Remembering those who have passed on

Minal and Maha with Dr Sarwar (Zakia in background), Jan 2009

On special occasions like Eid or Navratri, we especially remember those who have passed on. Here is a note from Sehba in Houston relating a conversation with her daughter Minal who turns five years old on Sept 21 (happy birthday Minal, and thanks for your words of wisdom and love):

Right now, we’re in the car doing errands. Minal had a busy morning playing with one of my friend’s kids. Suddenly, she says: “Every one dies no matter what.”

Reně and I nod.

She adds: “I miss Nana. Sometimes I stay up at night and cry for him.”

“You do?” I ask.

“I wish I’d talked to him before he died.”

This just came out of the blue. We hadn’t talked about Babba for sometime. But maybe she was thinking about him because we skyped with Beena this morning.

Doc 101: Intro to Life and How to Live It – Sehba Sarwar

Doc 101: Intro to Life and How to Live It

Dr. Mohammad Sarwar 1930-2009

1.  Friendship: Find
partners, friends.
Create relationships.
Share passion-politics
not geography age
religion. Once connected, stay
close.

2. History: Explore
beneath it, around it
over it, and read between lines.
Once you think you
understand, ask questions.
Don’t stop
questioning.

3. Work: Reach out
to your neighborhood,
your street,
your city of the past
present future.
And organize with the world
around you.

4. Life: Live
especially when reminded
of your journey as a speck
in the arc of time.
Eat drink (smoke)
breathe. Keep
speaking out.

—Sehba Sarwar,
31 July 2009

A Missed Wake-up Call on Education 50 years Ago – S.M. Naseem, Jan 2004

Note: This article was originally published in daily ‘Dawn’, Jan 2004

The vigorous student movement of almost five decades ago, with its epicentre in Karachi, in the first decade of Pakistan’s independence has received little attention in the writing of Pakistan’s history. The movement climaxed by the firing and police violence on the peaceful students of Karachi on 7, 8 and 9 January, 1953 – events which radicalised the political and economic discourse in the country and had far-reaching, if not easily discernible, effects on the shape of things that followed in the next 50 years. The purpose of writing this article is not merely to commemorate  the fiftieth anniversary of those events, with which the author was also associated in a humble capacity in his student years, but also to examine the characteristics of the student movement that gave rise to it, as well as to provide a perspective on later economic and political events and its relevance to the current debates raging in the country, especially on education and human development.

To refresh the memory of those who were not yet born or were too young to have witnessed the events first hand or through contemporaneous news reports and may have learnt about them only through casual references to them in occasional reports on that fateful day, it is useful to give a brief account of the events that unfolded and led to a major confrontation between the students and the authorities of that time. Recall that the event occurred just six years after the independence and in the politically unstable environment after the death of Pakistan’s founder and the assassination of its first Prime Minister, which occurred in quick succession. The Government’s reins were in the hands of a bunch of self-righteous bureaucrats, who though not as corrupt and self-serving as their current ilk, did not have the vision of an enlightened elite, but were deeply steeped in the colonial mode inherited from their British masters. For them, as for their successors today, the main aim of the Government was the maintenance of law and order, rather than social and economic progress.

Soon after Karachi was declared the country’s Federal capital, it became host to an unending mass of people both from across the Indian border as well as from the less developed regions in Pakistan in search of newly created opportunities for jobs and investment, An unedifying aspect of the phenomenal growth of Karachi was the forced exodus of Hindus and Sikhs from Karachi and other urban centres which created a vacuum far larger than the absolute numbers of those who left. Land and house grabbing gave rise to large slums in the midst of posh localities.  The population of Karachi increased almost five-folds from 3 lacks in 1947 to 1.5 million in 1953. As a result, public services were becoming increasingly inadequate to the needs of the population. In particular, the educational infrastructure was in a shambles.

On the other hand, the demand for education and educational facilities was rising. Karachi’s new urban middle class, drawn from all parts of the subcontinent, relied on education as its main human resource and instrument for advancement in life. The frustration among the youth about their inability to get adequate education and access to proper educational facilities was growing. The Government was too busy in the power struggle among the various factions vying to hold their grip on the state apparatus and in coping with the internal political intrigues, to have much time for the growing social and economic needs of the people. Despite continuing criticism in the national press on the educational policies (or lack thereof), the Government continued its indifference and insouciance to education.

At the time of partition, Karachi’s colleges were affiliated with the Bombay University.  After the partition they were taken over by the newly-created Sindh University and in 1950 by the University of Karachi. Professor A.B.A. Haleem, formerly Pro-Vice-Chancellor of Aligarh Muslim University served as the first Vice-Chancellor, partly in consideration of his services to the Muslim League. But he did not give up his political ambitions and aspirations on becoming a full-time educationist. Indeed, much of his time was devoted to building his political profile through his office-bearer ship in a number of cultural and quasi-political organisations. The Vice-Chancellor also cultivated a group of loyal supporters among students and teachers who were favoured with scholarships and trips abroad. This Godfather role earned him the title “ABA Haleem” among the students.

