Brigadier Ishtiaq Ali Khan called Brigadier Muhammad Ashraf on May 5, and asked him if he had received the letter? Brig. Ashraf told him that he had—back in March. Brig. Ishtiaq was upset, as he seems to be in early May every year. CORO or the Central Officers Record Office branch of the army is diligent about sending birthday letters to retired officers. Yet again, Brig. Ishtiaq was reminded of the events in Lahore, forty years ago, which had led to demotions for him, Brig. Ashraf (my father) and Brig. Niaz Ahmed from brigadiers to lieutenant colonels, and lowered pensions commensurate with the diminished rank. The technical term the army used was ‘retirement due to fault’. It’s the lieutenant colonel part that gets Brig. Ishtiaq every year.
In late April 1977, Brig. Ashraf, who was commanding 2AK brigade in Rawalakot, Azad Kashmir, received orders by a signal message from GHQ, to move to Lahore without relief, which meant he was to leave immediately without waiting for his replacement. The morning after receiving the message, he left 2AK brigade. He was to take command of 103 brigade posted in Lahore’s most troubled area. The city was in turmoil and martial law had been imposed by Prime Minister Zulfikar Ali Bhutto to quell protests that had broken out against the government in response to what people believed were rigged elections.
As his jeep drove down from the lush hills of Azad Kashmir, the brigadier saw a jeep crossing the bridge over River Jhelum, at Azad Patan, ascending the valley from the opposite direction. His replacement, Brig. Said Muhammad, was on his way up. They stopped at the side of the narrow road and met.
“You are lucky that you are going to command 2AK brigade,” Brig. Ashraf said.
“Well, you are not so lucky, Sir,” Brig. Said replied. “The situation in Lahore is chaotic.”
Later, Brig. Ashraf would learn that Brig. Said had been moved from Lahore because he had developed differences with the corps commander, General Muhammad Iqbal, over the General’s style of micromanaging everything.
Brig. Ashraf spent the night with his family in Mangla. Next morning he caught a train to Lahore from Dina.
In Lahore
Brig. Muhammad Saleem, a close friend, was at the Lahore railway station to receive Brig. Ashraf. On their way to his new headquarters, Brig. Ashraf told Brig. Saleem that 2AK brigade was a great command, and that he had enjoyed his time there.
The 103 brigade was posted in the troubled parts of Lahore in 1977
“You forget about 2AK now; in Lahore there is only one commander and that is the corps commander, and we, as brigade commanders, are like the adjutants of a unit,” Brig. Saleem told him in response.
Brigadiers Niaz and Ishtiaq were already posted in Lahore, in less disturbed locations; Brig. Ishtiaq was commanding an infantry brigade in the cantonment area, and Brig Niaz was the artillery commander with his headquarters also in the cantonment area. Brig. Ashraf took his command on May 2, and days later the three brigadiers met for lunch at Brig. Ishtiaq’s headquarters, at Gaddafi Stadium.
“So, what should we do if the situation gets worse, and the command still doesn’t listen to us?” said Brig. Ishtiaq.
“In that case we should not hesitate to resign,” came Brig. Ashraf’s unequivocal reply.
“When should that be then?” said Brig. Ishtiaq.
“If there is more firing and more people are killed, that should be the time,” one of the brigadiers replied. Firing had been taking place in the area that was now under Brig. Ashraf’s command.
“Then, we should resign together,” remarked Brig. Ishtiaq.
While this was an informal meeting of close friends, and no decisions were taken, they were clearly concerned about the deteriorating situation in Lahore, and the high command ignoring their advice.
In the evenings, along with other brigade commanders, the three brigadiers would attend the conference with the division commander, General Agha Zulfikar Ali, and would vocally express their reservations about how the army was being used; they believed it was not only counter-productive but could also be dangerous.
On the evening of Monday, May 9, Brig. Ashraf, having received orders from the higher command, held a meeting with his battalion commanders, and briefed them on operations for
the next day. After passing on his orders, he told the officers that he may not be with them in the morning, but they should go on and do their duty as best as they can. A protest rally was to be held on May 10 at the Neela Gumbad mosque at one end of Anarkali Bazaar, in the area directly under Brig. Ashraf’s command. The corps commander had ordered Brig. Ashraf to personally supervise the troops at the Neela Gumbad site, and sort out the crowd in case of any disturbance. He had used this phrase previously, and Brig. Ashraf had spoken to him about it.
