bigotry and intolerance. Because recently it was reported that “Multan’s historical monument, the 165-year-old Saint Mary’s Cathedral, was renovated by the Pakistan Army in collaboration with the civil society of Multan.”
There are some domestic and international commentators who contend that the army is a hotbed of fundamentalism that supports Taliban insurrectionists. They ignore the fact that the army has suffered grievously from engagements with rabid fundamentalists and that 4,000 soldiers have been killed in Pakistan’s fight against terrorism since the war in Afghanistan began in 2001 (news of five more, just as I complete writing this).
But even they have to acknowledge that restoration of the cathedral in Multan, this important part of Pakistan’s heritage, irrespective of its religious connotations, is a most civilised act, entirely in accordance with the Quaid’s pronouncement, on which the very fabric of Pakistan depends, that there is “no discrimination between one caste or creed and another. We are starting with this fundamental principle : that we are all citizens, and equal citizens, of one state.”
It was the army’s corps commander in Multan, Lt-General Abid Parvez, who approved renovation of the building. He is to be congratulated – and his actions show that the army is sincere in backing democracy in making it clear that extremism has no place in modern Pakistan. And – who knows? – he might have provided an opportunity for a future Nobel Laureate, some little boy or girl, to be nurtured as an ‘equal citizen of one state’.
The writer is a South Asian affairs analyst. Website: Brian Cloughley