As a result of the Vice-Chancellor’s extracurricular activities, the plans for the development of higher education in Karachi suffered and stagnated. Many of the colleges affiliated to his University were not recognised by professional bodies. In particular, the Dow Medical College degree was recognised in 1951, after considerable efforts by the students and staff. That fact also explains why Dow Medical College students became so active in the student movement of Karachi.

It was in this social and economic ferment that the students realized the need for an organised effort to press for their demands. Students from different colleges of Karachi met together to form the Democratic Students Federation whose principal focus was to expand and improve the facilities for education and opportunities for employment after education. Among the demands made by DSF were the reduction in tuition fees, increase in the number of scholarships to poor students, the construction of new hostels and the improvement in the living conditions of the existing hostels, especially Mitharam Hostel and the Jinnah Courts. (Ironically, the latter two hostels have now been renovated and handed over to the Rangers; so much for the priority the Government attaches to education!). There were a number of specific demands, such as the provision of textbooks, the holding of supplementary examinations, the stoppage of “mass failures” as a means to reduce the pressure on the job market, recognition of degrees, concession in cinema tickets, provision of better sports and recreational facilities, as well as provision of more science and technical colleges and better amenities for teachers.

The DSF recognised the importance of College Unions and successfully contested elections in most Colleges. Its victory in Dow Medical College, DJ College, SM College and Islamia College, proved its representative character. The only other student organisation, the Islami Jamiat-e-Tulaba (IJT),affiliated to the Jamaat-i-Islami, fared poorly in most colleges. To carry on the struggle more effectively, the DSF decided to form an Inter-Collegiate Body (ICB) consisting of the principal office-bearers of college unions in Karachi. In addition, it decided to bring out a fortnightly journal, the Students’Herald, which started publication in November 1952 and ceased publication in July 1953 after being banned as part of the repressive measures adopted by the Government in the wake of US-Pakistan Military Alliance.

After pressing the University authorities for a dialogue on the students’ demands which led no where, the ICB decided to approach the Education Minister for talks with him, failing which it was decided to hold a protest day. The Education Minister, who had promised to meet the students towards the end of December, left for a Commonwealth meeting in London. In the meantime, the Vice-Chancellor met a phoney student delegation in order to pre-empt the meeting arranged between the ICB delegation and the Education Minister, who was told by the Vice-Chancellor that he had met the student delegation and there was no need for him to see them. This naturally infuriated the ICB leadership who decided to give a call for staging a “Demands Day” on 7 January 1953 and taking out a procession to the Education Minister’s House on Kutcherry Road. The students’ response was overwhelmingly positive and strikes were observed in almost educational institutions, including the schools. The students, estimated at about 5,000 in number assembled in the DJ Science College and listened to the speeches of their leaders, Mohammad Sarwar, President of the ICB and Mirza Kazim, Vice-President of the DJ College Union, among others. They appealed to the students to remain calm and disciplined during the procession and not to give the authorities any ground for provocation. The students were asked to disperse after the ICB delegation had met the Education Minister and presented their demands.

However, the police was bent on disrupting the procession from the start and wanted it to disperse much before reaching the Education Minister’s residence. The first lathi-charge by the police was made on Frere Road in which many students were injured, but it miserably failed to stop the procession. When the procession reached Elephantine Street, the police panicked and resorted to teargas bombing on Karachi’s fashionable street. The students had to run helter-skelter to seek shelter in shops and bungalows. They regrouped again and continued their march towards the Education Minister’s House. They were tear-gassed again near the Karachi Club, near the Minister’s House. In the meanwhile, the police arrested the leadership of students in the hope that the rest of the students will then disperse. But despite the lathi-charge a large number of students refused to budge and continued to shout slogans and demanded the release of their leaders, who were ultimately released and granted an interview with Education Minister. The Minister, in the presence of the V-C and Director of Education, agreed to most of the demands presented to him.

The events of 7 January shocked the entire nation and messages of sympathy and solidarity poured in from all sides. On 8^th January the students assembled again in DJ College to celebrate their victory. They decided to take out another procession through the streets of Karachi to protest against the police brutalities and to thank the general public for their support and solidarity. However, it seemed that the police was intent on taking its revenge for its inability to stop the student procession from reaching the Minister’ house the day before. They became even more provocative and intense in their brutalities. They trapped a small group of students who had strayed from the main procession, which had changed its route. The public tried to help the students and became engaged in pitched battle with the police. The police resorted to lathi-charge, tear-gas and ultimately police firing resulting in loss of precious lives, including a ten-year-old boy shot near Paradise Cinema and an old man, a bystander.