“Sir, sorting out means that my soldiers have rifles, they are not holding batons, which means the troops will open fire on the crowd.”
“But yes, they have to be sorted out,” came the reply.
At the other end of Anarkali, Brig. Niaz was posted with similar orders, that he would also personally supervise his troops, on site.
“For me it was clear that the command was bent on making the situation worse,” recalled Brig. Ashraf in a recent conversation with me.
Two of Brig. Niaz’s artillery units were also under Brig. Ashraf’s command, which meant he and Brig. Niaz met regularly at Brig Ashraf’s headquarters. After the meeting with his battalion commanders, Brig. Ashraf told Brig. Niaz that he had decided to resign. “The division commander will be coming here shortly, and I will inform him.”
“If you go, I will go too,” Brig. Niaz said.
Brig. Ashraf urged Brig. Niaz not to resign, “The troops are under my command, I bear responsibility, and you are not required to do this,” he had said.
“Ashraf, if you go, I am not Raj Wali’s son if I don’t go also.” Brig Niaz was not about to let his friend leave by himself.
“I did my best to persuade Niaz not to resign; he was an outstanding officer and a great human being. Both of them were,” said Brig. Ashraf as he recalled the events of four decades ago.
The division commander was shocked to hear about his decision: “Ashraf, don’t do this! We all feel the same way, but it’s a question of our service.”
“Sir, you do as you please. I have made my decision. I will write a letter and you can give that to the corps commander.”
Later the same night, Brig. Ashraf was called to the corps headquarters, where the corps commander also urged him to reconsider his decision, and subsequently met Brig. Niaz as well. Both brigadiers declined to take back their decisions.
The next day, on May 10, Brig. Ashraf received a message to report to the division headquarters to meet General Ziaul Haq, who had been sent from Rawalpindi on the Prime Minister’s official aircraft. Details of that meeting have been recorded previously (including in my translation— The Three Brigadiers, September 29, 2011—for this newspaper, of Brig. Ashraf’s interview with Rafiq Dogar, originally published, in 1994, in the Urdu paper Deed-Shuneed.)
Brig. Ashraf and Brig. Niaz were ordered to report to GHQ in Rawalpindi.
By now Brig. Ishtiaq had heard of the resignations. He called Brig. Ashraf at GHQ: “Yaar, you guys didn’t even tell me that you have resigned. Well, don’t worry I am coming.” Within days he joined his friends at GHQ.
The news of the resignations spread like wildfire, and the desired effect was achieved. There was no more firing anywhere in Pakistan. Three senior officers handing in their resignations made the government see the gravity of the situation. Negotiations were started with the opposition, which led to an agreement between both sides to hold new elections; a date for the polls had also been picked. But before the agreement could be implemented, Gen. Ziaul Haq staged a coup, and, on July 5, imposed martial law on the country, with fateful consequences for the future of the nation.
The protest at Neela Gumbad, on May 10, 1977, went by peacefully and the rifles stayed silent.
After the army
Life in the private sector was not easy for the three brigadiers, but eventually, Brigs. Niaz and Ashraf found success in business after trying several ventures. Brig Ishtiaq held several high-level jobs, but remained under financial hardship after finishing his career in the civil sector. He felt the sting of the lowered pension the most. Forty years later his blood still boils when he receives the birthday letter from Coro. The wages of having taken a principled stand and done something right do not always agree with honest, brave people.
Brig Niaz passed away in August 2014, in Islamabad, and Brig Ishtiaq still lives in Lahore. My father lives in Rawalpindi. In 1992, he established Raj Bukhsh Trust, an organization for the education and welfare of the poor. The trust set up two higher secondary schools near his village, catering to the underprivileged. Nearly fifteen hundred students are enrolled in these schools, and their graduates are now in medical colleges, are teachers, and are young captains in the army. Brig Ashraf considers Raj Bukhsh Trust his life’s best achievement, and at eighty-five, is still actively involved in his schools.
