Pindi conspiracy

EXCERPTS: The glow that illumined
Around 1951 some military officers, led by General Akbar Khan, conspired to overthrow the government. This was called the Rawalpindi Conspiracy. These people were dissatisfied with the government’s position on Kashmir. They felt that had the government not been influenced by the British Commander-in-Chief, General Gracey and his group, Pakistan would have captured Srinagar. General Gracey had recently retired and had been replaced by General Ayub Khan. General Akbar and his coterie believed General Ayub was a British agent, and that the people of Pakistan were tired of the selfish policies of the Muslim League and had become so restless that they would welcome the downfall of the government.

One day Sardar Shaukat Ali, who was the secretary of the provincial [Communist] party, came to see me and said that some military officers from Sialkot wished to discuss certain political matters with Sajjad Zaheer. Bannae Bhai was away in Karachi those days and so I replied that since Sajjad Zaheer was currently not in Lahore, I would convey the message to him on his return. The gentleman came again after two or three days, and communicated a similar message from some military officers in Rawalpindi. A week or 10 days later, when Bannae Bhai returned from Karachi I gave him both the messages. I don’t know whether or not Bannae Bhai met the military men, but about two weeks later he called a meeting of the Central Committee of the [Communist] Party, without however disclosing the agenda of the meeting. All he told me was to prepare my report (I was in charge of the broadcasting and publication as well as the literary front of the party.)

Organising a meeting of the Central Committee was a task beset with difficulties, because almost half of the committee’s members were underground, and the other half worked openly for it. The CID kept a strict watch on those who worked in the open, and so, for them to meet their concealed comrades was full of hazard. However the meeting took place, and during the course of it Bannae Bhai for the first time apprised us of the generals’ plan. We gathered from what he told us that he had already met General and Begum Akbar Khan. The plan remained under discussion for two days, but with the exception of two or three comrades none were in favour of it. Our opposition was prompted by principles, ideals and pragmatism, and the plan was severely criticised on the authority of Marx, Lenin, and Engels’ works.

Our stand was that a social revolution cannot be brought about through a conspiracy hatched by a handful of army men. That it can only be launched with the active collaboration of a preponderance of peasants, labourers, and progressive members of the middle classes. Besides, the leadership of such a revolution is invested in the revolutionary party. What did we know about the political predilections of these army men? We had no idea of how much sympathy they had for Socialism or Communism. Those of our comrades who were stricken with extremist Communist views repeatedly brought up the example of armed struggle in Malaya, Telengana, and Burma. Perhaps subconsciously they believed that if something similar sparked off here, it would of its own develop into a social revolution.

After two days of continuous discussions it was finally decided that the army men would be asked for more details — their objectives, the kind of social system they wished to establish in the country, whether they had the support of some civilian elements, and how they proposed to put their plan into practice. The responsibility of finding out these details was given to Sajjad Zaheer.

Two or three weeks later there was another session of the Central Committee, at which Bannae Bhai put before us the details he had obtained from the army officers. We learned from them that their “plan” had been no more than empty words. The conspirators had no idea of how they would shape the politics and society of Pakistan, how the democratic rights of the people would be promoted, what would be the form of the government, and above all they had no clue of what to expect from the Communist Party. This time it did not take us long to reach a decision. It was settled that we would reject the overtures of the army men and also talk them out of going ahead with their childish adventure. It was also decided that I would accompany Sajjad Zaheer to Rawalpindi, where we would inform the army officers of the party’s decision.

Two or three days later we arrived in Rawalpindi, but when there was a delay in the assembling of the army officers, I sought Bannae Bhai’s permission to leave on a tour of various places, it being election time. Subsequently I returned to Lahore. Two or three days later Bunnae Bhai too came back to Lahore and informed us that he had persuaded the army men to give up their scheme of bringing about a military coup. With the episode thus behind us, we became occupied with the preparations for the election.

What transpired however, was that first General Ayub Khan, and then Liaquat Ali Khan got wind of the last meeting, and the government resolved to reap advantage from the episode in the coming provincial elections. Therefore, about a week before the elections General Akbar Khan, Begum Akbar Khan, and Faiz Ahmed Faiz were arrested, and an official announcement was made to the effect that the government had crushed a deep military conspiracy.

Subsequently, other army officers were arrested, and we became certain that the government was about to make an all out attack on the [Communist] party as well.

News of the conspiracy shook the whole country, and it became difficult for us to work for the elections. Everywhere there was fear and panic, and everybody was dreading to hear the knock on his door. Not only members of the party but also writers and newspapermen with links to the movement for Progressive literature were arrested.

I was arrested on April 21, and Hasan Abidi who was Bannae Bhai’s secretary and lived with him, was arrested the second or third day after that. Mohammad Afzal, Dada Firozuddin Mansoor, Hasan Nasir, Mirza Ibrahim, in short there was hardly a member of the party who escaped arrest. I was imprisoned in the Lahore Fort when I heard that Hasan Abidi had been brought to the same place.

Hasan Abidi was then no more than about 23 years of age. He was a slim, taciturn and modest young man, but possessed a strong character and was capable of putting up with the greatest hardships with a smile. His cell was just above mine and therefore I was well aware of all that he went through. He used to be beaten all night but never uttered a word of complaint. The police wanted him to tell them Sajjad Zaheer’s whereabouts.

After they had beaten him day and night for a week, an experienced CID Inspector used another ploy. An overtly soft spoken and cultured man, he had spent many years staking out the activities of Communists. He was familiar with the rules and practices of underground movements, and knew how Communists lived and worked in concealment. He called Abidi to his room and treated him with great courtesy. Then he said, “You are well acquainted with the rules of operating under concealment, why then do you suffer the hardships inflicted on you? Since you used to live with Sajjad Zaheer and did not return there, he must have realised that you have been arrested. In such a situation, as both you and I know, the usual communist practice is to move to another location.”

The Inspector was a hundred per cent right. Hasan Abidi was convinced that given his eight days’ absence, Bannae Bhai must have moved to another hideout, and so he divulged Sajjad Zaheer’s address.

The police officer later recounted to me that he had gone to the address given to him by Abidi merely as a formality, as he was quite sure that Sajjad Zaheer would have moved. He thought that at best he would be able to seize some useful documents.

He was therefore astonished when Sajjad Zaheer himself opened the door when he knocked, and said with a smile, “Please come in. I have been waiting for you.” He then accompanied the policemen without the slightest hesitation.

In 1955 when Bannae Bhai arrived in Lahore after his release from Mach Jail, and was staying with his old friend Nawabzada Imtiaz Ali Khan, my first question on meeting him was “Why did you remain at that address for eight days? Why didn’t you move?”

He replied with a laugh, “The very next day after Abidi disappeared I was certain that the poor man had been arrested. But I thought that the situation was so delicate that moving in with a friend or sympathiser would be tantamount to exposing him to danger. So I decided to stay on where I was rather than put others at risk.”

[After his release from Mach Jail] Bannae Bhai told me that he had written two books in prison. One was an account of the movement for Progressive literature, and the other was a work on Hafiz. He said about the former, “I have called it Roshnai.”

I replied with a laugh, “What kind of name is Roshnai [Ink]?”

“Pen, Ink, Inkpot!” He said, “You are utterly ignorant! Hafiz has used the word Roshnai in the sense of knowledge, awareness, light.”

(Translated by Amina Azfar)

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