On the 9^th of January, the public outraged by the police brutalities of the last two days, decided to observe a hartal . However, the hartal was disrupted by the police with the help of goondas and agent provocateurs who resorted to looting liquor and arms and ammunition shops. A Mercedes car of the Interior Minister was also burnt down by miscreants. The students themselves remained peaceful, although a large posse of police force was posted at Pakistan Chowk to prevent the students of DJ College and Dow Medical College from taking out a procession. The whole episode ended with the intervention of Prime Miinister Khwaja Nazimuddin who assured the students of a much fairer deal in the future. Unfortunately, he did not stay much longer in office to fulfil his promise.

The student  protests of 1953 were blamed by their detractors as the work of the communists. While many of the students were no doubt inspired and influence by the socialist ideology, none of the active participants were politically disposed. Many of the leading figures and active participants distinguished themselves in the professions they chose for themselves. To name a few Dr Adibul Hasan Rizvi, Dr Rahman Hashmi, who passed away recently, Dr M. Haroon, Dr Ayub Mirza and Dr M. Sarwar, distinguished themselves in the medical profession. Others became prominent journalists (Salim Asmi), diplomats (Abul Fazl) and members of the bar and bench (Haziqul Khairi) and education (Prof. Jamal Naqvi). They were drawn from wide strata of society and with different ethnic and social backgrounds. Moreover, the student movement of 1953 was widely supported by civil society, including the political parties and private businessmen who contributed liberally to its activities.

The events of 7, 8 and 9 January 1953 reverberated throughout the country and was taken notice of both by the national and international press. They also helped to create national unity among the students and soon after these events an all-Pakistan student organisation (APSO) was born with wide participation from all parts of the country, in particular East Pakistan. It raised the level of consciousness about education and social issues in the country and the leading role that students can play in the transformation of the country.  One can legitimately characterise the events a wake-up call to the nation for paying greater attention to education, the students and the educators. Unfortunately, that call was missed by succeeding generations and has been partly responsible for the social and educational morass the country finds itself in.

‘Hasan Nasir’s case should be re-opened’ Shafqat Tanvir Mirza, Dawn, July 30, 2009

Article in Lahore edition of Dawn today by Shafqat Tanvir Mirza

Remembrances – by Hilda Saeed, July 27, 2009

Hilda Saeed works in the area of population and development, reproductive health and gender. She is a long-time women’s rights activist, among the founder members of Women Action Forum (WAF), and was among the 1000 global nominees for the “1000 Nobel Peacewomen Award” 2005

It’s taken me a long time, just to sit and write these thoughts… Memories can be difficult things to deal with at times, nor are tears enough to express the grief you feel.

As we sat together at the PMA hall in Karachi on May 31 this year, remembering Sarwar, and friends recalled their particular memories, I felt Sarwar is still with us, large as life. So many recollections…. incidents, shared laughter, political discussions, recalling the years of student activism, happy times together.

I entered this group of friends, doctors, political and human rights activists, poets and artists after meeting Mazhar Saeed in the early ‘60s,  much later than their time of student activism: by that time,  we were all already involved in our different careers: I hadn’t been with them in my student days.

Coming from the cloistered surroundings of a women’s college into the stimulating activity of the DJ (Science College), and its student union, was an elating experience, even though, as I learnt subsequently, college student unions in those days, in 1957-1958, were on their last legs.

That was when we learnt of the earlier activism of the DSF (Democratic Student’s Federation), their media link with the public, the “Students Herald”, a fortnightly magazine published by the DSF and edited by S.M. Naseem, which noticeably impacted the student movement, and in that brief period, also gained international repute. We learnt of the struggles of this student group with the politicians of that time, the formation of the Inter Collegiate Body, and the involvement of Sarwar, Adib Rizvi, Haroon Ahmed, Zain Alavi and his brother Hamza Alavi, Mazhar Saeed, Salieem Asmi, S.M. Naseem  and other student activists.

Those were wonderful learning years, when we gained so much awareness about rights, democracy, the fast changing political scenario – yet, paradoxically, as we entered university in 1958, and Ayub Khan became the first military dictator, they were also the years when we realized how much our rights as students and as human beings were being eroded.

Mazhar Saeed, Dr Sarwar, Dr Badar, Karachi 2008

Later  after Mazhar and I were married in 1962, Sarwar and Zakia (she’ll always be Zakko to me) became close friends. For a long time, we were neighbours, with our children growing up together….I’d often walk across at tea time, with my own special mug of tea, for a chat…. He loved some of my cooking, especially the rice and chops. Many were the impromptu evenings when we’d get together with friends at each other’s homes (Come on over, Zakko or I would say, I’ve made paya, or khichri, or besan ki roti, or whatever)… In the 70s, and early 80s, Sibte Bhai, Suroor Bhai (scholar, writer Sibte Hassan, poet Suroor Barabankvi), with Anis and Haroon, Dr Badar and Shaheena Siddiqi, Mazhar, and so many more were often part of this lively, enriching group of friends. Sarwar, in his own quiet way, contributed so much, to such a variety of issues.

He was, for me, also the sympathetic doctor who saw us worried young mothers, and our children, through childhood illnesses, laughed and joked to make us feel better — I really valued his diagnostic skills.

But he was for me, above all, friend and confidante, someone to turn to. I can never forget the time when Mazhar was seriously ill. Sarwar sat up, virtually all night, and only retired when he was repeatedly assured that his patient and friend was fine.

A rare trip abroad: Mazhar and Sarwar, Paris 1978

How much he valued his friends—and how often he recalled their memorable trip together to London and Paris in 1978 —Haroon, Sarwar and Mazhar, one of the few times Sarwar ever traveled abroad (on a subsequent trip that the friends had planned he actually returned home along with his packed suitcase before even reaching the airport, already nostalgic for his own bed and armchair).

Sleep well, my friend…I can’t help recalling these words from a Christina Rossetti poem “Better by far that you should forget and smile, rather than remember and be sad”.

Yes, Sarwar, we’ll try to smile, and look forward, and continue the struggle for rights in our own separate ways. Maybe someday our future generations will succeed in making Pakistan what we want it to be — a world where religion doesn’t hold sway in this bigoted fashion, as it does now, a country that is secular, that values each human life, where each individual has human rights, equality, healthcare and education, and a chance to grow to her or his full human potential……yes, we’ll smile, but we cannot forget you, or the joy and learning and wonderful friendship that you brought to so many of us

Karachi, July 27, 2009

‘Ah, Dr Sarwar’ – Badalti Dunya editorial (Urdu)

"Ah, Dr Mohammad Sarwar' - monthly 'Badalti Duniya' editorial, June 2009

‘This wonderful Doc’ (2) – by Beena Sarwar

Published in ‘The News on Sunday’, Pakistan, July 5 2009. An abridged version, first published in HardNews. The title is borrowed from Ali Jafari’s tribute posted earlier at this blog.

Newly weds at Karachi beach circa 1960s – Zakia & Sarwar. Photo by Dr Haroon Ahmed

by Beena Sarwar

She is not the grave-visiting sort. A white-haired dynamo with luminous eyes, she pioneered teacher training and teaching English in Pakistan (as a second language in large classrooms with limited resources). The activism inculcated in her native Pratapgarh in UP, India, remained with her after the migration to Pakistan in the late 1950s, later nurtured and encouraged by the life partner she found.

Zakia met Sarwar after moving from Lahore to Karachi in 1961. The unconventional, long-limbed Allahabad-born doctor was known as the ‘hero of the January movement’. Visiting Karachi for a holiday after Partition he had stayed on after being admitted to Dow Medical College. There, he started Pakistan’s first student union in 1949 (corrected from 1951), catalysing the first nationwide inter-collegiate students’ body. When the government ignored the students’ demands (including lower fees, better lab and hostel facilities and a full-fledged university campus) the students held a ‘Demands Day’ procession on January 7, 1953. Police brutally baton-charged and tear-gassed them, and arrested their leaders. They were set free hours later under pressure from students staging a sit-down in front of the education minister’s house, refusing to budge until their release.

Sarwar addressing a students’ meeting, Karachi early 1950s

The momentum continued with another procession on Jan 8. This time, they were confronted by armed police. Trying to negotiate with the police to let them pass Sarwar realised that their threat of opening fire was deadly earnest, he tried to stop the students from going forward. Charged up, many surged ahead anyway. The police opened fire. Seven students and a child were killed on that ‘Black Day’. Over 150, including Sarwar, were injured.

The college principal Col. Malik visited the family to get them to persuade Sarwar to give up his activism. The support of Akhtar, his even taller older brother, a well known journalist, gave him the courage to resist. Both were jailed during the crackdown on progressive forces coinciding with America’s McCarthy years, after Pakistan and America signed a military pact (Sarwar received his final MBBS results in 1954 while in prison for a year).

The January Movement’s impact can be gauged by the Khawaja Nazimuddin government’s eventual acceptance of most of the students’ demands. The students were even asked to approve the blueprints of Karachi University (based on Mexico University). In the 1954 provincial elections it was a student leader defeated the seasoned politician Noor-ul-Amin in former East Pakistan.

After graduating from medical college, Sarwar declined invitations from various politicians to join their parties. “I didn’t have the means,” he said simply. He was the sole breadwinner of the family after Akhtar’s sudden death due to pneumonia in 1958 at the peak of his career – he was chief reporter of the newly launched eveninger The Leader. Their circle of progressive writers, poets, activists and journalists was devastated. The well known poet Ibne Insha compiled a book of essays on Akhtar (including by Faiz Ahmed Faiz, Hameed Akhtar and others) and his letters from prison. Sarwar, who had been particularly close to Akhtar, insisted that everyone get on with their work and not sit around mourning.

Zakia’s older brother Zawwar Hasan had been one of Akhtar’s closest friends. They had played field hockey for rival college teams in Allahabad, re-connecting as sports journalists in Karachi. After moving to Karachi, Zakia, who began teaching at Sir Syed Girls College there, would take Zawwar’s young children to Sarwar’s clinic nearby for checkups. The romance included outings like seeing off the Faiz sahib when he left for Moscow to receive the Lenin Peace Prize in 1962.

“As a comrade, his relationship with Abba was an unspoken clear bond based on a shared understanding of the universal struggle for a just human order,” says Salima Hashmi, Faiz’s daughter and an old friend of Zakia’s from her Lahore days.

Sarwar and Zakia got married in September 1962, overcoming parental apprehensions about religious differences (Shi’a, Sunni). Neither was religious. Akhtar would have approved, as Zawwar did.

As their eldest child, one of my earliest memories is Zakia and other college teachers on hunger strike, demanding an end to the exploitation of teachers. Sarwar supported her against the muttered disapproval (‘women from good families out on the streets’), as always, giving her the space to develop her potential. No wonder that he has a special place in the hearts of her colleagues at Spelt, the Society of English Language Teachers that she founded, which celebrates its 25th anniversary this year.

Sarwar practiced as a general physician for nearly fifty years from his modest clinic in a low-income area, consciously charging low fees and treating struggling workers, journalists, artists and writers for free. He was contemptuous of doctors who charged high fees, prescribing costly tests and medicines where less expensive ones would do. He helped launch the Pakistan Medical Association and its affiliated Medical Gazette – both of which have been vital platforms for progressive politics in Pakistan, particularly during the Zia years.

Diagnosed with cancer in August 2007 (‘stage four’, pancreas, metastasis to the lungs), he took it in stride. “Look,” he reasoned in his remained characteristically calm and good humoured way, “everyone has to die. If this is how I have to go, so be it.”

He refused to give up drinking or smoking, reminding us of friends who died early despite giving up such habits. When a cousin’s mother-in-law was diagnosed with lung cancer, he asked wryly, “And does she also smoke?”

“To look into the eyes of  a killer disease, and yet not roll over is something that the bravest could envy,” wrote Zawwar last October from the Bay Area.

Sarwar defied doctors’ predictions of ‘maybe six months…’, humouring us by trying the nasty herbal concoctions we inflicted on him, and later stoically withstanding six months of chemotherapy at SIUT, the pioneering philanthropic institution set up by his old friend Dr Adibul Hasan Rizvi. Perhaps this bought him some more time. Perhaps it was simply the sheer willpower of a fighting spirit refusing to give up hope even while realistically facing the worst.
Friends flocked to ‘Doc’, as many affectionately called him, hosting parties at his home when he was too weak to go out.

Emerging from anaesthesia after a blocked bile duct was cleared this April, one of his first questions was about the Indian elections. He’d ask for the daily newspapers – even when weakness made difficult to concentrate – and that cigarette which one of us would light. He’d chat hospitably with visitors, cigarette dangling habitually between the fingers of one hand even as a drip punctured the veins of the other arm.

At home later, it was only during the last two days of his life, his breathing dangerously obstructed, that he did not smoke. Doctors suggested suctioning out excess fluid in intensive care – entailing drips (no space for more needle pricks in either arm by now) and the risk of life support if the procedure failed. When I explained this to him, he waved his hand and pronounced, ‘No point, no point’. They sent over technicians with an inhaler and suction pipe, which gave him some relief. But then the rattling in his throat recurred.

Late that night, when he seemed to be more comfortable and settled, I finally said goodnight, kissing him on the forehead. “Sleep well Babba.”

“Goodnight,” he replied, clasping my hand back. “Go to sleep.”

He died quietly in his sleep about half an hour later.

Zakia now takes time out from her work to sit by his last resting place. It gives her peace.

‘Dr Sarwar and the 1950s student movement’ – 2004 posting

I just found this on my group email list posted Feb 26, 2004 reproduced below.

http://groups.yahoo.com/group/beena-issues/message/434

‘Dr Sarwar and the 1950s student movement’

A good background to the fledgling 1950s student movement in Pakistan and how it was crushed. On Black Day – Jan 8, 1953 – police opened fire on a peaceful student demonstration in Saddar, Karachi. Seven students were killed and several more were arrested, including my father, Dr Mohammad Sarwar. Personal circumstances including the death of his elder brother, the journalist Mohammad Akhtar, led to his giving up the activism, but I still come across people who still remember his dynamic leadership. Personally, he’s my most exacting critic, best analytical source, and most reliable babysitter for my daughter.
beena

—–
Daily Times, Pakistan, Jan 8, 2004

Students for whom the bell tolls

By Shahid Husain

KARACHI: January 8, 1953 is a milestone in the students’ movement of Pakistan when peaceful students of the then capital city of Karachi were fired upon by police. Seven people were killed and 59 were injured. But the student movement led by Democratic Students Federation (DSF) succeeded in getting most of their demands accepted including the establishment of the University of Karachi at its new campus. The movement influenced the people across the country and its echo was also heard in the relatively more politically conscious elements in the then East Bengal.

Unlike today when students are divided on the basis of ethnicity and sectarianism, the January 1953 Movement encompassed all democratic students and its main demands were reduction in tuition fees, opportunities of scholarships to relatively poor students, improving the condition of hostels and establishment of Karachi University at a new campus to ensure that more students acquire higher education, according to Dr. Mohammad Sarwar, who was the president of DSF, the leading force behind the movement.

In an exclusive interview with Daily Times here at his residence, he recalled that a group of some 25-30 students convened a meeting at Karachi’s Dow Medical College (now university) in early 1950s and later assembled in a small hotel in Arambagh and decided to form a students’ organization, which was named as Democratic Students Federation. Mohammad Sarwar was made the convener of the newly formed organization. Amongst those who made the historic decision to form a democratic and secular students’ organization included some of the very bright students, many of them making a niche in their professional life in later years. These included Dr. Khawaja Moin Ahmed, Dr. Syed Haroon Ahmed, Dr. Adeeb-ul-Hasan Rizvi, Dr. Ghalib, Dr. Mohammad Yousuf, Dr. Safdar Ali, Dr. Ayub Mirza and Dr. Rahman Ali Hashmi.

“We then contacted fellow students in other colleges and started membership in DJ Science College, S. M. College, Urdu Law College, S M Law College, Islamia College, Government Women’s College and other educational institutions and got a very good response,” he said.

The students’ movement was brewing in Karachi in the backdrop of growing population of the city as a result of influx of refuges from India amid poor infrastructure and inadequate facilities in the domain of health, transport and education.

“In 1947, the Karachi became the capital of the new state of Pakistan. Bureaucrats, government employees, semi-government institutions all moved to the city and new organizations were established to meet the needs of the new state. In addition, over 600,000 refugees from India also moved into the city increasing its population by more than 161 percent in a period of 10 years. The refugees occupied all open spaces and the city center, the military cantonment and public buildings. This migration changed Karachi completely,” according to noted town planner and architect Arif Hasan. It was the growing problems of the capital city, which paved the way for a glorious students’ movement.

In 1951 a convention was held at Theosophical Hall and the manifesto of DSF was drafted and demands put forward for the betterment of the student community. It is absolutely wrong to say that the Communist Party of Pakistan had anything to do with the formation of DSF, Dr. Sarwar said. However, there were progressive students in the fold of the newly formed organization, he added. DSF also launched a fortnightly journal Students Herald, which started its publication in 1951 and was edited by S. M. Naseem, he said. He went on to say that the standard of Students Herald could be gauged from the fact that it bagged the best fortnightly award in Poland from the International Union of Students. The government in July 1954 banned Students Herald in the wake of growing relationship with the United States.

Referring to the popularity of DSF, he said it emerged victorious in the elections in almost all the important colleges of Karachi in 1952. Then it opted to form an Inter Collegiate Body (ICB) that along with DSF played a vital role in students’ politics.

After failing to pursue the university authorities to listen to their grievances, the ICB and DSF tried to meet the education minister Fazlur Rahman but that was thwarted by the right-wing vice chancellor of the university A.B.A. Haleem who established a bogus students group and conveyed to the education minister that he had already met the aggrieved students and there was no need for the minister meets them. This made the students angry who gave a call for a “Demands Day” on January 7.

Dr. Sarwar recalled that a big meeting was held at DJ Science College from where the students decided to go to the residence of the education minister Fazlur Rahman at Kutherey Road in the form of a procession but the authorities imposed Section 144 and made it clear that procession would not be allowed. The students, however, were firm to take out a procession and they did succeed. However, when the procession reached Frere Road from police resorted to lathi charge (baton charge). But the students were undaunted by this cowardly act. And continued their procession. They were tear-gassed when the procession reached Elphistone Street (Now Zaibun Nisa Street) and again near the Karachi Club. The police also arrested many student leaders who were ultimately released amid pressure from the agitating students.

On January 8 the students again gathered at DJ Science College and decided to take out a procession against the highhandedness of the police. As if the brutalities of the previous day were not enough, police resorted to firing near Paradise Cinema and a number of students were killed, including a minor. On January 9 Karachiites observed a strike against police brutalities. In fact, the government imposed curfew for a few days, Dr. Sarwar said. But the impact of January Movement was such that the government of Khawaja Nazimuddin had to accept most of the demands of the students.

“We toured the Punjab, NWFP and East Pakistan culminating in the formation of All Pakistan Students Organisation (APSO) on December 25, 1953. The popularity of the new organization was such that one of its student leader defeated seasoned politician Nurul Amin in the elections,” he said.

In May 1954, the government in the wake of growing tilt towards the US banned DSF, APSO and the Communist Party of Pakistan. Many student leaders including Dr. Sarwar Dr Ghalib, Jamauluddin Naqvi, Ayub Mirza, and Students Herald editor, Syed Mohammad Naseem were arrested and sent to jail.

“The January students movement was the first major movement that focused on democratic issues, especially those concerning students and youth. Its impact on the people of Karachi indeed on the people of Pakistan was electrifying and soon the students of other cities and provinces joined the movement. The then Prime Minister Khawaja Nazimuddin accepted all the major demands of the students after about a week. What I remember is that tuition fee was decreased, in some cases by 50 percent and in other cases even more than that,” said Prof. Jamaluddin Naqvi, one of the of leaders of January 1953 Movement

(ends)

Column by Farooq Sulehria in weekly ‘Mazdoor Jud-o-Jehed’, Jun 18-24, 2009

Weekly JudoJehad cover

Farooq Sulehria article-1

Farooq Sulehria article-2

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‘This wonderful Doc’ – Ali Jafari

Sarwar & Zakia, late 1970s

Ali Jafari is a management consultant and professor of management sciences and long-time friend of the Sarwar family. He is the son of satirical poet Syed Mohammed Jafari

ISLAMABAD, June 6: I have sat down three or four times to write about the Doc and each time I have stared at the screen and gotten up without writing a word. There are so many memories of him since he was no ordinary man that one could just write a few perfunctory cliches of condolences and get done with it. Let me share with you what I wrote to my siblings and to the whole Jafarigroup (an extended family based yahoogroup). This group includes all of my paternal and a few maternal cousins, my siblings and my nephews and nieces. I have received many phone calls from my cousins who knew Doc and those who didn’t know him wanted to find out more. A few even complained as to why I didn’t ever take them to your open house of the 70s to 90s as I knew it. Well here is what I wrote to them:

“Dear all,

Many of you may not have heard the name of Dr. Sarwar. The first time I had heard this name as Muhammad Sarwar, I was a student of grade 5. He was the pioneer student leader who led the first student protest in Karachi in the early 50s to protest against stagnant, outdated and unfair education policies of the Government of Pakistan. We got an early break from our school in Saddar Karachi one particular day when some college and university students came and asked the headmaster to shut down the school. We were quite oblivious to what the hoopla was all about and only learnt later of the clash between the students and the police.

Doc Sarwar was a student at Dow Medical College at that time and was leading the movement. He was also one of the founders of the Democratic Students Federation (DSF), a left leaning liberal students body that stood for progressiveness, modernism and a fair egalitarian society. He was quite a fearless man and remained extremely calm in the face of danger and challenges. The protest that he had initiated led to killing of a few students due to inept handling of the situation by the nincompoop minister of education Habib-ur-Rehman (whom my late father dubbed as the Nikhattoo of the beehive of education in one of his poems – Nikhatto is the male bee that does no work and after it has mated with the queen bee, it is dispensed with quickly). The callousness of the Karachi Police ended in firing on the protesting students. Doc Sarwar remained undeterred and led the movement.

His apparent laid back demeanor and soft spoken speech could never betray that he was a man of intense resolve. The good thing about him was that he was never dogmatic nor he practiced any violent behavior if one disagreed with him. He just remained steadfast in what he believed.

Doc and his wife (and Zakia apa to us), are well known among my siblings – “us” meaning a group of my friends and I. Their house was open to everyone on most of the evenings during the 70s to the end of 90s, where poets, artists, intellectuals and young self styled “revolutionaries” like us would gather and discuss everything under the sun. If the house was not open then we opened it ourselves with the smiling Sarwars always welcoming us. Abba also joined us on a few occasions as he was much loved by Doctor Sarwar and Zakia Apa alike for his wit, humor and fearless criticism of the establishment. Similarly, Abba was also very fond of both Doc and Zakia Apa. My friend Asghar Abbas, a cousin of Zakia Apa, had introduced me to this wonderful couple.

I had already heard of Doc and his stature among the progressives and when I first went to their house, I saw the Doc in person – a tall and wheatish complexioned handsome man who shook hands with me warmly and when he learnt that I was Syed Muhammad Jafari’s son he expressed his warmth and acceptance by seating me near him. I was tongue tied and didn’t know what to say. Soon he put me at ease through his relaxed mannerism which was so natural and so devoid of being affected that I said to myself: how could this very amiable man be the leader of a left wing student movement that is preserved in the annals of early history of Karachi. That was the deceptive part of this man of firm beliefs and high ethical standards. Of course, he was much disillusioned and disappointed by the betrayal of the progressives in Pakistan but I never heard him whine or complain incessantly to sound fashionable nor was he an apologist.

Doc and Zakia Apa’s house was like a club for quite a few like minded young persons, who like me, had returned home after having studied and worked in the UK or the US. We’d meet and hold discussions, argue and plan passionately to bring about social change. Zakia Apa also participated in these discussions, and she also pampered us with her superb culinary arts by preparing some exquisite dishes and fed us the young cavernous ever hungry lot. Doc listened to us with patience and an understanding smile on his face. He would interject once in a while but never impose his ideas. When we asked he would give his incisive analysis.

There were musical evenings at the Sarwars and the best performed there. There was a theatre group with budding artists such as Khalid Ahmad, Sheema Kermani (now a celebrated dancer), Zeenut Anis, Zakia Apa herself and a few others who met at the Sarwars. Once or twice I assumed the role of the Urdu supervisor for the diction, pronunciation and accent of the characters for a play written by Khalid Ahmad. As youth is quite cruel, we just took it for granted that we shall be fed and looked after by the Doc (as we addressed him) and Zakia Apa. Why we had this divine right? I fail to answer. It was all their fault, why did they pamper us. At times we even took our friends along and they were welcomed just as warmly. Doc would engage us in discussions without sounding antagonistic or patronizing and he always had a subtle and at times a rueful smile on his face when we talked of revolution and that too by 3 pm in the afternoon on that particular day.

What I always envied was that he was never overawed by anyone nor did he try to impress or pose in front of anyone. He didn’t have to, recognition and affection for him came naturally to him through his loving and friendly nature and people were attracted to him rather than being impressed or overawed by him. That is the sign of a great human being and a leader who doesn’t command respect due to his station or official position. Such a leader exudes a charisma due to his personal qualities. His leadership style was that of nurture through subtlety and love.

This wonderful Doc passed away last week at the age of 80. He was suffering from Cancer for the past couple of years or perhaps more. When I went to see him about a year and half ago, I expected to meet an emaciated bitter old man. Quite to the contrary, he was his old self. He knew what he was suffering from and was willing to give it a fight – like he had always done for all the issues and causes that he had believed in and with the same smile, composure and grit. When I tried to express my anxiety at his illness, he in a very matter of fact manner said to me: “look, everyone has to go and if I am destined to go this way, so shall I but not without giving a good run for its money to cancer.” He was as usual neither bitter nor did he complain as to why he had been afflicted by this terminal disease nor did he once talk of any discomfort, pains and aches.

He was a great stoic. He was just as interested in discussing all the latest in politics, sports, books, poetry or whatever you wanted to engage him in. Since his being diagnosed with the disease, the first time I came back after meeting him, I said to myself, surely the doctors have not diagnosed him properly. He is not behaving like a cancer patient. He had the same old calmness and zest for life about him. Yes, the disease took its toll and he didn’t always come down to meet people but I was one of the privileged ones who were invited to sit with him in his bedroom and chat about this that and the other.

Why do people like him so much, I would ask myself? Now that he is no longer with us, I have the answer: because he was interested in people and he demonstrated that by being a great listener. Even when he disagreed, he at least validated the feelings of the speaker and never insulted him/her. This was a gift that he presented to everyone – young, old or his contemporary, he would listen with sympathy and attention. There are few who are so gifted to give the wonderful gift of listening to people – read, giving respect and love to them. There is a couplet of the great Farsi poet Hafiz who says “There isn’t any foundation (of human relationships) that is free of imperfections except the foundation that has been laid on love” and Doc established his relationships on the foundation of love for human beings as he was forgiving and understood the human weakness and failings.

He was paid rich tributes by the Pakistan Medical Council (that he was a president of about 15-20 years ago) which held a reference in his memory and many a intellectual paid glowing tributes to this quite revolutionary.”

Zakia Apa, I can write much more but emotionally it is very exhausting. If you wish to share my email with others then please go ahead and do that. It has a few repetitions but since it has all come out spontaneously, I have not bothered to edit or proof read it much. Yasmin has asked me to convey her heartfelt condolences.

Lots of love

Ali

JUNE 22: Thanks for sharing Doc’s pics. Brought back a lot of memories. I am reminded of a couplet by one of the greatest Farsi poets, Hafiz Shirazi. It is difficult to translate any poetry because of the specific nuances, semantics, innuendos and poetic conceits of a language. Translation becomes even more difficult when the poetry is endeavoring to convey emotions and feelings through a particular diction in addition to all other complexities.

I have created and attached a document with the original Farsi couplet and its literal translation in memory of Doc. The translation only conveys the basic concept but does not portray the beauty of Hafiz’s unique style and diction.

Goethe read Hafiz’s translation in German and he was so moved that it compelled him to compose his Book of the East and he lamented that he couldn’t read Hafiz in Farsi.